I’m not a stranger to kayaking. I paddled along the eastern shore of Newfoundland for nine days, navigated down the Abitibi River and explored bits and pieces of Georgian Bay—all with a double blade.
However, I’ve always preferred canoeing.
This doesn’t mean I judge how people travel while out in the wilderness. I don’t think the ATV is Lucifer’s chariot, or backpacking is just one very long portage, and I don’t believe kayakers look like dogs rubbing their butts across the carpet floor. In fact, I just spent a few days kayak tripping and bass fishing in a chain of lakes in the semi-wilds of my neighboring provincial park. It wasn’t so bad.
The Happy Camper Ditches Trusty Canoe to Try Kayak Fishing
At first, I found the kayak confining, awkward and uncomfortable. Where was I to put my blue tripping barrel? I wanted to be back in a canoe again. I’ve been tossing a lure over canoe gunwales for years. I’ve gotten used to lots of space in front of me to spread out my tackle—or let loose a slimy, slithering fish where it won’t escape.
The first fish I caught in my kayak—a good three-pound largemouth—ended up wiggling and squirming uncontrollably into my lap. The wild fish slipped into the cockpit and raised hell around my ankles.
Soon, I adapted. I took fish off the hook beside the boat. I created a storage system for my tackle on top of the deck. I was far more organized—the process of casting and reeling in my catch was more methodical and the amount of fish slime on my lap, and in the boat, was greatly reduced.
It turns out, kayaking has its advantages
The biggest surprise for me was the ability to fish more effectively. Apart from being more orderly, I was also able to catch more fish, simply because I could cover more water to hit possible hotspots. The kayak is quick and maneuverable, and I was given the freedom to paddle to various weed beds and rock shoals. I was far faster than I would have been soloing a canoe all over the lake.
Being lower in the water was also an advantage. It felt like I was closer to the fish, more connected to the water. Rather than sitting on a canoe seat, perched above and gawking down on the surface, I was closer to eye level and part of their environment.
Three days in a kayak, tossing lures and reeling in countless bass, I no longer compared kayakers to dogs with itchy back ends. Paddling a kayak reminded me that change is good. Life shouldn’t be about being comfortable with the familiar—especially if you want to catch more fish.
Kevin Callan is the author of 16 books celebrating canoeing and outdoor life. He’s a regular contributor to Paddling Magazine.
From old-school canoeist to The Happy Kayaker. | Feature illustration: Lorenzo Del Bianco
