A story from 2000 about crappie fishing during a warm spell in early March

It now seems only a fond memory, like childhood Christmas mornings, but just a few short days ago the weather was warm and the living was easy.  Such was the overwhelming lure of the outdoors that this writer convinced several otherwise sane co-workers to mount an early-season assault upon the fish of the state, specifically the crappie residents of Cecil M. Harden reservoir in western Indiana.

Our day began as the four of us met and piled into my friend’s pickup truck.  The mood was buoyant as we pulled out of the driveway while discussing technique for the day and the results of an extra-innings social gathering the previous evening.   Don, the owner of the truck in question, casually mentioned his concern for a slight vibration of unknown origin that had developed in the truck but no one paid heed as the conversation wound onward.

Suffice to say that by the time the truck reached highway speed, the floorboards of the truck were sprinkled with dental fillings loosened by now intense shaking and Don fought the wheel like a ship’s captain during a hurricane.   The overall effect was remarkably similar to riding a paint mixer during an earthquake.  A roadside inspection revealed that a front tire had a broken belt and needed immediate replacement.

To condense the story to tolerable length, just know the rest of the morning involved major mechanical work including air-powered tools, driving past one bait shop, through a major construction zone, finding the bait shop at our destination closed, returning back through the construction zone, back to the first bait shop, back through the construction zone where the workers were now waving every time we passed and finally arriving, bright and early, at 11 a.m. on Raccoon creek below the dam.

Due to our late arrival, we found several fishermen already crowded into the small pool at the dam outflow.  The group answered our friendly questioning with taciturn shrugs and nods, but we also noticed several stringers full of slab crappie finning at their feet.

In the planning stages, our trip was initially for walleye that are said to reside below the dam during the spring months.   However, discussions among various sources convinced us that walleye were still vacationing elsewhere but crappies were almost in abundance.

Setting up shop on the riprap banks slightly downstream from the first pool, we unlimbered our weaponry.   We would be using lightweight spinning rods casting small jigs tipped with a live minnow, all floated under a small bobber.  This technique of suspended drift-fishing jigs is effective with many species in the faster water below dams no matter what the locale.

Whenever fishing in a group, there is always one fisherman who catches most of the fish.  This day was no exception as Don landed the first fish, then second and third.   This writer, always the expert angler, covertly began examining everything Don was doing in microscopic detail.   Our tackle and technique were identical, but still Don continued to catch fish.

The situation was becoming extremely frustrating and I began calculating how far downstream Don would be swept if he ‘accidentally’ fell off the streamside rocks.  After watching several more fish being caught literally under my nose, I finally realized the slight but critical difference

Our white lead jig heads were identical, except mine was dressed with a smattering of white feathers while Don’s were bare except for the crappie minnow.   After a quick defilement with a pocketknife, my now bare jig was re-tipped with a minnow and cast.     Within two turns of the reel handle, a chunky white crappie swirled and dragged the bobber under.   Shortly, the first fish of the new millennium was dripping in my hand and bound for the stringer.  It was the first of several.

Specifically, the rig that won the day was a 1/16-ounce plain white lead head jig tipped with a crappie minnow. This was suspended one foot beneath smallish slip bobber and cast into the faster moving main current.  As the bait drifted downstream, the line was tightened and the bait brought across the current into slack water very slowly.   The sideways movement was slow enough that the bobber barely registered any swirl of moving water when the line was tightened.

By 2 p.m. the fishing had slowed.  The men who were already fishing immediately below the dam when we arrived decided to leave and return near dusk.  Living nearby, they assured us that the crappie action on this particular stretch of water was hot and heavy in the early morning and late evening. This reminded us of that most famous old fishing tip: the two best times for fishing are yesterday and tomorrow.

Too bad I won’t be there.  I’ve had more than enough fun for one week.

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