How Do Gamefish React to Fishing Lures

 

What do fish do when they see a shiny lure or bait? Do they strike immediately, or do they view it with suspicion? As a lifelong fisherman, Peter Sohnle, of Milwaukee wanted to find out. He modified GoPro cameras into special housings which he attached to his fishing lines just a few feet from the lure and began trolling lakes in Wisconsin to see what he could learn about fish behavior.  

His website, The Fish Watcher, is a collection of fascinating underwater videos showing how fish relate to a variety of presentations. Peter's website also includes his own one-of-a-kind research findings in which he tries to quantify which species are the most curious, which ones eagerly follow and strike lures, and what depths and angles seem to be the most productive. 

I found his research and videos to be fascinating because they give us a glimpse into the underwater world of fishes and keenly identify many interesting observations. I'd also add that his work demonstrates how little we really understand about what motivates fish. After watching the videos, you'll undoubtedly find you have many questions about how to catch fish that you've never thought of. 

Peter's continued research into this area will only become clearer as he collects more data. There's so much we're still learning about the behavior of our native freshwater fish, but Peter's investigation into how fish relate to lures is both interesting and informative. 

Overcoming Obstacles: Why Photographing Fish in Their Natural Habitat Isn't as Easy as it Looks

Largemouth Bass (c)Engbretson Underwater Photography

I'm often asked what the biggest challenge is in taking underwater fish pictures.  There are quite a few obstacles and many things that have to be right to be able to get a good picture.  First, the water has to be clear, which is actually a greater challenge than you might think.  Freshwater lakes are typically pretty crummy so finding lakes that have the necessary clarity is an ongoing process.  I usually won't even look at a lake if the clarity isn't at least 18 feet.  Water clarity can change from week to week and season to season too, so even though I have my favorite lakes, they’re not always clear enough to work in.  Everything starts with water clarity and if you don’t have that, nothing else matters.  It’s always a challenge to find clear water.

Once I find a clear lake, I have to find fish.  Next, I have to find fish of desirable size.  This is easier said than done too.  It's always a problem especially these days when it seems like there’s fewer and fewer really nice fish available.  If I do find a lake that’s clear and it does have a few good fish, another challenge is getting close enough to photograph them.  I like to be 2 or 3 feet away.  Any further and I won’t take a picture at all.  Fish often times have a problem with a diver being that close, so it requires patience to even get close enough to think about composing a picture.  But once I have clear water, good fish, and get close enough to photograph them, I still have to make the shot.  So even if everything else is right, sometimes I blow it all on the final step because I was moving, or the composition is bad or I forgot to turn on the strobe, etc.….

A lot goes wrong.  Sometimes I feel like it’s truly a miracle to get any good pictures at all because so many things that I can’t control have to be right all at the same time. But as I always say, "If it were easy, everyone would be doing this".

Photographing Walleyes in Their Natural Habitat

 

It's been my experience that photographing walleyes underwater in their natural habitat can be either ridiculously easy or extremely difficult.  I'm convinced that there's a lot of luck involved.  As most fishermen can attest to, even finding walleyes in a lake can be a tough assignment.  Some fish are especially sensitive to air bubbles from divers, and walleyes are one of these species that seem troubled by the unusual sound.  They will usually move away quickly when they hear the sounds of a diver's air bubbles streaming to the surface.   Other times, I've found walleye to be completely at ease with my approach, my bubbles, and my general presence.  At these times I'm able to easily take close-up pictures with my cameras just inches from the fish.  I've spent a great deal of time analyzing the various factors and conditions that sometimes make photographing walleye easy and sometimes make it impossible.

