Ice Fishing - Lake Erie

Ice Fishing-Lake Erie Earl Plato

Ice fishing anyone? Many of us old-timers remember frozen Lake Erie off Crystal Beach, the sleds, poles, the canvas windbreak, the ice auger (manual), dipping scoop, the tip-ups and minnow bait. Scrambling and trudging over the ice banks on to the smooth surface of frozen Lake Erie to a chosen spot (we hoped). Succulent perch was our goal. This mid-morning two sheepheads and an eel! Then as the southwest wind picked up we decided to moved to another site where the Everetts were pulling the perch in steadily. Not too close to their locations but close enough so that soon we had struck perch. Ten, twenty and by mid-afternoon with frozen face and other body parts numb we packed it in. Thirty- seven good-size yellow perch. Later that week a great meal at Grandpa Joe’s place. A pile of Elaine’s creamy cole slaw and crispy French fries on each plate - then - three huge deep-fried filets of perch. The Lake Erie effort was worth it - time and time again.
Ice fishing anyone in February with skidoos and power augers? Here’s a “freezer’s” poem I wrote back in the hey day of Lake Erie ice fishing.

THE DILEMMA OF AN OLD TIME ICE FISHERMAN - Earl Plato
Freezer devoid of succulent perch,
Money spent on Friday night fish fries,
Where once the family dined cheaply at home.
The week-end break from winter’s doldrums -
Ice fishing on the lake, eh.
Wooden fish sleigh with steel runners on the ice,
Energy expended to cross the hill of inshore ice,
The erected windbreak,
Chopping of the holes - too small -
“Make it larger!”
Tip-ups made ready - minnows hooked.
Uncle George - “Where’s the bottle?”
The little heater set up - the welcome warmth.
It’s a raw southwester - ruddy cheeks
On face and elsewhere.
First a mud puppy - “Throw it back!”
Then a double-header smelt.
Success! - perch after perch,
Until a frozen pile evolved.
Thirty nine for uncle - thirty six for me.
His bottle gone - a warm glow permeates
His blood.
It’s been a good day - a good mess of perch.
***
Not this year of 2002 -
Open waters in February!
Only unconscious New York Staters venture out.
“Uncle George, remember the stranded ones last year?”
George, not listening mumbles.
“Dirty shame! This year there won’t be many perch to freeze.”