JACK WOLLITZ The fickle ways of fish

For all the knowledge anglers amass during their years on the water, they never know what will show up on the ends of their lines.
Many are well-schooled in the behavior of their favorite species, and rig up with lures that are intended to capitalize on the patterns that are most likely to produce fish. That goes for walleyes, crappies, catfish -- just about everything with gills and fins.
But we nevertheless hear stories about unusual catches by anglers startled at the reality of what they see hooked to their lures.
One such instance happened to me earlier this season.
I drove out to Berlin Reservoir's causeway after work on a warm and drizzly March evening with plans to cast a jerkbait around the rocky slope for walleyes or perhaps a smallmouth bass. About 10 casts into the venture, the lure stopped suddenly and I set the hook.
The fish stayed down for a moment, leading me to suspect a nice walleye had grabbed the bait, then boiled in a brownish swirl near the surface. Ah, a smallie, I concluded.
I remained convinced that I had a nice bass right up to the end, when I dragged the fish to my feet. It was a 4-pound carp, the rear treble hook of the Smithwick Rogue clearly in the fish's mouth as though it had tried to eat the offering.
Well that's unusual, but not unheard of. Carp, in moments of zaniness, do occasionally whack lures.
Another catfish tale
Equally unusual is when catfish chase down surface lures.
My wife and I decided to get a jump on the Memorial Day weekend with an night trip for largemouth bass at Mosquito Reservoir. The water was up in the willows and buck brush and the bass were "on fire. & quot;
But at least one 5-pound channel cat also was red hot enough to crush Barb's spinnerbait as she bulged it on top over a cover-laden flat. Our first impression was that a big old sow largemouth had grabbed the lure. The fish surged past Barb and tried to snag the line on the Merc's prop.
She finally got the fish back within reach, where it made one more splash on the surface. I immediately recognized the forked tail did not belong to any bass I'd ever seen, and laughed out loud when the cat's bewhiskered face appeared.
That encounter reminded me of a bass tournament many years ago on the Ohio River when a number of anglers intent on snatching bass on buzzbaits in feeder creeks reported hook-ups with channel cats tempted into striking their lures as they gurgled on the surface.
Ways of the walleye
Anglers in this portion of Ohio are well-acquainted with the ways of the walleyes and many are highly skilled at locating and catching offshore fish in late May.
Few, however, bother pitching walleye baits into shore-hugging willows. Perhaps they should consider giving it a try, judging by the experience of several bass anglers two weeks ago at West Branch Reservoir.
After a day of frustration caused by five bass that escaped while I tried to wrestle them from the gnarly branches of flooded brush, I began counting the minutes until it was time to head back to the launch ramp.
I had managed to land three bass and was intent on working every square inch of cover in the last 100 feet of bank that remained in front of my boat before my deadline. I pitched my Texas-rigged tube bait into a particularly inviting location and felt the nice "tick" that usually means a bass has accepted the offering.
The hookset was clean and the initial jerk pulled the fish free of the snags where I could safely play it out. The only problem is it was not a bass, but a 21-inch walleye. Fun, to be sure, but the fish counted for zero in the little bass tournament.
Plug-eating carp. Surface-feeding catfish. And walleyes in a foot of water. Just when you think you've got them figured out, the fish prove we're only human.
jwwollitz@aol.com