“Gentlemen and ladies, I want to stress to you that when you fish Lake St. Joseph, there are MNR rules and there are John Grace rules.”

With that statement, John, proprietor of the Old Post and Village, succeeded in getting my attention.

In addition to being an outdoor writer, I’m a biologist with the Ministry of Natural Resources. And, I was sure to be at least particularly blamed for the implementation of size limits for walleye and pike on the lake. Knowing what some people thought of size limits, I felt more than a tad squeamish. I recalled MNR gossip about John being a bit “off the wall” and having a thing about the MNR. My stomach churned.

“First, with respect to walleye, the MNR says you can have only one bigger than 50 centimetres. That’s a little over 19 inches. I agree with that rule,” John continued.

I looked for reaction from the gang of anglers, but could detect nary a wince or blink of an eye. John hadn’t finished though. It was obvious he was leading to something big.

“The MNR says you can keep one northern greater than 70 centimetres (27.6 inches). I don’t agree!”

I gasped. By now John was getting excited. I wanted to leave. I began to sweat.

John fixed his gaze on me. “No one,” he said, “for any reason, keeps any northern greater than 70 centimetres. And no one even fishes for northern without barbless hooks. That’s not what the MNR says, that’s what John Grace says! Those are the rules! Any questions?”

Obviously, John’s other guests unlike Lil and I, had heard the story before. There wasn’t a peep of discontent. This made me feel better, and I got up and poured another cup of coffee. Ten minutes later, I could hardly wait to get out on the lake.

Over the next few days, fishing was everything I’d hoped for. We caught dozens of walleye, the largest 7 pounds (2.8 kg), and a half-dozen pike between 12 and 17 pounds (5 to 7 kg). We lost even bigger pike, mostly due to our bad luck, but other lodge guests managed to exceed the magic 20-pound-plus mark (8 kg).

One of the most striking features of Lake St. Joseph, besides its wilderness setting, are the miles and miles of classic walleye and pike structure. We caught walleye on shallow mud flats, out from sandy beaches, in deep holes, on dropoffs, and at all depths adjacent to rubble shores and shoals. Similarly, pike were everywhere, although the lunkers were near big cabbage beds, especially where deep water was nearby.

On our first day we caught walleye early in the morning in a shallow bay with sparse weeds. After an hour or so, our little flotilla of three boats moved to a deeper spot by a sandy, cobbled shoreline. We nailed more fish, including one over six pounds (2.75 kg). Then, before a scrumptious shore lunch of freshly caught walleye, onions, and wild rice, we had hot action by an offshore reef. Afternoon found us continuing to hammer more walleye wherever we went. The highlight for me came at about 4:30 p.m., when I hooked one weighing more than seven pounds (3.2 kg) in 40 feet (13 m) of water off the top of a small hump. Although we didn’t try too hard for pike, a few we boated easily toppled 10 pounds (4.5 kg).

As the week wore on, the pattern continued. Hammer walleye all morning, picking up the odd big pike here and there. When we did go specifically for pike, we fished weedbeds near deep water. In one, two of us caught and released seven pike between 12 and 17 pounds (5 to 8 kg) in about an hour, and lost several more. All of them took spoons or big bucktail spinners. Effective spoons included large Daredevils, Five of Diamonds, and Lucky Strike Half-Waves. Every big pike I saw caught was boated without a net, measured, photographed, and carefully released. We caught most of the walleye on 3/8- and 1/2-ounce round lead-head jigs, tipped with either white, yellow, or chartreuse twister tails. White seemed to be the hottest body colour, pink caught my biggest walleye, a 7-pounder (3kg) on a 3/8-ounce tube jig, rigged with 3-inch (7.6 cm) pumpkinseed Berkley Power Tube.

Although I was having fantastic success with jigs, I couldn’t resist flipping out a Shad Rap. To my delight, in the next 10 minutes I took a half-dozen more walleye off the same reef. I had to admit, though, hook removal was much easier with a single-hooked jig, and soon I was back to lead and plastic.

All of the big walleye, as well as a pile of smaller ones, were also released. Most of the fish we ate were consumed during scrumptious shore lunches, which were a relaxing break and a chance to explore remote beaches.

There, more often then not, we found fresh tracks of elusive woodland caribou, which seemed to be more abundant than moose. We also encountered tracks of a mother bear with cubs, but never actually saw any of these big mammals.

Despite the ease of locating fish, the lake is intimidating. The same characteristics that make great fish structure also make the lake a navigational nightmare. One area we had to navigate two days in a row was appropriately called Boulder City.

What makes getting about even more dangerous is the constantly fluctuating water level. Lake St. Joseph’s water level is controlled by dams on the east outlets, where it flows into the Albany River, as well as to the west, where it drains to Lac Seul and the English River system. So a guide is definitely worth while. According to Mike Willems, our guide, the water level during the last half-dozen summers or so had never been the same from one year to the next.

Fluctuating water levels have done more than just take a toll on outboard props and bottom ends. According to elders at Osnaburgh, the lake used to hold a good lake trout population in its deeper holes. No lakers have been caught for years, though with the most likely culprit being winter hydro draw-downs exposing and killing eggs on spawning shoals.

Lake St. Joseph’s future looks bright, in no small part because of concerned people like John Grace. He, along with the other tourist operators on the lake, the MNR, and natives at Osnaburgh, have worked together to come up with a lake management agreement. It seems to be working.

Lake St. Joseph is accessible by vehicle via paved Hwy. 599, which goes north from the TransCanada at Ignance. There’s a public boat ramp at the east end of the lake, about a mile (1.6 km) west of the highway. From there a 10-minute boat ride takes you to either the Old Post and Village or Camp Lake St. Joseph. Outpost camps are best accessed with a float plane. There are no maintained campgrounds on the lake, but hundreds of fine potential spots on beautiful sandy beaches. But remember, the lake can be treacherous, so use caution if boating it on your own.

Lake St. Joseph is a wonderful place in the wilds of northern Ontario. After your first visit, you’ll want to return again and again.

By Bruce Ranta
Ontario Out Of Doors