I had been privy to the stories - indelible tales woven from years upon years of first-hand experience, the underlying theme usually consisting of a failure to capture the proverbial ‘great white whale’ as illustrated in Melville’s treasured American classic, “Moby Dick.” I had heard my father-in-law speaking in hushed tones of his yearly pilgrimage to Lake Winnebago each February, and with the utmost reverence as to the finned quarry at the very center of the entire adventure. From what I was able to deduce, he, along with a dedicated group of friends and compatriots embarked each year on a mission to pursue a true ancient relic in literal hand-to-fin combat.

As an aficionado for the notorious “adrenalin-rush”, I found my curiosity immediately piqued and as such let my interest be known. It wasn’t long and I found myself invited to engage in my own inaugural voyage aboard the “Pequoad”, otherwise known to the sub-culture of sturgeon spearers as ‘the frozen waters of the Winnebago System.’ It was there, just last February, that I came face-to-face with the pure insanity, yet utter asceticism, of the Wisconsin sturgeon spearing season. Truth be told, there are some things in life one must truly experience to appreciate – sturgeon spearing is one of them.

Sun Tzu, in the “Art of War”, insisted that before any battle one needs to, “know thy enemy”. While I hardly considered lake sturgeon “the enemy”, I did want to gain a further appreciation for my quarry and as such did a bit of research. The lake sturgeon is a true living fossil, a species of fish first making its appearance on Earth an estimated 100,000,000 years ago in the Upper Cretaceous period of the Mesozoic era. To gaze upon one of these behemoths is to catch a glimpse of an actual prehistoric life form. Lake sturgeon are the longest living fish species in the state of Wisconsin, the record being an 82 year old leviathan caught from lake Winnebago back in 1953; older specimens are possible, as evident by the capture of a 215 pound monster from Lake of the Woods that was aged at 152 years old. The mystic of the Winnebago system is that it likely holds the world’s largest natural self-sustaining population of lake sturgeon; yes you read that correctly, the WORLD’S largest.

With this knowledge as the back drop, I found myself huddled in an ice shack opening morning intently looking down the largest ice-hole I had ever found myself “fishing” from. As the small heater belched out Btu’s sufficient enough to allow me to sit in a t-shirt, a heavy wooden-handled spear sat perched on a hook just an arm’s length away. My brother-in-law, close friend, and fellow outdoor enthusiast Chris Hubbard sat immediately to my left, and as the minutes turned to hours, we continued to peer relentlessly into the subtly clouded waters of Lake Winnebago. Aside from seeing a number of overly inquisitive jumbo perch along with solving many of the world’s problems, the ‘great white whale’ did not appear during our allotted time to spear.

As a professional fishing guide and tournament angler, I know all-to-well that things do not always go as planned, especially when pursuing the largest freshwater members of God’s creation. While Chris and I were disappointed, we had set realistic expectations before venturing out and knew how slim the window of success would be; ironically enough, instead of becoming discouraged, our experience has only fueled the fire of determination. While I do not know how many sturgeon spearing seasons lie between us and success, I do know that I fully embrace the arrival of each one. As Captain Ahab himself said, “To the last I grapple with thee…”

It’s February in Wisconsin. It’s spearing season. Game on, sturgeon, game on! I’ll see you on the water…

Tight lines,