After 27 years of encountering walleye underwater, I still don't have a definitive answer.   One theory I have is that if the fish feels secure, a close approach is possible.  If there are predators nearby, a lot of recreational watercraft traffic, or any other kind of perceived threat or disturbance, they will be anxious, nervous, and "edgy".  When the lake is quiet and they feel secure near a piece of cover, they seem to be more relaxed and at ease.  I think it all has to do with a sense of safety.  Fishermen believe walleyes always prefer deep water and avoid light because of their sensitive eyes.  I don't think that's necessarily true, or the real reason why walleye seem to seek out deeper, darker water.  On some of the quieter lakes I visit, they can be found in very shallow, brightly sunlit water close to shore.  On busier lakes, they almost always seem to be in the deeper stretches.  It could be that the perceived threat to their safety has more to do with locations walleyes are found than depth or brightness of the sun.

I work with many fishing magazines and exceptional walleye images are seemingly always in demand.  Consequently, I've spent a great deal of time learning about walleyes and their behavior to gain a better understanding of how to best find and approach them to take their pictures. Certainly, being in the water with the fish gives you a glimpse of their "real" behavior-a snapshot few people ever see.  Correctly interpreting what you observe is another matter and is the beginning of understanding and wisdom.

Like all animals, walleyes have many secrets and as we begin to learn more about their endlessly fascinating lives, we'll be able to appreciate them more and more for their inherent beauty and magnificence.  I know I do. 

Why Do-It-Yourself Artificial Fish Habitat Fails:

Fishiding Artificial Fish Habitat is unique because of its size, complexity, and the protection it provides juvenile fish.

Constructing a conglomeration of rubber tubing, plastic barrels, and old hose, throwing it into the lake and calling it fish habitat because we saw a bass next to it, is like putting a cardboard box on the street corner and calling it “housing” when a homeless person takes refuge in it. Most DIY fish habitat is as much fish habitat as a plastic tarp strung between two shopping carts is “a house” to a homeless person.

Look around at your own home. Why is it comfortable? Why do you like it? Look past the man cave you’ve built in the basement, the expensive wall-to-wall carpeting, and the refrigerator with the built-in ice-cube dispenser. What makes your house useful and practical is its utilitarian functionality.

The insulation keeps you warm in the winter. The roof keeps the rain out. There’s a dark bedroom to sleep in at night. The doors and windows all have locks that provide you with safety and security. Your pantry is stocked with food and you have a kitchen to prepare it. Your home functions in a way that addresses all your family’s needs in a utilitarian way.

By and large, DIY artificial fish habitat doesn’t do anything close to that. To be comparable, artificial fish habitat needs to be large to accommodate many fish. (You wouldn’t want to live in a one-bedroom bungalow with a family of six would you?) It needs to provide a refuge for young fish the same way your children have their bedrooms where they can be away from grown-ups while hanging out with their friends. There needs to be on-site food so you’re not driving to McDonald’s every single time you want a snack. Size, security, protection, privacy, and food are just some of the important aspects of any home that we would never compromise on in our dwellings yet seemingly never consider when constructing habitat for fish. Instead, we create the equivalent of tent cities in the most impoverished part of town and congratulate ourselves when homeless people congregate there to get out of the rain. That’s not a solution to the homeless problem any more than lashing rubber hoses to cinder blocks is to solving the lack of fish habitat.

What’s needed in both scenarios is genuine housing/habitat for both impoverished people and fish.

When looking at the wide variety of homemade so-called fish habitat, one thing seems to be evident. Most well-intentioned builders don’t seem to know exactly what fish need and the poverty of their designs betray this fact. Bad designs continue to be copied, while far superior ones are ignored. This is because so few of us can tell the difference between good designs and poor ones. This failure is epidemic but also understandable. Fish live in a separate world largely invisible to us. We rarely glimpse them in their natural habitat and have little idea of how they live or how they spend their time. Our only interaction is when we hoist them into the boat on the end of our fishing lines. Occasionally we notice that fishing under the neighbor’s dock or next to that old Cyprus tree stump seem to be good spots, but we’re completely in the dark about why. We often leap to the false conclusion that any structure in the water is a fish’s home and any solid piece of material we find in the back of our garage could work just as well. Do it yourselfers are thwarted not only by their lack of understanding of fish but also by what materials might currently be available in their sheds and garages. I think this explains why we see so many awful constructions.

