Hit the North Shore’s Bars for a Grand Slam

By
Spider Rybaak

Dennis, Pittston, Pa, a guest of Anglers' Bay,
holding an  "eye" he took between Cleveland and Vienna Bars

Early last week, I was trolling along NY 49 for some juicy quotes and photos for my next book, “Fishing Oneida Lake” (Burford Books, Ithaca, NY, scheduled for release in autumn, 2014). A group of guys standing around in the parking lot of David C. Webb Memorial Park at Taft Bay caught my eye. They looked too burly, hairy and ugly to be trying out for the Olympic figure skating team. So I figured they must be ice fishermen.

I approached them slowly. When you look like me, you walk gently so’s not to scare anyone.

“How were they hittin’, fellas,” I asked.

All but the hairiest remained silent. 

“I got my limit of walleyes,” he answered “but came up a little short of a Grand Slam.”

“Say what?” 

“I was trying to hit an Oneida Lake Grand Slam,” he answered, looking at me askance, like I was really dumb. “You know, a limit of walleyes and a limit of perch,” he continued, with great patience and understanding.

“Of course I know what you mean,” I protested.

I mentioned what I was doing and Craig Storms immediately volunteered to take me ice-fishing, to show me “How to pick up walleyes and perch on the North Shore’s bars.”

Surprisingly, all the other guys started opening up, too. True to the tradition of camaraderie Oneida Lake ice-fishermen are known for, they all pitched in with stories of their day. Everyone agreed to having a ball, even though the day was the coldest so far this winter.

An aspiring guide, Craig volunteered to take me fishing to show me how it’s done. We agreed to meet 6:30 a.m., on January 8, at Apps Bait, tucked into the northeastern corner of the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s Cleveland Docks Public Fishing Access Site. 

We ended up heading out at Anglers Bay, just west of Vienna Bar, because we were “walkers” (the term mechanized icers use to describe their pedestrian counterparts), and that’s where the steep drop-off into the lake’s deepest area comes closest to shore. About a quarter-mile out, Craig pulls out his smart phone, goes to the Navionics App and starts looking for the 20-foot depth on the drop-off, more specifically, “a bend in the structure.”

Craig likes to fish the bends because they attract more fish. When he finds one, he digs a hole and lowers his MarCum LX5 sonar into it. 

“The bottom’s carpeted in fish,” he announces with the excitement of a man who just had the world’s most beautiful woman invite him over for a chat. 

He digs a couple more holes. Setting up his Otter Double--a two-man shelter--he pulls out a jigging rod loaded with a Slender Spoon, hooks on the top half of a pinched buckeye (he actually lets his left thumbnail grow all winter so he can pinch bait--and irritate his wife). Dropping it to bottom, he lifts it a couple inches and starts jigging pretty forcefully, in 4- to 6- inch sweeps, punctuated every 6th time or so by lifting it to arms-length.

I tie-on a Northland Buck-Shot Rattle Spoon, bait it, and follow his lead.

After about 30 minutes, our arms are twitching … Nothing.

We move about 10 yards north, into 28 feet of water. Craig drops his bait. A line separates from bottom and rises toward it (the lake floor, fish and the lure all appear as short horizontal lines on the graph).

“Seeing a separation head for your bait is very exciting. When it merges with the bait, the temptation to set the hook can be overwhelming. But don’t do it!” he says, with a look as serious as cancer. “Wait until you feel the hit before setting the hook,” he advises.

The fish hits. Barely legal, we agree it’s still a nice one. Breaking out in a smile, the master says “I can’t remember ever seeing a bad one, come to think of it.”

Dropping his lure back down, Craig gets another hit almost immediately, but loses it.

Things are starting to smoke, I think.

I get a hit without seeing a separation. The fish sped in out of the sonar’s range. It’s a shorty, too.

A couple minutes later, I watch a separation rise to my lure. Then it goes down again. Then it comes up. 

“Steady…steady,” Craig instructs.

After playing a mind game for a couple minutes, the fish hits. The fight is a good one. We’re using 4 lb. test line so it takes a couple minutes. But it appears, dodging maddeningly in and out of view. Finally, it goes vertical and Craig pulls it out of the hole.

After high-fiving, and taking hero shots, I decide to lay the thing down near the graph to get a photo of our set up.

