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Things have been kinda messed up for me lately and I haven't been able to get any appreciable fishing time in the schedule. Really hit and miss, mainly miss, for the past few months. Trips have been few and short.
I recently took skrimmy on a quick boat ride.
At least it was for me.
We got a late start and by the time we got to the prime spot we wanted to fish, we really only had a short time to fish. In fact, I really needed to be off the water rather soon. In fact, when we got to this hole I looked at my watch. It read 12:55. I really wanted to be on the road by 3 at the absolute latest.
The skrimaster, armed with such knowledge, wasted no time applying a lethal mixture of ultra secret scent to his lure. He swore me to secrecy as far as the ingredients, but I can assure you of three things;
1) It contained absolutely no carrot products and was not orange by any stretch.
2) It did contain Marie’s Shrimp Oil as a core ingredient
3) This is where it gets dicey – He put something with it that he called “Coyote [stuff]” He swore he got it from a rancher in Eastern Oregon who used to hunt them as varmints, but now hunts them for bait.
Anyway, I got the Willie stationed in the only hole we could find that wasn’t totally crowded – like a typical day on the Cow – and put out my rig as skrimmy applied his magic to his plug. He was also chanting something, though I am not certain what it was. It sounded sorta like, “Mmmmmm, luv ta luv me baby, Mmmmm, luv ta luv me baby.”
He then dropped his rig over the side as I shook my head in disbelief and looked behind at my gear to make sure the boat and we were properly lined up in the slot.
As I happened to glance to my right, I noticed that skrimmy’s rod was bent over in a classic “C” configuration as he nonchalantly mentioned that he had a fish on! It took no more than 20 seconds I swear.
We had pulled in at the very top of a hole, out of the hole really, as there was a guide boat below in the hole itself. The guides and clients looked on in wonderment as skrimmy’s fish took off like the proverbial bat out of Hates.
After a 7minute struggle, this came to the boat:
![]()
Can we say chromer, boyz and girls? Wow!
31 pounds of fall hen ‘nook comes to skrimmy.
Now, I figure this is a fluke. I mean any blind mouse can accidently into a vat of cheese once in awhile, right?
So, after landing the fish I motored us upstream back to the top of the run for a second time. I drop my gear in as skrimmy has already put his fish in the box and tagged it. I was expecting big things on my rod any moment, but nothing.
A few moments later, skrim gets back to his rod. Again he puts the magic elixer on his lure and begins the strange chant. “Mmmmmm, luv ta luv ya baby. Mmmmm, luv, ta luv ya baby.” Then he drops his gear over the side. I looked at my watch. It read 1:06. I looked up. Skrimmy was setting the hook!
Oh, my.
The clients in the guideboat asked if I had room as we floated by, as skrimmy, smiling like a Chesire cat, engaged in a classic tug of war with another fall bemouth.
After another expert demonstration of fishing skill, skrimmy brought the second hog to the boat where the net was dipped and this critter was brought in:
![]()
Not quite as large at 27 pounds, nor as bright, but this one being a buck was still in very fine shape.
As the fish hit the floor in the Willie, I glanced again at my watch. It was 1:13.
Total fish time:
1 Minute
Total landing time:
14 minutes
Total clock time to fish and limit on Fall Chinook:
15 minutes
Total elapsed time:
18 minutes
After such a performance I was so [insert choice word here]
Shocked
Awestruck
Impressed
Disgusted
Embarrassed
Proud
Inadequate
Enraged
Disturbed
Dishelmed
Disbelieving
Daunted
Intimidated
Slammed
Pounded
Ticked
Angry
Furious
Happy
Confused
Speechless
Burnt
Frazzled
Sapped
Spent
Excited
Annoyed
that there seemed to be no reason to continue fishing. Skrimmy was so busy doing the happy dance – He’s been taking lessons – that the Willie was rocking worse than a 12’ Klamath at Buoy 10.
So, I headed for the ramp where skrimmaster could not resist asking for one more shot of his catch, box bloody but fresh.:
![]()
I should mention skrimmy is not a small guy.
All in all a great time, even if I really didn’t get to fish much.
Next weekend I might go Coyote hunting. :wink: Time to check the hunting board!
:cheers:
[ 11-24-2003, 04:56 PM: Message edited by: Hogmaster ]
I recently took skrimmy on a quick boat ride.
At least it was for me.
We got a late start and by the time we got to the prime spot we wanted to fish, we really only had a short time to fish. In fact, I really needed to be off the water rather soon. In fact, when we got to this hole I looked at my watch. It read 12:55. I really wanted to be on the road by 3 at the absolute latest.
The skrimaster, armed with such knowledge, wasted no time applying a lethal mixture of ultra secret scent to his lure. He swore me to secrecy as far as the ingredients, but I can assure you of three things;
1) It contained absolutely no carrot products and was not orange by any stretch.
2) It did contain Marie’s Shrimp Oil as a core ingredient
3) This is where it gets dicey – He put something with it that he called “Coyote [stuff]” He swore he got it from a rancher in Eastern Oregon who used to hunt them as varmints, but now hunts them for bait.
Anyway, I got the Willie stationed in the only hole we could find that wasn’t totally crowded – like a typical day on the Cow – and put out my rig as skrimmy applied his magic to his plug. He was also chanting something, though I am not certain what it was. It sounded sorta like, “Mmmmmm, luv ta luv me baby, Mmmmm, luv ta luv me baby.”
He then dropped his rig over the side as I shook my head in disbelief and looked behind at my gear to make sure the boat and we were properly lined up in the slot.
As I happened to glance to my right, I noticed that skrimmy’s rod was bent over in a classic “C” configuration as he nonchalantly mentioned that he had a fish on! It took no more than 20 seconds I swear.
We had pulled in at the very top of a hole, out of the hole really, as there was a guide boat below in the hole itself. The guides and clients looked on in wonderment as skrimmy’s fish took off like the proverbial bat out of Hates.
After a 7minute struggle, this came to the boat:
Can we say chromer, boyz and girls? Wow!
31 pounds of fall hen ‘nook comes to skrimmy.
Now, I figure this is a fluke. I mean any blind mouse can accidently into a vat of cheese once in awhile, right?
So, after landing the fish I motored us upstream back to the top of the run for a second time. I drop my gear in as skrimmy has already put his fish in the box and tagged it. I was expecting big things on my rod any moment, but nothing.
A few moments later, skrim gets back to his rod. Again he puts the magic elixer on his lure and begins the strange chant. “Mmmmmm, luv ta luv ya baby. Mmmmm, luv, ta luv ya baby.” Then he drops his gear over the side. I looked at my watch. It read 1:06. I looked up. Skrimmy was setting the hook!
Oh, my.
The clients in the guideboat asked if I had room as we floated by, as skrimmy, smiling like a Chesire cat, engaged in a classic tug of war with another fall bemouth.
After another expert demonstration of fishing skill, skrimmy brought the second hog to the boat where the net was dipped and this critter was brought in:
Not quite as large at 27 pounds, nor as bright, but this one being a buck was still in very fine shape.
As the fish hit the floor in the Willie, I glanced again at my watch. It was 1:13.
Total fish time:
1 Minute
Total landing time:
14 minutes
Total clock time to fish and limit on Fall Chinook:
15 minutes
Total elapsed time:
18 minutes
After such a performance I was so [insert choice word here]
Shocked
Awestruck
Impressed
Disgusted
Embarrassed
Proud
Inadequate
Enraged
Disturbed
Dishelmed
Disbelieving
Daunted
Intimidated
Slammed
Pounded
Ticked
Angry
Furious
Happy
Confused
Speechless
Burnt
Frazzled
Sapped
Spent
Excited
Annoyed
that there seemed to be no reason to continue fishing. Skrimmy was so busy doing the happy dance – He’s been taking lessons – that the Willie was rocking worse than a 12’ Klamath at Buoy 10.
So, I headed for the ramp where skrimmaster could not resist asking for one more shot of his catch, box bloody but fresh.:
I should mention skrimmy is not a small guy.
All in all a great time, even if I really didn’t get to fish much.
Next weekend I might go Coyote hunting. :wink: Time to check the hunting board!
:cheers:
[ 11-24-2003, 04:56 PM: Message edited by: Hogmaster ]