To design and construct authentic fish habitats and not merely dilapidated, makeshift shelters of the kind we might see on urban streets, we need to think backward. We need to think first about function over form. Utility over availability. We need our designs to meet the specific needs of fish. We can look to natural habitats for guidance. Natural habitat has a myriad of desirable characteristics but for this discussion, we can single out the three most often violated elements that any proposed artificially constructed fish habitat must have. The first is size. Is our construction large enough to accommodate a community of fishes? The second is protection. Are there tight spaces, crevices, alleys, pockets, holes, depressions, and retreats that smaller fish can occupy that larger fish absolutely cannot access? The third is complexity. Is the structure large and complex enough to offer shade, to block sight-lines, and to hide or conceal what’s in and around it? If it were in your backyard, could your kids use it when they play hide and seek?  Keeping in mind this trio of primary functions will help you begin to understand what fish need and enable you to reject bad design ideas and eliminate potential construction materials that don’t amplify these important characteristics.

Across our country, there are many bodies of water from large sprawling reservoirs to small backyard ponds. Many of them are lacking fish habitat for a variety of reasons. In many cases, artificial habitat can be a surrogate but only if it addresses in utilitarian ways the features of genuine habitat. 

If you work in the fish management sector, you and your colleagues have an obligation to be very critical of the designs being paraded in front of you. If we’re not more careful about scrutinizing and properly evaluating artificial fish habitats, we run the risk of unknowingly filling our waterways with useless materials instead of creating legitimate habitat. 

Certainly, there’s much to discuss about creating artificial fish habitat, and because true innovation has slowed to a trickle, we find ourselves mired in a kind of estuary between realizing we have a habitat deficiency and creating the kinds of authentic habitat that will make any difference. Artificial fish habitat needs to provide functional value to our fish. The scale of the problem is enormous in many locations, and won’t be solved by adding more sub-standard and inadequate structures any more than human homelessness can be solved by putting out more cardboard boxes and tents. 

King of the Deep: Swimming with Muskies in Their Natural Habitat

I’m very lucky that I just happen to live in an area that’s home to some of the most legendary muskie lakes in the country.  Over the years, I’ve had a chance to swim in some of these famed waters and encounter muskies up close in their own environment.  There’s nothing quite like seeing a large muskie underwater.  They glide effortlessly through the water with the supreme confidence reserved for members at the top of their food chain.  Because of this, they’re not afraid of divers and I’m able to approach them usually fairly easily.  They are surely aware of all the other fish and animals that populate their world and because divers are an anomaly, they will routinely approach me with what I can only characterize as curiosity. They often make a complete circle around me as if to inspect this ‘strange creature” from every angle.  They also display keen awareness.  When I enter a lake, I don’t have to search for the muskies.  I’ve discovered that if I’m patient, they will find me.  Drawn, I’m sure by acute imperceptible sensory abilities and also probably just by the noise of my air bubbles too.

What Makes A Captivating Image?

 

Imagine you’ve invited some friends over for dinner. You spend all afternoon preparing and cooking a well-planned meal. After your guests finish eating, they enthusiastically proclaim it be one of the best meals they’ve ever eaten. Then they ask “What kind of stove did you use?”  In this context, it would be a nonsensical question that no one would ever ask.  But as a photographer, I’m very frequently asked what kind of camera I use when well-meaning admirers view my underwater images.

The implication is that all the magic happens inside the camera, and the photographer is merely the lever puller who simply manipulates the marvelous technology that’s really responsible for creating the magical images.  To ask photographers what kind of camera equipment they use is as meaningless as asking a chef what kind of stove he uses.  The question usually comes from novice photographers who are looking for a shortcut to propel their own photography to a higher level. It may seem like an innocent and not irrelevant question, but it fails to identify the secret that’s the real foundation of stunning images.

