Summer Time… and the Fishin’s Easy

By Spider Rybaak  

Father and son posing with a 23-inch walleye taken at Cleveland Docks on Sunday night.

A good ol’ algae bloom blossomed over Oneida Lake the last week of July. Common in the 1950s and 60s, the event spread an undulating carpet of thick green slime over much of the lake’s surface, triggering deep anxiety among worrywarts. When the ultimate die-off occurred in the first week of this month, turning the water a chalky color, and planting a stench riding its waves, the authorities closed popular beaches temporarily.  

Fatalists began gnashing their teeth and pulling the hair out of their heads; convinced global warming had finally reached the breaking point…Oneida Lake was Ground Zero…We were doomed.

But they were disappointed. You see, the bloom and gloom came and went and the water’s as clear and the fishing’s as good--some say even better--as before the event.

Last weekend was the first to be free of the condition, drawing the masses to Oswego County’s territorial waters of Oneida Lake.

Brewerton looked like a roving boat show. A steady stream of watercraft of every size and description ran the river in both directions. Every inch of the municipal dock was occupied and as soon as a space opened up, a vessel was maneuvering into the spot.

Some bank anglers jockeyed for casting positions on the dock. The bite was typical for this time of year; slow but productive, for those that kept pluggin’, anyway. However, even those who weren’t getting communications from the deep telegraphed to their rod tips were happily catching rays and enjoying the sights and sounds of the Oneida River slicing through the countryside.

Still, the majority avoided the congestion and simply fished at the access sites on both sides of the I-81 Bridge.  Most everyone reported catching something, mostly sheepshead, pickerel, bass and panfish.

In the background, guys fishing the river from boats were realizing decent results. Bucketmouths and pickerel were cooperative in the shallow bays on both sides of I-81; smallies and northerns were hitting on the river channel’s drop-offs. 

Most believe walleyes don’t hit in August, reasoning the lake is full of food and the pike suspend, feeding on minnows that are constantly swimming by.

The rest of us keep our mouths shut and jig for them in relatively deep water like the channel below I-81 and Cleveland Docks. Walleyes are naturally drawn to current, and both spots have it. You have to fish early and late, when boat traffic is at its slowest.

Then there’s Caughdenoy. The Oswego side is wide open, offering great access above and below the dam. The plunge pool always has sheepshead, catfish, smallmouth bass and panfish, and walleyes move in at night. The quiet water on top has monster cats, sheepshead, northern pike, bucketmouths and smallies, and panfish.

Summer’s winding down and the fishing is only going to get better from here on in. But if you wait, you’ll blow the last vestiges of long, lazy days fanned by pleasant breezes. You might not see catfish jumping but you should be able to catch a few.

The lake's water was chalky in the beginning of August.

Caughdenoy on Sunday afternoon.

Crappie Fishing Getting Good

Crappie: early season delight

Last winter’s unusual severity--long stretches of bitter cold weather without any thaws to speak of--along with heavier than normal snowfall -- has set the early season bite back a bit. Fortunately, the beginning of the month saw things warm up enough to lure folks to their favorite panfish spots; and early indications are that the bite’s gonna be a good one.

Last week saw Toad Harbor load up with minnows and panfish. Guys fishing with mousies and spikes nailed a lot of sunnies and shiners. Those working flathead or bucktail minnows did pretty well on the crappies.

Still, the crappie fishing was spotty. Schools would swarm in, bite for an hour or so and then turn off. A few hours later, they’d come back, folks would catch a few and then the critters would shut down again.

One local crappie expert surmised: “The water’s a tad too cold for them yet. Sometime next week they’ll come round in good numbers.”

Curiously, there seemed to be a larger than normal population of intellectually challenged anglers on the banks that day. They were easy to identify because of their habit of throwing the shiners into the bushes. One guy I watched throw four to their deaths finally complained: “I hate these worthless things.”

That’s when I let him have it. “Well buddy, what do you expect?” I asked. “You come to their house, throw dinner at them and get mad when they hit. If you don’t like catching shiners don’t use the baits they feed on.”

“There’s too many of ‘em; by killing them I’m helping to control their numbers” he shot back.

“Let the fish do that,” I replied.

A dumbfounded expression crept over his face.

Figuring he was probably a pretty decent guy deep down who just wasn’t savvy to the mysterious workings of nature, I decided to let him in on it: “Shiners are forage. All kinds of fish depend on them for food, including crappies, perch, sunnies. If you go killing them before they can spawn, you’re reducing their numbers all right. And then what do you expect the bigger fish to do?” I asked, rhetorically; then answered myself. “they’re gonna feed on more sunnies, perch and crappies, which means there’ll be less for you and me. You see?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded. “But they’re still a pain in the ….”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen days where they were all I caught. Without them, I’da been skunked,” I argued.

He smiled in agreement (told ya he was a nice guy).

Fate seemed to smile, too, because after that all I saw him catch were sunnies…and that made him very happy.

Toad Harbor should be productive from now all the way through mid-May. Crappies will be the main event for the next couple of weeks, followed by bullheads and sunfish, and pickerel when pike season opens.

If you don’t mind a little current, the floodgates at Caughedenoy can be productive. Perch mill around the structures and can be pretty cooperative if you’re there at the right time. What’s more they’re bigger than in years past.

They hang out in the slow areas and edges of the current, and respond best to a jighead tipped with a minnow and fished below a bobber so the offering moves around, an inch or two off bottom.

Feedback: Meg, a reader form Liverpool, NY, sent an email reporting that she and her 11-year-old son caught 11 perch in Phoenix over the weekend, five in the first 20 minutes.

Mexico native John Whitney and a perch he took at Caughedenoy.

Wayne Wright holding part of his family's dinner he took at Toad Harbor.

Way to happiness: Toad Harbor, a bucket and a crappie.