Reelfoot Bluegills

          Teresa and I recently made a trip to Reelfoot Lake in Northwestern Tennessee. We’d been invited to come up and sample the fishing by Kyle Homra of Homra’s Guide Service.

          Kyle is a third generation guide on Reelfoot; he grew up with the lake literally in his backyard. The Homra family has been involved in commercial fishing and guiding for more than fifty years.

          As Kyle likes to say, he’s twenty-seven years old with fifty years of experience. In addition to their fishing trips, the Homra’s also offer some great waterfowl hunts in the fall. Teresa and I plan to go back this year to experience the duck hunting.  

This would be our first time fishing on Reelfoot. It’s a little different than most of the other lakes in Tennessee. Reelfoot is a natural lake and the average depth is only five feet.

          The lake was created by a huge earthquake and several large aftershocks that occurred between December 1811 and March 1812. There are very few details about the quake, but some experts claim it was the largest earthquake ever to occur on American soil.

          The hole that was left was filled by the nearby Mississippi River. It’s claimed that the Mississippi actually flowed backwards for three days while filling in the lake. All the timber and stumps from the existing forest were inundated by the water. Since then the cypress trees and other aquatic vegetation have taken hold, creating plenty of structure.   

          All that structure makes Reelfoot one of the best fisheries in the country, its catfish production is the third largest in the state of Tennessee. Because of the lake’s shallow depths and numerous stumps, you won’t see a lot of big boats. Water skiers and jet skis are non-existent. It’s pretty much a fisherman’s lake and aluminum boats are the rule. Slow going is recommended as there are quite a few speed bumps out there. Even those two-hundred year old stumps are still pretty solid.

The bird life is abundant. There was a crane rookery near one of our fishing locations. The squawking went on constantly from the steady stream of white egrets and blue herons flying back and forth caring for their nestlings and Reelfoot is famous for its wintertime eagle population.        

The nearby town of Samburg, Tennessee is a small community built right on the lakeshore. There are several resorts, motels, and restaurants that cater to fisherman and waterfowl hunters. The whole area reminded me of the bayou country of Louisiana. I suppose it was the big cypress trees and the laid back, friendly, relaxed atmosphere.  

          The crappie is the most sought-after fish in the springtime, but fishing for bluegill, catfish, and bass are also very popular. We were there to take part in the bluegill fishing.  

          We fished with twelve-foot ultra-light rods equipped with closed face spinning reels using ten pound test line. We were using crickets and mealworms for bait.

          The long ultra-light rods took a little getting used to, especially back under the trees, but when you got one of those big bluegills on the line it was a lot of fun. In some of the places where there was a lot of structure in the water, we used the rod like a jigging stick. The ten-pound test line was necessary because of the numerous snags. 

          It was a humid day with temperatures in the eighties. There was a slight breeze with intermittent clouds and sunshine. In the middle of the day we slipped into the shade of the many cypress trees that grow in and around the lake. We would slowly troll among them and fish from one likely looking spot to the next.  

          Kyle has a way of spotting bedding bluegills. He looks for signs of their spewing. “There’s one right there,” he’d say. We’d drop a line in on top of a few small bubbles floating on the surface and more times than not, there would be a fish down there. I guess those fifty years of experience crammed into his twenty-seven years really pay off.  

          That afternoon, Teresa was busy watching a blue heron flying by with a fish in its mouth when Kyle mentioned that her bobber was gone. She had a nice catfish on the line and it was a pretty good tussle on that ultra-light rod.  

          The bluegills were on bed, so we released all that we caught. In all, we boated about twenty-five nice fish. The largest was maybe fourteen ounces. We enjoyed a nice relaxed day of fishing with crickets and bobbers. If we’d been interested in keeping the fish, we would have had a nice mess for supper.

          We got back in around four that afternoon and we were ready to head for home until Kyle suggested some yo-yo fishing that night. Since we were already there and we didn’t have to be anywhere the next day, we jumped at the chance.

          Kyle went to get some bait and yo-yo’s while Teresa and I ventured into town to have supper. After a big catfish dinner and a pitcher of ice-water at a lake-side restaurant, we met back at the house around six that evening. Kyle’s brother, Jamil, joined our group for the yo-yo fishing.

A yo-yo, for those of you who don’t know, is a spring-loaded, metal device that holds several yards of fishing line. You tie it to a limb hanging over the lake with a baited hook dangling in the water. When a fish takes the bait, the yo-yo sets the hook and maintains pressure on the fish until you return to pick it up. It’s a new twist on old fashion limb-lining.  

We put out twenty-four yo-yo’s as the sun was setting, using crawfish and night-crawlers for bait. The majority of fish caught using yo-yo’s will be catfish. We didn’t have to wait long. As soon as we finished setting the last one, we went back to the first and we had a fish on.

Teresa got the honors of netting most of the fish as I was the cameraman. As I mentioned it had been a hot muggy day, the first really hot day of the year and the bugs were out in force that night. They have a bug on Reelfoot that Kyle calls a woolly. It’s smaller than a mayfly and there are millions of them. Thank goodness they don’t bite.

As the night went on, the bugs got worse and worse. It was pleasant out on the lake, but when we went into shore and turned on the light to get a fish, we were swarmed by the woollies. Teresa was trying to net another fish, swat bugs, and talk to the camera when she swallowed a couple of the pesky critters.  

“Wow, it’s a big one! I can’t see for these darn bugs…there all in my …ccaakk!!!...ccaacckkk!!!” Kyle was trying to help her with the fish. It was a nice channel cat of about four pounds. “Turn off that camera…ccaakk!!... I need some…ccaaakk!!!”  

Kyle re-baited the yo-yo and we retreated back to the lake. Teresa was in the back of the boat looking for her bottle of G2. “Find me something to drink…aaagghhh!!”   

After that, she decided to become the cameraman and I got to net the rest of the fish. In all, we caught about a dozen catfish averaging three to four pounds in three hours. A thunderstorm was rumbling off to the northwest when we called it a night around ten.  

We got home just after one a.m. Sunday morning, right before the thunderstorms hit Dickson. Teresa slept all the way home. I guess there’s something in woolies that makes you drowsy. 

If you would like to fish with Kyle Homra his number is 731-538-9846 or you can get his address from the Host Outfitters page on our website, www.splitrailoutdoors.com .