Fishing for Autumn Steelheads with Internet Friends By Milton F. Whitmore
as it appeared in Midwest Outdoors

Shoeman, Chef, T-Bone, Mechanical Head, Northern Outdoorsman, Dryfly? Code words for secret agents? No! They are the online names of some very serious angling enthusiasts who reside in Michigan and gather online at a site called "Michigan-Sportsman.com", which is a cyber gathering place for those interested in outdoor pursuits. The brainchild of Steve Helinski, who is the editor and publisher, the site offers its users the opportunity to meet, commune, and learn from each other. Offering forums, a chat room, articles, and much more the site is one of the success stories of the internet. It can be found at: http://www.michigan-sportsman.com.

One of the more exciting pursuits originating from this online masterpiece are the "outings". Periodically during the year one of the members organizes a weekend gathering that involves fishing for trout on one of Michigan’s larger river systems. Such an outing was organized on the Saturday after Thanksgiving and offered camaraderie and fishing opportunities on the Big Manistee River.

Organized by "Chef", whose real world name is Chris Sutton, the crew began to gather at The Land’s Inn Hotel in Ludington, Michigan, which was headquarters for the weekend. Friday night was spent as a reunion of old friends and meeting the newcomers, of which I was one. The humor, kidding, jokes, and stories flew fast and furious. Intermixed with a generous portion of fish talk, it made for an entertaining evening.

Plans were laid for several of us to meet on the Big Manistee River at the Bear Creek access site in the morning for a float trip for steelheads.

White Fence Landing and an Introduction To Float Boats

At about 9:30AM the crew met at what is locally called the White Fence Landing on the Big Manistee River. Shoeman had brought along his river driftboat, Mechanical Head drove up trailering his 18' Sea Ark boat complete with 65 hp Merc jet motor. Others brought their Float Boats. Developed by Dryfly, Dave McIntire, the Float Boat offers the angler a unique personal watercraft that is great for fly fishing, river running, photography, hunting, and any other water involved activity that the user can imagine.

Off and Rowing: The Adventure Begins

It took about five minutes to assemble and, with the help of a battery powered air pump, to inflate the pontoon boats. Shoeman’s drift boat was launched amid good humor teasing that is easily exchanged among friends. Mechanical Head’s Sea Ark slide effortlessly into the river. He moored the craft and his experienced hands quickly prepared it for fishing. After launching the two larger boats and putting together the Float Boats we were off. Mechanical Head and Quix20 road the Sea Ark downriver followed by Shoeman and Broncobuster in the Shoe’s drift boat. The rest of us, Dryfly, Neopolis, Chef, Serial Fish Killer, Splitshot, and myself fell in behind. The Float Boats were easy to maneuver using its oars and seemed to be comfortable to sit in, but this was merely the beginning of a long trip downstream.

At this point, the Big Manistee was broad. It flowed smoothly over a sand bottom broken now and then by stretches of gravel. Trees, which had given up the fight against the current, offered plenty of fish holding cover on even the slightest bend. An overnight rain had colored and warmed the river.. We slowly oared our way down river, each of us lost in our own thoughts of the fishing success that we were certain lay ahead.

For the most part we used spawn sacs floated under bobbers, or "strike indicators" as the fly flingers in the group choose to call them. Bear Creek enters the mainstream not far below the access point and offered deeper water, gravel, and ample room for several boats to fish. Over the years its current has sliced a deep run that arches alongside a sandy headland. The fish holding potential of this section of the Big Manistee was obvious. Gentle ribbing among the outing guys flowed like the current itself. News of recent fishing experiences were shared. New techniques, both successful and otherwise were shared. As enticing as the water looked it sacrificed no fish to the group.

A Deep Gravel Run Renews Our Efforts

The current increased it’s leisurely tempo and flowed up against a long hill on the north side of the river.  Shoeman, with Broncobuster aboard, arrived at the run first. Tossing a spawn sac he was rewarded with the solid thunk of a big fish strike. The fish dropped the offering and before the Shoe could reel in and cast again Bronco had his sac merrily bouncing along on the gravel right to the fish. The unmistakable rap of a hit was followed swiftly by an effective hook strike and the fish was on. Bronco deftly ignored his partner’s protests about, "you stole my fish" and expertly played the fresh run steelie. The fish, decidedly unhappy about being hooked, streaked downstream, peeling yards of line from Bronco’s reel. At the end of this initial dash the steelhead leaped free of the water just as the day’s only breath of sunshine broke through the low, overhang of clouds. In midair, or so it seemed, the fish turned and began a sizzling bolt back upriver. Bronco could only windmill his reel handle in a frantic effort to regain line. Once opposite the driftboat the fish made another gorgeous leap. It appeared to be in slow motion as it twisted and turned, seemingly defying gravity in front Shoeman and Bronco. Three more spurts began to tire the rainbow and he was brought to net. Poor Shoeman was left sputtering, still chagrined, as he weathered Bronco’s mischievous grin. From up and down the river hoots and hollers of encouragement was directed at both gentlemen.

The netting of this first fish renewed our efforts. Several of us anchored our Float Boats to take advantage of this obvious holding water. Splitshot choose to hug the outside of the bend at the top of the run while the rest of us strung out downstream. The gravel bottomed stretch of river measured about 100 yards in length and at least 40 yards in width easily supported our numbers.

The pace of the current was decidedly faster at this point so I removed the bobber. Tossing a spawn sac upstream from my anchorage, I could feel the telltale tick-tick of the egg laden netting bouncing on gravel and stones. Anticipation rose sharply with each cast. After several drifts I felt the take of a fish. The unmistakable rap-rap indicated some size. Again, and then again the sudden tug was repeated, but then my unseen quarry dropped the offering and my line drifted on downstream. Reeling in feverishly, I put on a fresh spawn bag and cast to the same spot upstream of the take. The familiar tick of gravel followed as my egg sac drifted lazily along the bottom. At precisely the same spot the fish struck again in the same double rhythm as before and again he spurned my offering. The trout gods would not smile. Long after the others had weighed anchor and continued downriver I plied the run with cast after cast, but was not rewarded with a fish.

The shoreline passed by in a seemingly never ending stream of bottomland brush and woods topped by ever moderating rises as the land ebbed and flowed its way downstream. Two more deep gravel runs presented new opportunities for fish. Although we threw in every trick we knew, it was to no avail. A few smaller trout were caught, but the large lake run fish we sought alluded us. Spawn sacs, plugs, and spoons were all tossed, but we found no takers. By now it was after 4PM and as we neared the end of the trip I marveled at how comfortable the ride in the Float Boat had been. There was none of the expected soreness and stiffness in my bones and muscles. We had been on the river since about 10AM and yet I was fit and ready for more.

Between us there was one fish to show, a fine steelhead of about 8 lbs caught early in the day by Broncobuster. Chef was understandably disappointed as he directed us to an off stream bayou entrance just upstream from Coho Bend Campground. Our trip was over. There were not many fish to show, but the day was well spent. Friendships were renewed and new ones made. Lessons were learned that could be applied in some later fishing adventure. The bonds of fishermen were cemented anew and each of us took away memories of a grand time on the river, vowing to "do it again."

Over the course of the past three years there have been several Michigan Sportsmen outings. Most were held on the Muskegon River in Newaygo County during the summer. Friends and their families camped, played, fished, and thoroughly enjoyed the company that each person brought to the mix. Information and techniques were shared freely and openly by the multi-aged group. Each outing offers the participants not only a chance to renew old friendships, but to also meet new companions. The wives and children, who may or may not fish, are welcomed and included in the bonding process.