Pine Knot Outdoors: Tournament tension

Stretching out in front of us, dozens of boats jostled for position, awaiting blastoff. My oldest son, Joseph, and I tucked into the back of the pack; based on the 200-300 horsepower motors surrounding us, we weren't going to beat anyone to our fishing grounds. It was Saturday morning and we were competing in the Twin Ports Walleye Association walleye tournament on Fish Lake. Our anticipation built as the minutes ticked by. Our planning and preparation would soon be put to the test.

Tournament fishing is all about decisions. In the five minutes leading up to blastoff, we went over our plan. For the two of us, we had 10 rods rigged and ready to roll. Tucked into the rod compartment were three trolling rods for pulling large cranks in deep water. A couple more rods I tied up with Rapala jigging raps. Two other setups were adorned with jig-and-plastic combinations. Our remaining rods were all tied up for running shallow cranks. This would be our first plan of action.

In a mass, we all inched forward as 7 a.m. approached. We waited for the occupants of the first boat to make their move and punch down on their outboard. Based on our pre-fishing, we had specific stretches of water we wanted to troll, and we were nervous other boats would clog up our spots. As the clocked turned, engines roared to life and boats shot off across the lake. We watched anxiously as boat after boat sped past the first spot we wanted to troll. By the time the dust settled, almost the entire field was crammed together in one spot on the opposite side of the lake.

Joseph and I couldn't take our eyes off the mass of boats. Fifteen or more boats worked their small spot, leaving us with plenty of water to ourselves. We trolled for almost our entire weed line without adding a fish to our card. The tournament was a catch-photo-and-release format. We had a scorecard to register our fish, and we would turn in our top four, based on length. Joseph and I decided that 80 inches for four walleyes would be our goal - hopefully, that would put us in contention.

The first walleye came as a relief. We slid our net under its 16 ½-inch frame and got our first experience at registering our catch. I held it against a bump board provided by the tournament directors. Joseph photographed the fish on the board showing its length. One more picture of me holding the fish and back it went into the lake. We recorded its length and quickly we were back to fishing. We hooked a 19 ½-inch walleye within 30 seconds. I turned the boat away from the mass of other fishermen across the bay, discreetly sliding the net over the side of the boat and landing fish No. 2 for our card.

By 7:40 a.m. we had a full card. By 8 a.m. we had put 10 walleyes in the boat, and we had our pattern and spot to ourselves. We high-fived. Both of us acted like teenagers as excitement built with each fish. We had seven more hours to upgrade our top four. Joseph was convinced we would win the whole thing. I was convinced we needed more than numbers, we needed some longer fish.

After another hour, we reluctantly left biting fish to search for upgrades. We kept the same game plan and trolled shallow cranks along another stretch of shoreline. The fishing was slower, but quality improved as we added some chunky walleyes to our total.

By noon we had a decent card, but we really wanted to finish strong. The other eight rods we had rigged would never see action; we would stick with our trolling pattern until we ran out of time.

The wind began to chuck across the lake in the early afternoon. We tucked into a small pocket that the wind and waves churned from above. Joseph's rod doubled over almost immediately and we were in business. A healthy 23-inch fish kicked an 18 ½-inch walleye off the card. A pass later, Joseph's 23 ¾-inch fish anchored our haul for the day. We would return to the docks with 87.25 inches of walleye on our card.

We were excited about how our day turned out. We had worked well as a team and, most importantly, every fish we hooked, we landed. We listened in anticipation as the top three scores were announced. In the end, we missed out on third by three fourths of an inch. Joseph was a little bummed we didn't take the whole thing. I was proud of him and our showing against a field of great anglers.

Bret Baker is a lifetime resident of Cloquet and a proud husband, father, educator and outdoorsman. Bret began guiding fishing trips when he was 16 years old. Today, in his 40s, his passion is to introduce people to the tremendous outdoor adventures available in our region.