Weird boat, weird weather

I checked out neighbor Mike's strange new craft. It is an old Sea Scow sailboat (made in Minnetonka) that has been modified in a number of cool ways.

The scow now has a wooden cabin (I shot the storm picture through one of the portals). It is powered by an ill-tempered Honda 10 h.p. four-stroke outboard. You steer the vessel with an extra-long, rudder.

It's a fun, Dr. Suess-ish (Suessian?) boat. You ride close to the water, which makes for a canoe-like experience.

We cruised from just south of the Lowry Bridge to the vicinity of the Camden. As you can see from the images, the weather was strange, blustery and wet one moment, beautiful and blue the next.

A mild surprise

This is the first northern I've landed since last fall.

It's not huge but still chunkier than the hammer handles I typically catch on this stretch of the river.

Fool for snow

I woke up on April 1 to the aftermath of a fairly spectacular spring snow storm. Instead of fishing (I didn't feel like shoveling snow out of the boat first thing in the morning), I tromped around the river in Northeast, camera in hand.

Most of the images are from Gluek park, which recently re-opened after a nearly endless asbestos abatement project.

Channel cat fever

The March bite has been good, especially at night.

I am still waiting for a lunker, but the fish illuminated by campfire was pretty respectable. Maybe four pounds or so.

Golden cats of spring

Okay, it doesn't look exactly spring-like and "golden" may be a bit of a stretch.

But, technically speaking, I caught the fish after the equinox. And, you must admit, the color is pretty good.

The well dressed catman

So what does a Man of Constant Leisure do on a winter morning when he's got a 10 a.m. funeral to attend? Well, he puts on his finest funeral duds, swills a pot of coffee, and, before attending to his grim obligation, sneaks down to the river for a little morning fishing.

On this morning, the well-dressed catman was rewarded with a sleek little channel cat.

So far this week, I have caught three cats. All hit on dead--almost jerky-like--fatheads. Meanwhile, the lively minnows I've tossed into the river have gone utterly ignored. This leads me to believe that the cats are in full scavenging mode.

Like Nixon in '68

I've returned from California, tanned, rested and ready. The main difference between me and the old Wax Banana : I'm not yet prepared to run for higher office, wage war, or subvert democracy.

No, my ambitions are more modest. I aim to harass the fish of my stretch of the Mississippi River, specifically Ictalurus punctatus, or the channel catfish.

The specimen posing with the handsome fellow to the left was caught on two very dead fathead minnows. It was the first fish of '08 for the Man of Constant Leisure and therefore, in spite of its puniness, worth celebrating.