Lake St. Clair Bass Fishing Essentials
In this post, I'll answer some of the more important questions that will help you to be successful if you're just starting out fishing for smallmouth bass on Lake St Clair. I'll share some tidbits from fifty years of experience fishing the Lake and pass them on to you so you can have an exciting and rewarding trip, be it your first year or your fiftieth.
Lake St Clair has been called one of the top smallmouth bass sport fisheries in the world. The Lake has many qualities that put it in this category: plenty of fish, accessibility, proximity to major population centers, and easily navigable waters.
So here are some of the many questions that I've been asked over the years with regard to bass fishing on Lake St Clair.
Q: The Lake is so big! How am I going to figure out where to go?
A: Lake St Clair smallmouth movement follows a cycle based on sunlight and water temperature. This cycle repeats every year. Join one of the many Lake St Clair fishing forums to get a boatload of tips. I also recommend calling the Lakeshore Fishing Report Line every week (586-777-7008. It usually updates weekly). The main fishing action of the new season starts when the fish are in their pre-spawn phase. Boating anglers converge along the shoreline of the "mile roads" anywhere from the Selfridge DNR launch ramp at the foot of M59 all the way to the 11-mile road and even further south. This usually heats up starting in early May but is dependent on water temperature. As the fish complete their spawning cycle, they tend to scatter to the summer feeding grounds adjacent to channels in the Lake St Clair delta or along the many scattered weed beds at the breaks of shallow water flats. The fish will often chase baitfish up on the flats, and this type of fishing can be very productive in the fall.
Q: When is bass fishing season?
A: The Catch and Immediate Release season is open all year. Even though you can eat Smallmouth (more on that later), most anglers practice this method, and I strongly suggest it. The Possession Season (5 fish) always starts on the third Saturday in June, which is June 17 for 2023 and closes on December 31. Don't forget that the minimum possession size is 14" for Lake St Clair.
Q: What type of boat do you need to fish for bass?
A: The answer is simple. One that can take most of the conditions that Lake St Clair can throw at it. A very common misconception is that you need a "bass boat" to enjoy the same success as the tournament anglers. This is patently false. Some of the greatest bass anglers of Lake St Clair history had boats that you would typically associate with partying at Gull Island. They had twin V8s, heads, huge live wells, and lots of rod storage nooks and crannies. My dad guided for Smallmouth with a 28' custom-built Mayea Craft that was used specifically for bass fishing. On the other end of the spectrum, on lay-down flat days or in the sheltered bays and coves or among the St Clair flats, kayakers are just as adept at catching Smallmouth as any other boating angler on the Lake.
Q: Do I need an expensive fish finder to fish for bass?
A: Not required, but it comes in handy when looking for structure or cover. Early in the season, I use it to find new rock piles that are scattered along the Mile roads. Side scanning really does the trick for this. Of course, a GPS is indispensable to mark productive spots. Smallmouth bass exhibit site fidelity in that they will return to a certain structure year after year. Spots that my dad and uncles found and marked in the 1950s while guiding are still productive for me today. These are scattered all over the Lake and can be car, boat, and even airplane wrecks.
Q: What type of rod and reel do I need to bass fish?
A: I have over a dozen rods for bass fishing on Lake St. Clair, and the one thing they have in common is that they are all 7'. Most of them are bait casters, but I have spinning rigs for those who struggle with bait-casting reels. The rods are in the 6lb to 10lb class. I like a little more backbone than you might be accustomed to. The reason is that, quite often, a visitor in the form of a musky will show up and won't turn down the opportunity of a passing meal. They're fun on light tackle, even though bite-offs are common with the 8lb to 10lb test line that I use.
Q: What type of line should I use for bass fishing?
A: I use braid for my early pre-spawn fishing with tubes or swim bait. As the season moves into the summer, I switch to mono if I am using live bait. I like the stretch associated with mono, especially with a fast-action rod.
Q: What is the best live bait for bass fishing?
A: Shiners. Simple as that. As a kid, I spent evenings netting crayfish in the ditches and creeks back in the country for my dad, but that was a rarity and only done if shiners weren't available or there was a local tournament coming up. The bigger crayfish attracted bigger bass. No surprise there. Most of the tackle shops along the U.S. side of the Lake carry shiners in season.
Q: What artificial bait is best for bass fishing?
A: Pretty simple for Lake St Clair. Soft plastics are hard to beat. Tubes and swim baits 3" to 4" long are my go-to baits in the spring. Plastic worms work well for drop-shotting in the summer months.
