A Tale of Two Rental Boats – Quabbin Reservoir Report

The largest water body in Massachusetts opened to fishing this past weekend, and four members of the OTW Staff went there to experience one of the most unique fishing experiences in New England.

The Quabbin Reservoir is well known for three species—smallmouth bass, lake trout, and landlocked salmon. It is one of two waters in Massachusetts where the latter two species are available, which would make them the primary targets if the Quabbin didn’t grow some of the biggest smallmouths in the state.

Fishermen get in line for the Quabbin opener days before the event to make sure they are among the first to fish this water after the five-month closure. Everyone leaves the Quabbin Reservoir with a different story on opening day, and here are two of them.

Boat 1 – Kevin Blinkoff and Eddy Stahowiak
by Eddy Stahowiak

The four of us took our places in line at Gate 8 to the Quabbin Reservoir just before midnight.  After rigging our rods we took a hike toward the front gate to gauge our chances of securing boats.

For me, it’s hard to sleep the night before any planned fishing trip—especially when that sleep is in the bed of my truck wedged between the spare tire and a cooler.  This was no exception. Fortunately, 6 a.m. came quickly, the line began moving, and we claimed the thirteenth out of sixteen rental boats.

Kevin and I loaded the aluminum rental boat and motored off, heading north while Jimmy and Anthony went south.  We trolled the shoreline with crankbaits where the depth dropped off quickly, sometimes to more than 40 feet just a cast away from the shoreline. After an hour of trolling, Kevin’s rod doubled over and he began to fight what we both assumed was a lake trout. The fish stayed deep, until it came close to the boat when the biggest smallmouth either of us had ever seen thrashed on the surface. After a few photos, we returned the big bronzeback to the crystal clear reservoir, and we moved into a cove to avoid the building northeast winds.

In that cove, my first cast with a Smithwick Rogue drew a strike from one of the largest rainbow trout I’ve ever caught. We remained there for a few hours, watching the schools of rainbows follow and strike our lures on nearly every cast.

As the temperature climbed and the wind dropped off, the fishing slowed down, and I had a chance to take in the beauty of the Quabbin. With no houses in sight, no trash on the bottom, I felt like I was on a remote lake in Canada, not the drinking water supply for Massachusetts.

After about 9 hours of trolling, casting, jigging, and  infrequently checking in with our buddy boat, it was time to call it a day.  I was beat up from the lack of sleep and a thousand casts, but I can’t wait until next year!

Boat 2 – Anthony DeiCicchi and Jimmy Fee
by Jimmy Fee

When we took our place in the line for the Gate 8 rental boats at about 11:45 p.m., I saw a pair of porcupines—the first I’d ever seen in the wild. That would be the highlight of my fifth annual visit to the Quabbin Reservoir on opening week.

Anthony and I began this tradition back in 2011, when we lucked into a great day of jigging lake trout. Subsequent trips have also yielded lakers, which is why we decided to spend our day targeting landlocked salmon.

This week’s Massachusetts Fishing Forecast will undoubtedly note the phenomenal landlocked salmon bite on the Quabbin on April 16. At the pullout, boat after boat sported stringers of the silver fighters, the anglers abuzz with the incredible numbers of salmon they’d caught. But not our boat. We zigged when we should have zagged, lost an hour of prime time on a misguided mission to get shiners we never fished, and dropped the only salmon that struck our lures. Whether the blame for the lost fish falls to the angler or the net man has been a point of contention around the office this week. Did I play the fish too gingerly, and give it the opportunity the shake the hook or did Anthony, wielding the net like a flyswatter, knock the fish off the line. The truth, probably lies somewhere in-between.

We returned to the dock sunburnt and tired, defeated and fishless. We reunited with Eddy and Kevin, both looking exhausted but elated as they launched into the stories of their day’s catches—I especially liked the part about how Eddy took great care in netting Kevin’s smallmouth—and our moods quickly improved. Fishermen have short memories when it comes to bad trips, so as we packed up the cars and headed back to Falmouth, we formed a game plan to finally catch those Quabbin salmon on our 2017 trip.