Thirty years ago when I first began taking underwater pictures, I was consumed by the same quest. If I could just find a great underwater camera, I’d be able to take pictures for National Geographic just like the pros did. Every few years I would buy a better camera, a faster lens or a more durable housing.  While that did make a difference in the quality of the pictures I took, something was missing that took me years to detect. In my case, with underwater photography, I had some of the best equipment I could afford, but what was lacking was sufficient knowledge of my subjects.

This wasn’t something I was aware of decades ago. Instead, it was a shortcoming that has only revealed itself in retrospect. Over time, as I learned more about the lives of the fish I was photographing, my images of them became more appealing and more penetrating. I began to study their behavior and their body language and I began to notice how my own body language, movements, and behavior affected them. In time, a kind of communication developed. I became able to recognize subtle cues from timid fish and learned how to approach them in non-threatening ways. I also learned how to send out my own signals which fish could decipher that would put them at ease.

My office bookshelves that were once filled with photography books began to be populated with books about fish and fish biology. As I learned more and more about my subjects, not only did my appreciation and knowledge for them grow, but my photography of them improved dramatically.  

Reading about fish was invaluable, but my real education came from the fish themselves. As I spent more and more time underwater observing and interacting with them, they divulged more and more about themselves. Over time and one by one, all their habits, routines, and individualities that weren’t discussed in fish books were revealed like a cascade of unmasked secrets. I make no apologies for anthropomorphizing fish when I talk about their personalities. When you’ve spent as much time with them in their underwater habitats as I have, these conclusions feel not only justified but undeniable.

Today, when young photographers ask me what kind of camera I use, I ignore the question entirely and instead encourage them to learn all they can about their subjects.  In all areas of wildlife photography, if you fall in love with your subjects and let them teach you, it will be impossible for your images to not mirror that love and appreciation. And I think that single element, one that admittedly can’t be quantified precisely, is what makes a captivating image.   

Ambassadors from an Underwater Realm

I’m often asked what my favorite fish is. That’s an impossible question because I love them all. While they’re all so wonderful in their own special ways, I do enjoy spending time with my Smallmouth Bass friends. They’re always friendly and curious and will eagerly pose for my cameras. They wait patiently while I fumble with the camera and strobe settings all while demonstrating my lack of swimming skills. To the fish, I’m a tourist visiting their world-largely ignorant and out of place despite my best efforts to fit in. Smallmouth Bass always make me feel welcome. Because they’re tirelessly cordial, friendly, and uncritical they are one of the best ambassadors of the piscine world. It’s a privilege to spend time with them and photograph them in their watery homes. 

The Pros and Cons of Early Season Scuba Diving

The 2021 season is underway. Water temperatures finally broke the 60-degree mark here in northern Wisconsin, which moved fish out of deep water and into the shallows for spawning.  At this time of year, I don't see many panfish, but the muskies are in the littoral zone completing their spawning rituals. I'm focusing on them now and getting some excellent pictures of post-spawn fish. In the next few weeks, I'll be switching my attention to the bass and crappie that will be spawning next and providing some excellent photo opportunities. Bluegills and pumpkinseed will be the last to spawn, with many bluegills still on nests well into July.

At this time of year, water clarity varies widely. Some lakes have excellent clarity very early in the year that degrades very quickly and never clears up. Other lakes are murky in spring and gradually clear up by mid-summer. Quickly rising temperatures also cause the water to stratify. A barrier can be formed that's difficult to see through. As long as you're looking straight ahead in a horizontal column of water that's the same temperature, you can see well. However, if you look up or down, even a few feet, you won't be able to see far because of this thermal barrier. This can make finding fish difficult. Once the water temperature warms enough, this layer will fall dramatically and form the thermocline, which is typically 20-30 feet deep.

One of the best things about diving Wisconsin's lakes in May is that boat traffic is still very limited. Kids are still in school, summer visitors haven't arrived and many cottages have yet to open for the year. This usually means that during the week, I have the lakes all to myself. After Memorial Day, things get busier. The increased boating traffic always drives the fish away from the shallows to deeper stretches where they're not as easy to find and photograph. Right now, even walleyes are in untypically shallow water and I've seen a few of them near shoreline cover in less than 10 feet of water.  