Q: Can you fly fish for bass on Lake St. Clair?
A: Absolutely! The flats and sandbars surrounding Lake St. Clair offer excellent fly fishing for smallmouth bass. The most popular setup is a six or 7-weight rod paired with a comparable reel. I happen to carry an eight-weight St Croix on board. It's a size bigger than most bass fly fishers use, but I like it when I fish in the Florida Keys for bonefish, so it's a dual-use setup for me. My go-to fly for Smallmouth is a Clouser minnow since it imitates a shiner, one of the Smallmouth's top food sources in the Lake.
Q: What is the best water temperature to fish for bass?
A: There are tons of data and lots of material written about this. I recommend reading the In-Fisherman Handbook of Strategies series for Smallmouth to get a really good handle on this topic. Lake St Clair pretty much follows the generic Great Lakes cycle. Keep in mind that relating water temps to calendar months and days can be challenging, especially in the spring due to the mild winters of late and the associated lack of ice cover.
Q: Is smallmouth bass good to eat?
A: It's not my favorite. It's hard to beat walleye and perch for table fare. With that said, I recall guiding an annual tournament at a local sportsmen's club, and the "Champions Dinner" afterward featured some of that day's catch. A local chef from a restaurant in Detroit was invited to prepare the meal, and I recall him coming into the fish house as I was cleaning fish. He insisted that I cut out the mud line and slice each filet on both sides to very near the same size. I have to admit that was the best bass meal that I'd ever eaten. (No slight meant to my mom or grandma, who probably cooked more bass than what most local anglers have caught on Lake St Clair.)
Q: What is the impact of weather on bass fishing?
A: While sunlight plays a big part since bass are mainly sight feeders during the day, you should learn to read the barometer forecast for the coming week. The smallmouth bite almost always turns on at signs of an impending weather change, and it is driven by falling barometric pressure. This is, of course, a generality. I've caught fish during the "dog days" of summer while fighting off bugs on a dead calm day with a big high-pressure system lurking around the Great Lakes. Once a front passes and the baro starts to rise, the smallmouth bite can shut down for a day or so, but if you are persistent, you can usually find some feeders somewhere.
In conclusion, I hope that helps answer some of the questions that you might have if you're just starting out bass fishing Lake St Clair. Feel free to shoot me an email at [email protected] if you have a more specific question or would like to book a charter.
A Fishing Story by Capt. Brian Bowers
It's Not Always About the Numbers
The trees lining the freeway bowed in submission to a stiff western breeze, a sure indication of two to three-foot swells on Lake St Clair. Today would be a good day to stay ashore. During the forty-minute drive out to the lake, my thoughts were of getting the boat spruced up, considering it was left in a pretty cruddy condition after the last outing. Seated alongside me was an impressive array of chemical weapons.
At the conclusion of the drive, I greeted my mom in the house that I grew up in, and we chatted about family, friends, and other topics close to the heart and soul. Occasionally, I'd take a sideways glance out the window, anxious to get started on my cleaning mission while suppressing thoughts of going fishing. In time, the topic of weather came up, as it always does here. Living on the lake will tune you into nature's rhythms more so than almost anywhere else. Today, it looked deceiving. The wind was blowing steadily out of the west with waters calm inside, but a mile or so out was a display of churning white-capped waves. They weren't the big rollers that could come crashing in at the conclusion of their 25-mile journey from the southwest, but formidable nonetheless in a small bay boat.
In time, I grabbed my cleaning supplies from the car and headed out to the boathouse, ready for battle. As I walked through the door, I immediately noticed a bobbing plastic garbage can that my uncle had left for me in the boat. Was it possible that some bait might still be alive after several days in the shallow oxygen-depleted water? Oh well, this was not a day to fish.
After an hour or so of elbow grease, I had the white gel coat topside shining brightly. It was now after 7:00 pm, but I wasn't ready to head home yet. I glanced out at the bay; it was still calm inside but rough outside. Curious, I walked over, yanked the plastic can out of the water, released the neatly fastened bungee straps, and popped the top. Inside was a mess of dead shiners. Hold on, is that some wiggling in there? I fished out 7 or 8 remaining live ones and transferred them to another bucket of lake water. Closer inspection revealed they weren't long for this world. It would sure be a shame to waste them. Again, I glanced out into the bay, and there wasn't a boat in sight. The lake is mine if I want it.
