July 4th Eastern Oregon

"Whatcha usin'?"  If you're a fisherman you've probably heard or uttered this question a hundred times.  With any luck, you were on the receiving end of this phrase.
 
"Whatcha usin'?"
 
I could hear Jed plain as day.  I knew what he wanted but I wasn't ready to give it to him, yet. 
Flick, "5...4...3...2...1" I called out. tap tap "Fish On!" I was nearing 10 in a row and it was obvious that the bank bound crew was just as interested to know what I had on.
 
@#%^&(*@ ya bastard, what'r you usin'?
 
"5...4...3...2...1" tap tap "Fish On!"  As I extracted my magic jig from the mouth of yet another hand sized crappie, I smiled at Jed and quickly palmed my prize.
 
"Is that white?  Pearl?" 
 
Flick "5...4...3...2...1" tap tap "Fish On!"  As Jed frantically searched his tackle, I reached into my gearbox, paddled over and handed him one of the magic jigs. 
 
They were simple jigs.  A 1/32nd cylindrical head covered in a pearl colored rubber body.  Off the back waved several short tentacles with one longer segmented tentacle attached to the shank.  This was the same jig I'd used to pick up a nice smally right at the waterline the night before.  This day it was literally and figuratively a crappie Killer.

Unity Lake is no destination fishery.  It's about 30 miles from the middle of nowhere.  The wind is often mean and always unpredictable. The gamefish tight lipped and thin spread.  And, with the exception of the two beautiful rustic cabins we'd rented, sports a rather stark campground.


 
For 3 days, Jed, his dad John and I used the little pearl jigs to fill stringer after stringer with crappie.  We'd use them until the bodies could no longer stay on the head.  Sometimes, we'd tie the bodies back on with mono for a couple more fish.  The consistency was incredible.  When the winds were calm, I'd take one of my boys out with me to cash in on the action.  Even my 5 y/o had no problem catching a boatload with dad only there to paddle him around and take fish off the hook.
 
The catching was so mechanical, we would actually get bored and tie on other lures or chase other species to break up the monotony.  If we needed to feel a guaranteed bend though we'd go back to the little pearl crappie jigs and count "5...4...3...".



The 3 nights we spent at Unity were rich with food, fish and family (my girlfriend's).  At one point, 3 generations fished side by side in kayaks.  All laughing and cracking jokes except for the little guy who was taking his fishing very seriously. 



On the last day, as Nowell (my 5y/o) was laying into yet another fish from the kayak, one of the dam wall regulars finally broke the silence.
"OK, I give!" he called out in frustration "Whatcha usin?" 

Solid writing there Spot, very fun read. The crappie fishing looked crazy. Quite a pile o' slabs. Must of had one heck of a fish fry. I guess that's chapter two though huh?

Z

WOW!!   I wish I had tickets to that fish fry.  Nice table full of slabs!

Hey Spot, thanks for the report.  After our conversation on cleaning fish last week, did you wish you had an electric knife?  Did you perfect your 5 cut filleting?

Brian

Thanks Z!

Most of those fish were slated for an upcoming party in Baker City.  We had enough food along to feed an army.  I did however fry up a few for breakfast one day though.  It reminded me a lot of surf perch.

They weren't too bad to fillet, especially considering their size and the fact that I was using a serrated steak knife. 
One cut to remove the head.
One cut along the shoulder spine. (each side)
One cut to free the tail flap. (each side)
Two cuts to separate the belly meat from the ribs. (each side)
So I'd say they were 4.5 cut fillets.  With the serrated edge and the thinness of the belly it was taking two strokes to free the belly from the ribs.
The hardest part was scaling them without getting jabbed by the spines.


Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the rattlesnakes......  I found the 1st one while running thru the sprinklers with the kids.  He was poking out of a gopher hole.  The 2nd one wanted to haul out of the lake in my kayak.  Luckily he wasn't as persistant or as deadly as the seasnake that tried the same thing with my surfboard in Indonesia.