Whale With Cataracts

Among all the species of freshwater gamefish available in the Northeast walleye occupy a funny little space between largemouth bass and pike. Like largemouth, they are extremely fickle and subject to wide pattern swings in response to just about any of a few million variables. One of my favorite descriptions of this behavior in largemouth came from Field and Stream fishing editor Joe Cermele: "...a duck farts in some creek 16 miles away and the whole lake shuts down".

Unlike largemouth, walleye, to me look like a real predator fish. And they are. I know, a big bucket mouth largemouth will suck down ducklings and snakes without giving it much thought and you'd be hard pressed to find a walleye in a position to just garbage food like that. I mean I've caught bass that had the tail feathers of small birds sticking out of their throats. But much like northern pike, walleye look like they mean business. They've got the teeth, the long muscular body, the fins of a shiner eater. They sit, stationed over whatever structure they choose to be, waiting for some baitfish to make a mistake. 

Walleye are without a doubt more nocturnal in nature than bass or pike. They are low light feeders, whether it be cloudy days, extremely deep water, or night time. With a handful of exceptions the time slot I focus on while targeting walleye is sunset until midnight. To fill the niche of primarily low light feeding these fish evolved with a reflective layer of pigment called the tapetum lucidum. This gives them an odd eye shine that few fish exhibit, oftentimes making them look like they have cataracts. 

For a while I had a pretty effective regiment down, I was catching walleye with fair consistency. I wasn't putting up really big numbers, but that is not surprising given their population size where I have to target them close to home. It isn't quite a musky hunt. Actually, scratch that, it kind of is. Even when I was catching them in what felt like good numbers it was less than 10 a year. That was immediately following a very long and grueling time of trying to catch my first one on fly with no success. 

The last walleye I caught was on May 18th last year. I have been targeting these fish regularly. I thought I had figured out patterns, flies to use, where to fish, depth, time of year, weather....

Four days ago I hooked and lost a confirmed walleye. That hurt. A deep, pain that pushed through me as I slowly laid back on the concrete slab that was my casting platform and let every last molecule of air out of my lungs with a drawn out, frustrated "nooooooo!". 

This species had been a Moby Dick for me once, a white whale I felt like I would never catch on a fly rod. And they have become that again. More of a whale with cataracts than a white whale. Time and time again I am out there doing what I think should be right with no results, experimenting, with no results, just floundering. I need a walleye and I need it now.