If you've always wanted to see our native fish in their natural habitat, pick up a snorkel and some swim fins and jump into the closest lake near you. You'll be surprised what you can see this time of year. 

Making Fish Look Their Very Best

 

I once read an article about how fashion photographers for Vogue and Cosmo never shoot a super-model from below unless she has a terrific jaw-line.  It occurred to me that fish, with their gills, all have great jaw-lines, so I began getting below eye-level and photographing them from below.  The results were so breathtakingly stunning that I began to try to compose every fish picture this way.  Over time, it's become a distinct hallmark of my work.  I'm convinced that it's the best angle to photograph fish underwater.

I think it's incumbent on all wildlife photographers to portray their subjects with as much style and beauty as possible.  This is easy to do with cuddly puppies and furry baby seals, but with reptiles, amphibians and even fish, we often have to work hard to convey their inherent beauty to our audience. People will always care more about pretty things than ugly ones. That's just human nature. 

As a fish photographer, I feel a responsibility to my subjects to try to portray their magnificence in every picture I make. Because of this, I usually won't shoot fish with split fins, scars, injuries or other physical deficiencies. Instead, I look for fish that are healthy and vibrant. I want the best ambassadors of each species to represent the entire population. If I want viewers to care about fish the way I do, I have to make it as easy as possible for them to appreciate and embrace these finned marvels.

2021 will be the start of my 28th year of photographing native North American freshwater fish underwater in their natural habitat. I can't wait to get back in the water with my super-models!

What we Can Learn From Fish When We Spend Time With Them:

Do fish have individual personalities? I'm often asked this question and I have some definite thoughts about it. For me, the answer is unequivocally yes. I’ve been photographing fish underwater in their natural habitat for over 25 years. In that time, there are long stretches when I’ve worked with the same individual fish for years at a time. I think most would agree that just like the personality distinctions one could make between say poodles and collies, distinctions between different types of fish certainly exist. Northern pike have different personality traits than largemouth bass and bluegills. Each species possess their own “group personality identity”.  But I would also suggest that it goes further than that. Individual fish behave differently from their cohorts and exhibit what can only be regarded as unique personalities with as much depth and richness as those of our own pets. 

Epiphanies about fish like this one can easily escape the casual observer and are only possible when one spends an extended amount of time observing and interacting with them. But because fish live in a world separate from ours, it’s difficult to do this in the same way birdwatchers can for example.  To observe fish in their natural habitat, we have to go under the surface with masks & snorkels or diving equipment. 

On warm summer days, our lakes are filled with swimmers and boaters, but they’re largely unaware of the diversity of life that swims just below them. We’re deaf to a grand symphony in concert under the surface. In recent years kayaking has become a very popular way to enjoy our waters. I’d love to see snorkeling gain that same kind of popularity in our inland lakes and become something you do every weekend, and not just when you’re in Hawaii on vacation. 

I’d encourage anyone interested in animals, and especially those interested in fish specifically to explore snorkeling as a way to observe and enjoy fish. They’re so fascinating to watch and there’s much we can learn about them.

Why Underwater Photography in Freshwater?

I'm often asked why I'm interested in freshwater fish like bass and walleye.  Well, the freshwater world has never had an ambassador in the same way the oceans had Jacques Cousteau.  Perhaps, all of us who spend time in lakes can collectively be some sort of equivalent to that.

I think there’s always room for more good photographers, and I think interest in freshwater fish will continue.  I’d encourage beginners to learn about their subjects.  Become an expert on the life and behavior of these fish.  Become a steward of their habitat.  Whether it's a musky, a largemouth bass or a bluegill, think of yourself as a PR person for that particular fish.  If you do this, you’ll show them in the best light, you’ll be mindful of disturbing them, and your work will automatically show these creatures at their most magnificent.  Don’t sell pictures or videos.  Instead, fall in love with your subjects and sell that love!  And instead of exploiting them for personal profit, you’ll become partners with them in calling attention to their inherent beauty and value in the ecosystem, and the special problems each one of them face in an increasingly crowded world.

