Dave Richey OUTDOORS

"Check it out," I told him, offering advice. "Make a few casts up near shore. It's at about your maximum casting distance. The walleyes, if they show up after dark, will be between us and shore.

"There's nothing to it. Close your eyes and just cast 15 yards or so, and you'll have the distance and feel down pat. Try casting now, and get used to how hard you must cast to put the lure in the key area."

He mumbled something about casting ability, and he had no need to practice. Yeah but, he said, and I noted that "yeah buts" don't count for squat once the sun goes down.

Fat summer walleyes hit well after dark.

We both sat quietly in the boat, and the sun disappeared in the west, and 45 minutes later, the lake was pitch black. And then we heard the fish arrive and began feeding.

"The walleyes are here," I said, firing a cast up toward shore. "Just cast that plug up near shore and reel just fast enough to make it wiggle. That splashing you hear are big walleyes feeding on alewives. Get your lure into the middle of them and you'll hook a big fish."

I grunted as I set the hook into a big fish. My friend who was so concerned about not needing practice tried a cast, and it landed behind him. The next try landed two feet from the boat, and then he got tangled in the line.

I quickly landed an 11 1/2-pound walleye, removed the hooks,  and made a second cast. The fish were in a feeding frenzy, and I hooked another fish. My friend was lost, and within a minute the feeding frenzy had ended, and he had never made one decent cast.

The second fish I hooked was bigger than the first, but it shook off during the scrap. I told my buddy I knew where the fish would be in five minutes.

"Get down in the bottom of the boat, don't shine the light over the water, and get your gear straightened out," I said. "Two minutes and we will anchor off the next spot the walleyes use when the bite is on, and you need  to get ready. Here, take my spare rod and forget that mess on the deck. We'll sort it out later.

"You know how to cast," he was coached. "I've watched you for years. Forget that the lake is dark. If necessary, open the bail and throw the lure by hand. They are here so get your lure in the water."

Casting at night requires practice. Try it before fishing this way.

It was a repeat of his earlier performance. I hooked another fish on the first cast, offered him the rod which he declined, and his plug landed everywhere except between him and shore. I boated an 8-pounder, and then the bite was over at that spot.

"What's the problem?" I asked. He said he couldn't see where to cast, and I suggested that was why I tried to get him used to knowing how hard to cast during daylight hours. Shutting his eyes and casting blind a few times would have given him a better idea of what to expect after sundown,

The poor guy just didn't have any experience in fishing after dark. It's a time when your senses become more important, and you must use your ears rather than your eyes to locate feeding fish. The fact that he was hard of hearing certainly played an important role, and he had been coached about casting straight out in front of him.

As a teenager I used to fish for largemouth bass on a nearby lake when I lived downstate, and my vision in many cases was better at night then than during the day, providing someone doesn't shine a flashlight in my eyes.

My late twin brother George unhooks a nice walleye.

Night fishing does require practice to hear bass smack and roll over on a surface lure. Poke it to them when you feel the weight, and you'll hook fish.

For me, pitching lures up next to a dock or moored boat or off a swimming raft, or near lily pads, comes natural. I won't be so stupid to state that every cast is on target, but most of them go where my eyes and ears tell me to cast.

And when someone offers to help you learn what it feels like to cast without vision, take them up on that because that 11-pound walleye might have hit his lure rather than mine. The only difference was mine landed where the fish were while his landed where they weren't.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors