I was expecting big pike, but when one actually materialized from the dark, murky waters of the bay, it startled me. It was the first decent fish of the day, which had started off a bit slow. When the three-foot-plus pike hit the 4 ½-inch gold Half-Wave, me retrieve came to a dead stop.

The previous day, high winds kept us from heading to honeyholes and we’d been forced to fish sheltered spots close to camp. During the night, however, the wind died down, and by dawn the lake was glassy calm. Despite assurances fishing would be hot, an hour of fairly fruitless casting had me thinking it might be another one of those days. This was when the big pike swallowed my lure.

Instinctively, I reared back and set the hook as hard as I could, promptly snapping the 14-pound-test mono. With the only Half-Wave I had with me hanging like a trophy from the pike’s jaw, the big fish sank slowly from sight.

Man, I thought, for sure it’s going to be one of those days! I had left my other Half-waves back at the lodge, for reasons which must have made sense at the time. I felt like kicking myself for such a poor judgement.

This was my second trip to Lake St. Joseph, a huge reservoir at the head of the Albany River. John Grace and Wendy Dell-Grace had invited my wife, Lil, and me to stay at their lodge for some rest, relaxation, and fishing. We needed a few days to get away from both the office and never-ending home chores. We’ve known John and Wendy for only a few years, but have become good friends. We hit it off right from the start, likely because we share a deep love of the land, local history, and, maybe more importantly, a slightly weird sense of humour.

John and Wendy have spent the last 14 years running the Old Post and Village. The lodge, a former Hudson Bay post they restored beautifully, is the biggest of only three fishing resorts on Lake St. Joseph, one of the largest lakes in northwestern Ontario. The lake is remote, yet accessible off Hwy. 599, and has a fabulous pike and walleye fishery.

Their love of the north, their strong sense of community (John is a counsillor for the City of Goderich during the off-season), and their knowledge of the fabulous fishery on Lake St. Joseph convinced John and Wendy their future lay in tourism. After purchasing the former Hudson Bay post, they’ve never looked back. Business went well right from the start. Word of the new lodge, on a lake where you could catch dozens of walleye each day and pike the size of fenceposts, spread quickly in U.S. fishing circles.

Soon, though, John began to worry that the fishing, especially for pike, was getting too popular. It seemed everyone who came to the lodge was catching and killing huge pike. John had seen other big-pike fisheries collapse from heavy fishing pressure, and he didn’t want it to happen to Lake St. Joseph. While huge, the lake is relatively clear and unproductive, and the growing season is short.

John, who doesn’t fish a lot, stays on top of the fishery by talking to his guests and guides at the end of each day. His worry meter red-zoned when pike catches in Soules Bay, one of the lodge’s most popular and reliable spots for lunkers, suddenly nosedived. He instructed his guides to stop fishing there.

He also began promoting selective harvest for pike and walleye and emphasizing better handling techniques. He did this by first carefully picking and training his guides. Then, he made it a point to give a pep talk to each new party of fishing guests as to the lodge’s limited-harvest fishing policies. This reinforced what they’d been told before they booked their trip, and from what I’ve seen, it really works. No one heads out grumbling over the fact they’re not going to be able to take home to mount what is likely going to be the biggest pike they’ve ever caught. This management strategy was initiated in the early 1990s, before the current catch-and-release mania had taken hold. By the time provincial fishing regulations changed and limited the possession of big St. Joseph pike to only one over 27.5 inches (70cm), the Old Post and Village was almost totally catch-and release.

Hoping it would result in multiple captures of the same fish, camp rules were established to try keeping survival rates of released fish high. For pike fishing, only single barbless trebles were allowed and guides were trained how to boat fish by hand. To minimize capture times and stress on pike, all fishing was done by casting. Long-line or deep-water trolling was discouraged.

Not all of John’s efforts have been in-house. He’s worked hard as a member of a Lake St. Joseph fisheries advisory committee, along with local anglers from Pickle Lake, other tourist camp operators on St. Joe, the Ministry of Natural Resources (MNR), and Osnaburgh First Nations. They came to an agreement known as the “Lake St. Joseph Accord.” It limited how much fisheries-related development could occur on the lake and allocated the fishery resource amongst the different user groups.

John’s younger brother, Phillip, was instrumental in developing the camp’s fish-handling policies. Phillip is about eight years younger than John, who’s 44, and has been associated with the Old Post and Village since day one. However, after helping build the cabins for the resort and doing a lot of other odd jobs, Philip took up the electrical trade in nearby Pickle Lake. The money may have been better, but he missed the fishing, so he went back to work for John, fishing and guiding guests. He now lives his passion.

Both brothers are dedicated to keeping the fishing as good as it can be. A couple of years ago, they initiated a project under the Community Fisheries Involvement Programme (CFIP) with the MNR. They wanted to know if their catch-and-release policy actually resulted in multiple catches of the same fish, the basis of their strategy to maintain, or even improve, the lake’s trophy pike fishery.

In 1999, Phillip and the guides began keeping detailed records of boated pike 30 inches (75cm) and longer. The MNR had shown Phillip how to attach streamer tags, so each day the length, girth, and location of every pike caught was recorded, then the fish was tagged and released.

“We’ve always thought catch-and-release worked, but we have never had any proof as to exactly how much it was helping,” Phillip told me, “Our initial results were quite a surprise. In the summer of 1999, we tagged 294 big pike. Of those, we only caught 6 of them twice, and all … in the same areas where they had been first caught.”

Unfortunately, in early summer of 2000 Phillip became ill and was unable to work. When he recovered, unseasonably high water made fishing tough and big pike were hard to find. The lodge tagged relatively few pike that summer, but the MNR tagged 112 caught in trap-nets that spring. Of those fish, anglers subsequently caught two. Six of the 1999 pike were also caught again and released.

In 2001, everything was a go again, and John and Phil are hoping the CFIP study will eventually shed light on the movements and abundance of big pike. Most of all, though, they hope to learn just how much catch-and-release is contributing to maintaining the trophy fishery of Lake St. Joseph. Preliminary results are promising, suggesting there are definitely some multiple captures, but it might take years to get a true picture of the benefit a catch-and-release strategy offers.

Lake St. Joseph is, without doubt, one of Ontario’s most fantastic big pike fisheries. With miles and miles of huge weedy bays, endless rocky spits and humps, and vast stretches of boulder strewn flats, it has some of the best fish-holding structure I’ve seen. Best of all, if you tire of the hunt for big ‘gators, a simple switch in tactics will soon have you fast into fat, tasty walleye.

As for me, after getting over the loss of my favourite lure, the day did improve. Under Phillip’s tutelage, I caught two other 39 inches (99 cm) – on a Five-of-Diamonds, plus more walleye than I could count. All in all, a pretty good day.

By Bruce Ranta