A Paddling.  An 18-inch largemouth thrashes around and nearly jumps the paddle of the author’s kayak as an exciting surface battle concludes. Simonson Photo.

By Nick Simonson

Scattered below the bass tube dragging slowly just beneath the surface of the gin clear water was a herd of fish in every shape and size the small water could offer up.  From my view in the seat of my kayak, I watched the lead bluegills eye up the remaining undulating tentacles of the soft plastic, while the bigger bulls lagged behind, letting the younger year classes do the reconnaissance for the greater school.  Behind them, a couple handfuls of crappies tailed the amassing squad of intrigued fish, each speckle-sided panfish getting larger and larger, until at the back of the pack one of the bigger ones I had seen on the lake in recent years sparked my interest in perhaps coming back that evening with a few flashy jigs and some light tackle in tow.

Interspersed with the panfish, the black triangle tails of smaller largemouth bass flickered in the morning’s growing light and the shadows of larger ones looming off a few feet away from the integrated school brought me back to my purpose on the small water a short hop from my in-laws’ house.  I lifted the lure from the water and the school scattered and sunk.  The bluegills headed to the shallows, the crappies retreated to the growing weedline, and the bass swam around, a bit confused and perhaps regretful that what appeared to be an easy morsel had suddenly disappeared.  I turned the 10-foot kayak which I had purchased at a discount at the end of last summer and made my way around the dock that had produced a nice pair of 16-inch largemouth prior to my pause to observe the fish around me.

That perhaps is the most enjoyable part of kayak fishing, being so close to the water and what lies beneath the surface.  While certainly the view from the casting deck of any boat provides a wider take on what’s below, being on the surface, a few inches from the fish and in something a bit smaller, seems to make it feel more like a one-on-one experience. Perhaps too, the fish don’t seem to be as disturbed as I coast in toward a target dock or a prime stretch of angling area, such as a reed bed or a set of lily pads, and set up to zip off a silent cast ahead into those bass-holding locations.

Cruising away from the final dock in the stretch of cabins which leads to an area of state-owned shoreline, I stared out over the shallows and watched the form of a big largemouth bass slowly finning its way along the break between the reed-covered natural bank and the emerging weedline.  I loaded the rod and flipped the tube to a point about 15 feet in front of the fish and clicked the bail closed.  I didn’t have to wait long to watch the gray Fireline pop on the surface of the lake and see it tighten from the other end.  Setting the hook hard, the kayak lurched forward, and the bass broke the surface, mouth agape as it tailwalked and slammed down, digging toward the shallows.  Bulldogging through the leafy greens below and into the first few reeds, it powered back up and splashed around, all the while pulling the front of the kayak with it.

I’ve decided that my second favorite part of kayak fishing – especially with the super light model I came into last summer – is the ability of any fish of two pounds or more to move the bow of the boat a bit with a hard run.  It certainly adds to the excitement of the man versus fish contest that makes angling so much fun.  For some reason, I couldn’t help but think what it would be like to hook a 60-inch sturgeon in a kayak and get towed around Lake of the Woods. Meanwhile, the big bucketmouth was giving me all I could handle in the moment.

A few hard charges and some redirecting eventually brought the largemouth to hand for a quick photo and a release into the shallows alongside my craft, the nose of which was by then firmly planted in the shoreline and the sides were shrouded with the green stems of pencil reeds, as if I had parked to it remain camouflaged from prying eyes.  With my whooping and hollering, and discussing with the fish during the fight, however, I was certain that anyone else on the little lake was likely to have heard me and could have easily picked out my location simply by listening.

With so many ways to fish and having done so from boats both large and small, in canoes and waders, in rushing streams with the fly and on quiet ponds with light tackle, adding kayak angling to the mix has provided a new perspective on my oldest favorite pastime.  From all that can be seen from the low water angle to the personal connection I feel when I’m so close to the action, time spent with rod in hand, paddle balanced across my lap, and enjoying a whole new take on fishing has been a fortunate find…in our outdoors.