Craig warns me not to…But no, I don’t listen. Somehow, that big, fat walleye managed to stick her head back into the hole. Craig grabbed her, but she slipped through his fingers like an exciting dream when you wake up. 

The Cleveland, Phillips and Vienna Bars boast drop-offs where walleyes and perch gather in winter, and slowly move west. Find the magic depth and you’ll stand a good chance of pulling fish dinners out of the hole until your arms hurt.

Still, Craig reminds everyone: “Grand slams don’t happen very often; only about 1 in 25 times out. But that’s what makes ‘em so worth it.”

You can access the best walleye spots from the Cleveland Docks Fishing Access site at the sharp bend on the hamlet’s east side, and at the little park at the end of Mill Street in the village of Constantia. 

Craig landing a good one.

One of our shorties

Craig on Ice

Icing Hawg Perch

By Spider Rybaak

Burt with Billington Bay ice hawg.

Oneida Lake is one of the most productive lakes in the country. No matter what warm-water species you have swimming in and out of your imagination all day long, the place is full of ‘em.

Still, yellow perch ranks as top dog, year-round. And lately, they’re bigger than ever and more plentiful than at any time in recent memory. In fact, 2014’s first weekend saw colorful shanty cities sprout all over the lake, and the perch spread on the ice outnumbered all other species by about 10 to 1.

So when Burt Menninger called, saying: “Sorry to call you on such short notice Spider, but there’s a good perch bite on right now.  My contacts caught their limits yesterday and they’re well on their way to matching that today. I’m leaving within the hour. Wanna come?”

His words launched me into a flurry of activity that had the whole house (four cats and my sweetheart) running for cover.  What can I say?  My stuff is stashed all over the house and I had the opportunity to go ice-fishing with one of the lake’s living legends; nothing was gonna stand in my way.

You see, Burt has lived on the lake for almost 60 years. In that time, he’s fished every inch of the place. In fact, his reputation for catching walleye and perch was so widespread in the last century, a popular refrain around the lake was “If Burt ain’t catching fish, no one is.” And while 75 years of life have slowed him down a bit lately, he still knows his stuff.

Before long, we were standing on the ice in the fish-rich southeastern corner of Oswego County’s territorial waters. Cazenovia’s Michael Sattler (an old friend of Burt’s) and son Hunter did their reconnaissance well and a batch of perch was sprawled out in front of their ice shanty like a Persian rug.

We stood on ice 11 inches thick, over 18 to 20 feet of water. Burt started catching perch, including monstrous 13-inch hawgs, on hardware tipped with a perch eye. Mike and Hunter were doing equally well on buckeyes. I started nailing them on flatheads. Jim Evans, another buddy of Burt’s who was already out there when we arrived, was running around tending tip-ups loaded with buckeyes.

At one point, Jim’s action was so fast and furious, he called Hunter over: “There’s a load of them down here. Fish one of these holes before they move.

They moved, eventually, over to my hole, then over to Burt’s, followed by Jim’s tip-ups, one after the other…round and round.

So dig a couple holes in a 50-foot radius and when they stop hitting in one, do “the ice fisherman’s troll:” move to the next.

Rick Sorensen, over at App’s Landing, a bait and tackle shop at the Cleveland Docks, says the perch are scattered all over the lake, and any spot can produce right now.

The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s Web site offers an informative feature on ice fishing, covering everything from clothing to tackle and techniques. Check it out at www.dec.ny.gov/outdoor/7733.html. If you’re new to ice fishing and don’t have time to read the above article, the most important thing you should know is the power of ice. While many veterans won’t go out unless the lake is paved in at least 3 inches, the DEC considers 2/3 of that safe.

Below is a short list of DEC’s recommendations drawn from the article:

Ice Thickness               Permissible Load

2 inches                       one person on foot

3 inches                       group in single file

7.5 inches                    one car

10 inches                     light truck (2.5 tons)

In addition, stay away from open water and tributary mouths.

Hunter's bucket running over.

Michael next to his rug of perch.

Jim with three in five minutes.

Ice Fishing before Christmas

By Spider Rybaak

A couple happy ice fishermen.

