The biggest problem of the day was the fish being steadfast adherents of social distancing.
No matter how much we focused periscope depth on where the fish should be on the sunny day on Monroe Lake in Bloomington, they snubbed us. Really, they were downright rude when it came to acknowledging our existence.
Just because we were trying to fool them into sacrificing their lives in the interest of mankind, the fish swam on imperiously, pretty much not even bothering to make an obscene gesture on the sonar.
Guide Kevin Hill, 55, who has been operating Wiper Sniper Charters for five years, has put more miles in on Monroe Lake than long-distance commuters to Louisville do on Interstate 65.
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He likes to think he knows where every rock bed, indeed, maybe every rock, is located under the surface. Hill kind of takes it personally when fish ignore him.
Most days of the week (he also leads trips on Patoka Lake) when he visits Monroe, he outsmarts the fish. The pontoon boat he steered was a sturdy vessel, and Hill moved us around to deep water and shallow water, 30-foot water and the occasional spot where you could lean over the side and see bottom.
The lake is populated with a decent variety of fish, from largemouth bass to channel catfish, from white crappie to walleye, from bluegill to hybrid stripers. I am not particular. I am happy to catch any and all of those species on any given day.
But Hill is basically a specialist. He gears his pursuit to stripers. Hybrid stripers are a mix between striped bass and white bass, sometimes called whiterock bass. In the vernacular, they are also called wipers.
Essentially the product of mixed marriages, hybrids are characterized by broken stripes on their bodies rather than more parallel ones. Hill likes hybrids because they are stronger than the average bass, and when they are hooked, they fight harder.
"You compare a 5-pound bass and a 5-pound striper and there’s no comparison," he said. "It’s way more aggressive, and it’s way stronger."
Not that I would know from personal experience. On this warm and pleasant day, the stripers were keeping to themselves. Wherever we traveled on the lake, they ducked us. It was a great escape to be on the water, a pretty day far from tall buildings and office buildings, freedom in the outdoors on a body of water that was not being ignored but was not crowded with other boaters, either.
It was basically a perfect day to be skimming the lake’s surface, lines and hooks trailing, sure to tempt the hybrids’ curiosity, sure to lure them close enough to bite.
Only they didn’t follow the rules. Their disinterest seemed unusual, especially in Hill’s book. The water was not churned up from a storm, nor was it that hot out.
Not long afterwards, Hill was engaged by a different crowd of anglers who may not have known a hybrid striper from a hybrid SUV. Only a couple at most of the six women from Indianapolis who signed on for a guided trip around Monroe had ever fished before.
They were good learners as Hill dispensed with advice and instruction. Hill practically giggles when he relays stories of having two or three strong fish biting at the same time, and this group had that kind of fun.
"The goal is to get two or three on at once," Hill said. "That’s a trip."
The fishing women took turns reeling in those battling hybrids as Hill made sure the fish stayed on and were hauled into the boat.
"I think one of them (the anglers) had been fishing before," Hill said. "You’ve just got to show them what to do."
The day’s take was about 10 fish, 10 hybrids quite a bit more active than they had been on my day on the lake.
"They had a blast," Hill said of the Indianapolis crowd. "We were kind of steady."
Now with the weather cooling off with the approach of autumn, Hill is expecting a drop in water temperatures into the 60s.
"It’s headed that way," he said.
When that happens, it should produce friskier fish more interested in the angler offerings.
It is not as if I have never been skunked before. Happened in different states while chasing different kinds of fish. Maybe a second time around, the hybrids will forget about virus protection.
"They were wearing the masks," Hill said of the original COVID-19 defense.
He is sure they won’t be that smart again.