Ten minutes have gone by, and I'm nudging the Whaler up on the plane. I'm really not ready for this. After hastily grabbing a rod from the boathouse rack, I carefully placed the shiners into the live well and headed out. When I was outside the protection of the leeward side of the Point, I throttled back, trying to find a comfortable ride with the waves on the beam. Under these conditions, it's a twenty-minute ride to my first spot, accompanied by the spray pelting my right side. Predictably, though, my blood pressure drops and any remaining tension evaporates as I go on mental autopilot. I've been making this trip across the bay for over fifty years now.
Timing the swells, I settled the boat into a rhythm by continuously working the throttle. I'm headed for a spot that just might hold fish this late in the season. It's late September, and the water temp is starting to take its annual dive, so I'm not exactly brimming with confidence that I'll get a hookup.
Fishing is in my blood. My dad and three uncles were all smallmouth bass guides at some time during their lives. One of them has (arguably, of course) been called the most famous smallmouth bass guide on the Lake, with a former U.S. President as one of his clients. He occasionally guided Herbert Hoover (aptly named "The Fishing President") for bonefish and permits in the areas surrounding Key Largo. So it was that I grew up in the shadow of these great fishermen, cleaning fish and washing boats for summer spending money. Needless to say, some of their experience and knowledge had rubbed off on me.
The alarm on the GPS goes off, telling me I'm a tenth of a mile from my first spot. I see one dedicated Muskie troller working the nearby break. That's it. Not unusual, though, as the lake seems more and more becoming a fair-weather boating spot. This late in the year, most of the boats disappear, and Lake St Clair becomes an introverted bass fisherman's paradise.
With the line baited and in the water, I make three passes alongside the first hot spot. Nothing. It's tough holding position with the wind. The Whaler likes to weather helm, and you have to stay ahead of it on a windy day like today to put the bait where the fish likely are. No luck. Time to pick up, hit the gas, and try elsewhere.
Spot two. After a few unsuccessful minutes, I'm ready to move again. This sounds like impatience, but one thing I've learned is that you must move fast and often to cover a lot of ground in order to find fish on the bite. So now I'm down to four shiners. Since I wasn't going fishing, my tackle bag sits in the basement at home, and I'm stuck with what's in the live well. I reset the GPS for one last try and inch the throttle forward. Three strikes, and I'm out of there on a day like today. Five minutes later, the GPS warbles again, and I bring her down to idle. The final hot spot of the day. I'm at a top-secret place where I've never seen anyone else fish except, of course, those with the same last name as mine.
On the first pass, I brought in a big perch, which on any other day would be a keeper. Back in it goes. With only three bait left, I didn't feel much like cleaning, just a couple of perch. Second pass, ditto. Another nice one. This did not seem good. It's a general rule of thumb that if the perch is thick in here, then the bass is probably absent. Another hit, but this time no hookup, so I checked the bait. Still on, but not looking good. That guy went to one of the terns that just showed up. With the last minnow on, the live well is now empty. I tossed the freshly baited hook astern while letting the wind and waves swing the bow around. I pressed the spool release on the Ambassadeur 5500 and let the line play out as I lined up for another pass. The wind had pushed the boat a bit off course, so I quickly changed rod hands to move to the right side of the helm seat and put the line on the starboard side. I hadn't locked the spool down yet when the first hit came. It was that hard whap kind of strike, feeling like the fish went after the sinker as they sometimes do. I quickly took my thumb off the spool, waited for a second, and then turned the crank with my left hand to lock it down. By the time my left hand was back on the wheel, the fish struck again. This time it was on.
It's amazing how soon you can judge a potential catch. I knew right away it was a nice fish. It had that good solid rod bending pull you get when the big ones head for the bottom. There's nothing like watching the aerobatics of a dancing smallmouth, but experience has shown me that the big ones tend to use their amazing strength below the waterline.
This fellow was tenacious. I had to move side to side, sweeping the 7' St Croix twice around the stern as the fish raced under the boat. The drag released once, twice, then a third time before I finally coaxed the bronze back to the surface. As it nestled alongside the hull, I recognized the three qualities that big smallmouths all share in the 6th Great Lake: dark, fat, and scarred, as evidenced by the telltale sign of a lamprey feeding near a gill cover. Even so, the big fish appeared none the worse for wear after having endured the parasitic passenger and my #4 Eagle Claw.
It was a beautiful fish. The dark ones have a stunning contrast as opposed to their lighter kin that spends so much time over sand. I was fishing a thick bed of cabbage that hid a wreck from decades past. It was one of the spots that I had known about since I was a kid, having been shown its location on a rare weekend summer day when Dad didn't have his main client out on a charter.