The seriously cold weather we’ve had over the past couple of weeks put a hurtin’ on a lot of folk’s faith in global warming. Indeed, cousin Staash was about to use the pages of his autographed copy of Al Gore’s “Earth in the Balance” to fire up his pot-bellied stove. Saturday’s unseasonably high temperatures stopped him in his tracks and he returned it to its place of honor on his book shelf (that’s not so honorable considering he’s only got one book).

The extreme cold followed by the warm spell created a situation you don’t find around these parts very often: “Ice fishing before Christmas,” in the words of Jim Denson. He spent the better part of Sunday morning on Oneida Lake’s Big Bay with sons Kyle and Ryan.

Their efforts were rewarded with a mess of bluegill and pumpkinseeds, punctuated with several hawg crappies. All were caught on tiny ice jigs tipped with spikes (a gentleman’s word for maggots).

Ryan claimed the ice was 3 inches thick, safe enough, according to the DEC’s Web site (http://www.dec.ny.gov/outdoor/7733.html), to support groups of ice fishermen lined up in single file.

They weren’t the only ones courageous enough to brave the early ice. Indeed, a larger number was out there on Saturday. But the following day’s warmer weather discouraged a lot from returning. By Sunday afternoon, the number of anglers was down to about a dozen, but for everyone leaving, new guys were coming out.

Getting out on the bay from DEC’s Toad Harbor Fishing access site on Shaw Drive (at the end of Toad Harbor Road, off NY 49, West Monroe), was too dangerous over the weekend because of soft spots. Most guys paid to park in the private lots of commercial operations like Big Bay Marina, on Camic Road (off CR 37), and other  businesses in the neighborhood, and skirted the ice looking for high spots before heading out.

If the warm spell continues, the ice will probably be too dangerous by Tuesday.  Be careful.



Jim Denson (center) and sons Kyle (left) and Ryan
with Sunday's catch.

Sunday afternoon on Big Bay.

Icing Around

By Spider Rybaak

Dan and Kaytee of Constantia and part of their catch.

Cousin Staash called last Saturday morning to report: “Global warming’s on hold. The ice on Oneida Lake is anywhere from 7 to 11 inches thick and the place looks like tent city, man. Wanna go ice some perch, maybe a few walleye?” he asked.

Syracuse wouldn’t be playing Villanova for another three hours so I figured why not.  I met him at the Cleveland Docks fishing access site and we walked out onto the water. 

An hour later, we’re fishless. Another hour goes by and all we got to show for it is the memory of a couple runts we released. I decide to go home and watch the game.

Stopping at a couple shelters on the way, none admitted to having caught anything of significance. One voice in a lone shanty isolated from everyone else by several hundred feet of frigid emptiness on all sides claimed he hadn’t seen a fish all morning. Blood stains on the ice at two of his five tip-ups testified otherwise, especially since the footprints to and from the holes led to his Clam.

It was pretty obvious he had secrets he wasn’t going to reveal so I just kept walking towards shore and my appointment with Syracuse University basketball’s second disappointment of the season.

Sunday morning rose squeaky white, blue and cold. The loss to Villanova was only a heartbreaking memory and I resolved to forget about it and go on with my life. The first steps on the ice set things right again.

It was that quick because a couple that was coming in as I was going out had fish: two yellow perch about 11 inches each, and a white perch only slightly shorter but twice as broad. They got ‘em on minnows.

A little further out I’m at a crossroads: the group of shanties off to the right was a couple hundred yards closer than the one to the left, so, you guessed it, I went right.

Before long, I’m surrounded by a bustle of activity I haven’t seen on Oneida Lake since Labor Day weekend…if then. Dozens of colorful shelters punctuated the frozen waterscape, conversations of their tenants riding the frosty air. 

Snowmobiles and ATVs ran in every direction. Man-drawn sleds loaded with equipment moved back and forth over the sparkling setting. And everywhere in between, lone anglers sat out in the open, fishing minnows on Jigging Raps or spoons like Swedish Pimples, or insect larvae on tiny ice jigs like Someday Isle Tackle’s Water Puppets and Shimmerlings.

Seeing the entrance to one shelter open, I go over. A walleye is on the ice at the door. Inside, Jim McCarthy, a resident of Clinton, sits steely-eyed, focusing on a tip-up about 10 yards away.

Not realizing he’s having a hit, I commence to bugging the man with questions like how they hittin’?

