The Kayak Effect
Posted by Pete Robbins on Aug 31st 2020
I’ll start with this: If you prefer to fish out in the middle of Erie or St. Clair amidst six-footers, you can probably skip this blog.
Second point: While I don’t own a kayak, I’ve got nothing against them. To be clear, their impact on the fishing industry in recent years has been largely positive – giving many new anglers access to the sport and increasing or rekindling the interest of others. There’s no doubt that they’ve boosted the industry as a whole.
At the same time, they’ve changed the way many of us fish. I thought about this a few weeks ago as a friend and I went out chasing snakeheads on the Potomac. He wanted to hit a couple of small creeks right by the launch. Ten years ago, there might’ve been a bass boat in one or the other. These days, because they’re so accessible to the increasingly popular cartoppable boats, we could fully expect to have others in there with us. Indeed, we launched just before daybreak and arrived in the first creek to find an early-rising bass boat, plus three ‘yaks.
Once again, they had every right to be there, and as I’ve written before, in some instances the kayaks are much more effective tools for extracting fish than my big glass rocket, but it’s changed the game. Not only do they get there first but unlike our bassboating brethren who usually run and gun, they tend to camp out in an area for a long period of time.
I’m sure that’s not just on the Potomac. If you’re trying to get into any out-of-the-way hidey-hole around the country, especially if it’s only big enough for one boat, it’s something you have to consider. After you’ve jumped two beaver dams, a sand bar and idled 500 yards through muck and mud to get to your sweet spot, you can now fully expect to find someone who dropped their kayak in just 50 feet away.
It’s not good, it’s not bad, it’s just another factor to consider – like weather, fishing pressure, wind, and – this being 2020 – plagues.