Hefting it out of the water, I turned the fish on its back, quieting it down before lipping it to gauge the weight. The bass was every bit of 5lb and more, probably a female. There are not a trophy fish, but I didn't really care. There was something very special about this fish. Without pause, I gently removed the hook and pulled her through the water a few times, speeding the revival. Soon, it was full of gumption, and I watched as she sped for the bottom and the safety of the cover.
As I plopped back down on the helm seat, I suddenly became deeply aware of my surroundings. The waves broke across the stern in a way that was not at all threatening, even though an occasional burst of spray reached the center console and wet my face. The emotion that I was now experiencing was one that had roots going back to the earliest of times. This one fish had cast a spell over me, imparting a sense of calm and belonging that was close to a spiritual feeling. I thought about man, and nature and how they are bound so tightly, even though, at times, the relationship is thoroughly suppressed, given the numerous distractions of the modern world.
I looked to the west and observed an image that would have made for a great postcard. The setting sun, framed by mares' tails, cast a red glow over the lake. There would indeed be lofty sails again tomorrow. It was a sensory delight with the spectacular sky, the cool water lightly coating my face, the low moan of the wind, and the familiar smell of fish on my fingers as I brushed remnants of the last bit of spray from under my eyes. To say that this short but sweet fishing trip was a success did not do it justice. One fish and one profound experience. No, it's truly not always about the numbers.
Cool Facts About Lake St. Clair
If you Google “the sixth Great Lake,” you may be in for a surprise. The first page of your results is probably lined with those of a musical group with the same name. (Hmm, I need to check them out.) When you finally get to links that lead you to actual bodies of water, you’ll see several candidates. There is Georgian Bay, Lake Nipigon, Lake Champlain, surrounding Great Lakes groundwater, and finally, Lake St. Clair. They all get a shout-out for candidates to join the family of the most notable geographic features in North America. Who doesn’t recognize the aerial view of the mitten state surrounded by the largest basin of fresh water in the world? I can tell you this. As a mariner, when I’m out on Lake St Clair, I’m bound by the same navigational rules and licensing as the big five Great Lakes. Lake St Clair is a connecting waterway of the Great Lakes and thus falls into the jurisdiction of the U.S. Coast Guard. To me, that puts Lake St Clair as a leading candidate as the “Sixth Great Lake. Regardless of the competition and their advocates, here are some Lake St Clair fun facts.
- Michigan’s environmental agency – EGLE, calls it “The Heart of the Great Lakes.”
- It is categorized as a Mesotrophic type lake and was created by retreating glaciers 14,000 years ago.
- It sports 420 square miles of surface area.
- It’s home to one of the largest sports fisheries in the world.
- I can make the 27-mile run across the lake from my slip in the northern reaches of Anchor Bay to the mouth of the Belle River in Canada and only occasionally see depths over 20 feet. The average depth is 11 feet.
- Its name comes from the landing of French explorer Robert de la Salle on the Catholic feast day of St Clare.
- The “Big Four” of popular Lake St Clair angling targets are Muskellunge, Walleye, Bass (both smallmouth and largemouth), and Perch. There’s a host of others waiting to challenge your fishing skills, including, but not limited to, Northern Pike, Catfish, Salmon (in the adjoining channels and rivers), plus several panfish species that include Bluegill and Crappie.
- If you have a naturalist bent, it’s a bird watchers paradise. The main body of water and the St Clair Delta is home to scores of resident and migratory species. If you do book one of my charters, there’s a good chance you’ll spot several of the local bird species.
The lake does suffer from multiple personality disorders, characterized by switching to alternative identities depending on varying weather conditions throughout the four seasons. Having lived on the lake for many years, I witnessed every one of those firsthand. From losing part of our boathouse and one of the boats inside to a violent spring storm, to winter ice so flat and sheen that you could shoot a hockey puck aimed at Canada and kiss it goodbye as it left the county never to be seen again. That said, the summer months bring more docile conditions, disrupted only by the occasional blowout of the southwest. And, of course, the always challenging boat wakes that crisscross Anchor Bay on the weekends.
Unfortunately, there are several ecological challenges that the lake faces. These range from invasive species to algae blooms to unwanted bacteria from sewage overflows. The lake is ever under onslaught from these constant threats, yet it continues to showcase its beauty, diversity, and sport fishing thrills. Whenever you’re out there, make sure to appreciate this Michigan gem and be a good steward by practicing clean and responsible boating and fishing practices to help keep up its luster.