“My flag just went up,” he responds and flies out of the tent with such blurring speed, I’m left wondering if he was ever really there.

I follow him to the tip-up and the reel’s spinning so fast I worried the friction would create so much heat it would undermine the ice below our feet. But Jim was faster and before you know it, he’s got a whopper of a perch on the ice.

A couple more stops revealed the action was similar everywhere. One lady described it perfectly: “They ain’t exactly jumping out of the holes to get our baits; they’re biting steady, just enough to keep the excitement flowing and to put dinner on the table tonight.”

 Like dancing on ice.

 Hot ice action: Oneida Lake.

Jim McCarthy with a nice walleye he took on a large buckeye in 18 feet of water.

McCaCarthy landing a whopper perch. 

Big Bay on Ice

By Spider Rybaak

Lyndon Bentley, Pennelville, NY, with a nice mixed bag of sunnies and crappies.

Most ice-fishing stories set on Oneida Lake cover its fantastic walleye and perch fishing. And that’s only right, seeing how these two tasty species thrive in just about every gallon of the lake. In fact, as this is being written [February 8], ice crowning the deep water off Chapman Park, Lewis Point and Sullivan Beach is so crowded with anglers, it looks like it’s being taken over by “Occupy Wall Streeters” in blue shacks.

And though the bite has cooled considerably from the hot and furious action of late last month, enough 10 to 12-inch perch and 15 to 21-inch walleyes are biting to keep guys on the hardwater from dawn to after dark.

But there’s more in the lake than just these two. Indeed, sunfish and crappie, two popular species for ice anglers, call the lake’s productive waters home, too. And the best spot to get them is in Oswego County.

Especially in Big Bay, that big dent in the lake’s northwestern corner. Averaging 8-feet deep, loaded with weeds, it’s the perfect habitat for these sumptuous critters.

What’s more, ice on the bay comes early, thickens quickly and stays late, come hell or high water. Indeed, even during last week’s heat wave, when the majority of anglers either stayed home or close to shore, guys were all over Big Bay.

Sunnies, primarily bluegills, average the size of a big man’s hand. They’re inclined to strike small jigs tipped with mousies, spikes or waxworms.

Crappies run from 10 to 13 inches. I know, because when I was there last week, I peeked into as many buckets as I could. Their owners stared back at me like I was bad meat or something, probably  because I went around bent-over,  walking softly (I didn’t want to disturb them or the fish, you see) lifting lids off buckets, taking pictures and stuff.  But they always calmed down when I told them I was researching a paper.

Calico bass prefer larger baits than sunfish; waxworms tipped on Swedish Pimples, for instance, and fish baits like buckeyes or flatheads.

Crappies and sunfish move around a lot throughout the water column, and are as likely to strike right below the ice as over the heads of weeds or on bottom along the edges of vegetation, so fish at various depths until you find ‘em.

For ice fishing safety tips, check out the NYS DEC web site at www.dec.ny.gov/outdoor/7733.html.

Bentley's best of the day.

Alex Doughty (left) and Alex (AJ) Jr., with  a little part of their catch.

Steve Martin, Warners, NY, holding two of his bucketload of pumpkinseeds taken at Big Bay.

First Ice on Oneida Lake

By
Spider Rybaak

A walk on the ice.

Winter finally paved all of Oneida Lake in ice on January 15th, the third Sunday of the month. The sight of all that hard water was too much for some guys to handle, causing them to put away common sense and venture out onto the fresh, thin sheet. I waited on shore for short spells throughout the day hoping to catch one coming in (I knew enough not to go out there), but luck wasn’t with me and none came; it smiled on the anglers, however, because I didn’t hear of anyone falling through.

The following week witnessed a full menu of meteorological conditions: clear skies and sixty mph winds one day, heavy snow the next, unseasonably warm weather after that …typical NY weather.  By mid-week, ice still claimed about two-thirds of the place, with huge holes punctuating it like Swiss cheese. Most of the north shore was open water.

On Thursday frigid temperatures swept out of the north, gripping Central New York in an icy embrace.  Artic winds joined the fray on Friday, growing stronger and stronger as the day wore on, reaching speeds  up to 40 mph at sunset. By morning, the lake looked like a deep-pan garlic pizza: a crystal clear base topped with patches of snow, ringed by a crust of huge fragments of squeaky-clean ice piled up to five feet high in spots.

Knowing the jagged ice clinging to shore resulted from the previous evening’s high winds breaking up the ice pack was enough to keep most experienced guys on shore. Still, a motley group of daredevils, die-hards and potential suicides went out Saturday morning. At last word, they all returned.

One guy riding around Lakeport Bay on an ATV wasn’t so lucky. Apparently, the snowmobilers whipping by all morning caused him to figure: I can do that. Well, he went out about 50 yards too far, over water that was 20-something feet deep, hit a weak spot and his $10,000.00 machine submerged like a wacky-rigged submarine. He managed to bail out and was last seen with some friends on Monday trying to pull the soggy four-wheeler out of the drink. I don’t know how they made out.

Temperatures on Saturday night, January 21, sank to single digits, welding the lake’s broken floes and spackling its ice holes into a solid, level surface by morning. On Sunday, the sun came up on colorful groups of ice-fishermen scattered on the ice like flowers over a field after a spring rain.

And while no one claimed the fishing was great, quite a few thought it was good.  Perch running from 10 to 13 inches were the most cooperative. A few walleyes were caught, but the bite was disappointing.

Successful anglers claimed the fish were taken in water ranging from 18 to 25 feet deep. Buckeyes were the most productive bait but some did quite well gently shaking ice jigs tipped with spikes or Swedish Pimples flavored with whole minnows or just their heads.


The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s Web site offers an informative feature on ice fishing, covering everything from clothing to tackle and techniques. Check it out at http://www.dec.ny.gov/.

Warning, Cleveland, NY.

Dylan Hull, Waterville, NY, with a pair of keeper perch.

Chris Peck, Deansboro, NY, holding a legal walleye and a jack perch.

Oswego County wildlife.

Cleveland Docks.

First ice on Oneida Lake.

Snowshoing Cleveland's ice at Dusk.

Jacks in the Ice

Eric Arbogast with some nice Oneida Lake walleyes.

Climate change is a funny thing. The experts claim the world is warming. Oneida Lake formed safe ice a week before Christmas – two weeks earlier than normal – indicating things are cooling down. It’s enough to make you question the weather forecasting business.

One thing’s for certain, however. Today, January 5, Oneida Lake is crowned in an ice cap that’s six inches thick.

Ice fishermen and snowmobilers are all over the place. Some spots are so crowded with ice shelters they look like ice-fishing villages. And the fish are cooperating.

Also known around these parts as jack perch, they’re huge; averaging a solid 10 inches.
A lot are even bigger, up to 13 inches. They’re hanging out in about 20 feet of water and they’re taking Swedish pimples tipped with buckeyes.

Rick Sorenson of Apps Landing Bait Shop claims guys are coming back regularly with 20 to 30 perch. And he should know, located right at the entrance to the DEC’s popular Cleveland Dock fishing access site (parking for 15 cars and close proximity to the magical 20-foot depths), and offering a complete selection of ice-fishing bait and tackle, he’s got anglers coming and going constantly, giving him play-by-play reports on all the action.

On the hard water, anglers are proving how accurate Sorenson is. One pair of guys on the ice out in front of the shop had so many; from a distance it looked like they were sitting on ice carpeted in perch.

Bob Twichell of Fayetteville had about 15 on the ice, five of ‘em 13-inchers. He was using an old technique: drawing fish to his bait with a decoy. He’d bait a line with a perch eye, let it down to the bottom, crank it up a couple of inches and rest the rod on the edge of the ice. Then he’d call fish in by violently jigging a Sonar in a hole a couple feet away.

Bob Twitchell landing another perch.

His buddy Kyle Storie, scored much better using contemporary tactics. He had a fish finder in his hole, and jigged a dot tipped with a buckeye.

Kyle Storie and his carpet of jack perch.

Twichell says, “Walleyes come through all the time. But they don’t hit well until 4 or 5 p.m., when it starts getting dark.”

An old wives’ tale says early ice is the best for ice-fishing; probably because the fish haven’t had their senses overwhelmed with motorized augers, snowmobiles, cleats, you name it.

So get out there, walk quietly and pack a lot of bait. The fish you catch will make your shivering worthwhile.

Andrew Allerton with a nice catch he took on a Swedish Pimple tipped with a buckeye.