Spend the Day Ice Fishing in Green Bay

My son Scott and I were quietly waiting in the warm darkness of an ice fishing shanty; each dangling fishing lures deep into the water below a foot-thick layer of midwinter ice. 

A sonar fish finder sent sound waves through the water below, and we were able to watch as the small orange arcs that marked individual fish moved around about thirty feet down. 

Suddenly, a flicker of orange appeared right where Scott’s silvery spoon lure was, and an instant later, the rod tip of his special miniaturized ice-fishing rod tipped down, showing he had a bite, or a “rip,” as ice fishing fans call it. 

“He’s got it!” said Matthew, the guide whose setup this was and who had brought us out here to get after the fish. “Set the hook and start reeling him up.” 

I had been an avid ice-fishing enthusiast for a while, but this was the first time for Scott, who is ten. I thought it was high time he experienced the quiet thrill of probing icy water in the dead of winter – for the uninitiated, the least likely time for catching fish. But that just makes it sweeter when you succeed. 

Not only that, but my wife Amy and daughter Laura were in a fishing shelter nearby, also dangling lines through augered holes into the deep darkness below.

Scott reeled his fish up to the auger hole, which Matthew was keeping clear of ice and slush with a special ice-ladle. 

“Cool,” Scott exclaimed as the walleye poked its head into view, and Matthew grabbed and pulled it, still flipping and flopping out of the hole. Donning reinforced gloves, (walleye have sharp teeth!), he thumbed it up for us to admire. Its green scales glistened in the subdued light of the fishing shanty. 

“It’s a good one,” he said. “Gonna go three pounds at least. Not bad for your first fish.” 

Scott glowed with happiness, and I winked at him. 

“Let’s go again!” he cried, and Matthew rigged up his silvery metal lure to drop back down into the water. 

I was excited for him, but just then, my own rod tip bowed, and I spent the next few minutes reeling my own fighting fish up from the icy depths. 

By the time the sun was sliding down to the western horizon, we had caught our share of fish, keeping some and returning others to their cold and watery home. 

We were cold, but didn’t mind a bit. 

Our daughter, Laura, summed up the family's enjoyment of the frozen afternoon. “I never knew you could feel so cold and so warm at the same time,” she said, hugging her mom. We knew we’d be back next winter.