Photographing Native Fish in Freshwater Lakes: Overcoming the Obstacles

I'm often asked what the biggest challenge is to taking underwater fish pictures.  Well, there are quite a few obstacles and many things that have to be right to be able to get a good picture.  First, the water has to be clear, which is actually a greater challenge than you might think.  Freshwater lakes are typically pretty crummy so finding lakes that have the necessary clarity is an ongoing process.  I usually won't even look at a lake if the clarity isn't at least 18 feet.  Water clarity can change from week to week and season to season too, so even though I have my favorite lakes, they’re not always clear enough to work in.  Everything starts with water clarity and if you don’t have that, nothing else matters.  It’s always a challenge to find clear water.

Once I find a clear lake, I have to find fish.  Next I have to find fish of desirable size.  This is easier said than done too.  It's always a problem especially these days when it seems like there’s fewer and fewer really nice fish available.  If I do find a lake that’s clear and it does have a few good fish, another challenge is getting close enough to photograph them.  I like to be 2 or 3 feet away.  Any further and I won’t take a picture at all.  Fish often times have a problem with a diver being that close, so it takes a lot of patience to even get close enough to think about composing a picture.  But once I have clear water, good fish, and get close enough to shoot them, I still have to make the shot.  So even if everything else is right, sometimes I blow it all on the final step because I was moving, or the composition is bad or I forgot to turn on the strobe, etc.….

A lot goes wrong.  Sometimes I feel like it’s truly a miracle to get any good pictures at all because so many things that I can’t control have to be right all at the same time.

Conditions underwater are typically very hostile to a photographer.  The lakes and rivers where I shoot can be very cold.  In rivers, currents can be strong, and visibility is always an issue.  Underwater photography is inherently tricky.  Water is 800 times thicker than air, and there's always particles floating around or algae and things like that, so you've never going to get the really "clean" look you can get shooting through air. The water is often cold, the fish can be elusive, and you've got to always be concerned about your air supply, so there's a lot to think about. The light underwater is very poor too, so often I have to carry underwater strobes to illuminate subjects in deeper water. If you can imagine taking photos on a dark, cold, foggy, windy day… that sort of comes close to the everyday conditions of the environment I work in.  Saltwater environments are infinitely easier.  The water’s 100 times clearer, there’s 100 times more light, and ocean fish are used to seeing very large things swimming around them.  In freshwater, you look like Godzilla to those poor fish.

So, yes-the challenges are many, but as I always say, "If it was easy, everyone would be doing this".

The Prettiest Freshwater Fish

"A very beautiful and compact little fish, perfect in all its parts, looking like a brilliant coin fresh from the mint." - David Jordan and Barton Evermann-American Food and Game Fishes, 1905.

One of the most colorful of our common freshwater fish is the​ Pumpkinseed Sunfish. Like other sunfish, I think the most striking photographs of pumpkinseed are images of male fish photographed in the spring when they display their vibrant spawning coloration.  They look like jeweled treasures. However, pumpkinseeds retain much of their brilliant hues all year as evidenced by this photo I took in mid September. 

One of the most interesting things about Pumpkinseeds is the strong instinct they have for a home range. Pumpkinseeds have a remarkable ability to find their way back to a familiar location. In fisheries studies, pumpkinseeds that have been captured, marked, and then released in another part of the same lake, are often recaptured near the location where they were first caught.

As fall began I was able to take pictures of several gorgeous Pumpkinseeds staging in deep water along well defined weed-lines in a northern Michigan lake. Aren't they magnificent little fish?  You can view all of my newest underwater pumpkinseed images in our ​Pumpkinseed Sunfish Gallery here.

Summer Largemouth Bass-Where to Find Them

It's late summer and we're getting some really attractive Largemouth Bass images showing these fish using thick weed cover and a variety of other natural habitat elements.  

At this time of year, we face several obstacles when photographing bass. They tend to be harder to find because they're occupying all areas of the water column and tend to be widely dispersed. Water clarity diminishes this time of year as well, making normally suitable lakes too murky or "green" for good photography.  Finally, there's a seasonal shift in attitude of these fish by August.  Bass that were very approachable in the spring have become more wary and timid by late summer, so getting closeups of them becomes more difficult.  

Despite all those challenges, we're still able to get some fine images of them in their natural habitat.  Check out all our latest Largemouth Bass in our Largemouth Bass Gallery.

Getting Close to Fish: How's That Done Exactly?

How Do You Get So Close to The Fish? Why Don't They Spook?

That's a question I get asked frequently by many people. To photograph fish well underwater, it's necessary to get very close to them. So how do I do that? One thing I've done is to develop a series of techniques that communicate to the fish my lack of hostility, and my general inability to compete with them as creatures perfectly designed for life underwater. One way I do that is to present myself as obviously as possible. I don't try to ambush or deceive them. I don't wear a camouflage wet suit. I don't sneak around or hide behind boulders or timber. I don't try to advance toward a fish when he can't see me. I don't even try to be particularly quiet.

In fact I do the opposite of all those things. I make sure the fish see me coming from a long way away. I try to show myself out in the open and demonstrate what my limitations are. Ideally, you want to convey to the fish how slow and incompetent you are in it's environment; how clumsy you are; how incredibly un-stealthy you are; This is so opposite of what a predator would do that many fish are able to detect that you're not a threat to them, based on your complete lack of cunning or covertness. You want them to see you and think that you're completely ridiculous (which you are of course). The faster you can get them to understand this, the faster their fear will disappear. 

What I'm mainly trying to do with this approach is to begin a relationship with a specific fish or fishes that I expect to see many more times in the future. However, if you have one chance on one day with a fish you know you'll never see again, I'd recommend a more stealth approach. 

Ordinarily though, I'm just trying to get fish used to seeing me. Over many visits to the same lake, the same fish will see me time and time again. Eventually, as bizarre and strange as my appearance may be to them, I won't be considered "an unknown scary thing" to avoid. Fish will come to regard me as that "big funny looking turtle-like thing" they sometimes encounter. Nothing to worry about. Once I can establish this kind of confidence level in the fish, they give me permission to approach closely to get the kind of pictures I want without causing them to flee.

As many who work regularly with wildlife will tell you, it's all about body language. It's the way animals communicate with each other and the only way for inter-species dialogue to occur. Learning how to eliminate unintentional signals of hostility or threats to animals is something we can learn to do and employ effectively in our encounters with them.

Swimming With Muskies

The first time I came face to face with a muskie underwater in its environment, I thought I was going to have a stroke. I was scuba diving in a small northern Wisconsin Lake known primarily for bass and bluegills, when I turned and found myself face to face with a monster that looked more like an alligator than anything else. To say I was startled would be an understatement. I remember screaming into my regulator as an eruption of air bubbles exploded from my lungs and raced towards the surface. My arms and legs flapped involuntarily in panic and I stirred up a cloud of silt that quickly enveloped both the beast and me. After a few seconds, when I had recovered from the start and regained my composure, I was amazed to see that the giant fish hadn’t moved an inch. It was still there, just three feet away hanging motionless in the slowly clearing water. In stark contrast to my initial panicked surprise its reaction was just the opposite. Its demeanor was calm, and its steely-eyed gaze remained fixed on me the entire time like a gunslinger in a Clint Eastwood western. This was a fish filled with confidence, instead of fear. He was the ruler of this underwater kingdom, and seemed to regard me with the same sense of apathy and disinterest that’s normally reserved only for telemarketers and late night TV pitchmen. Finally, he slowly finned away into the depths and I was left with a feeling of awe and admiration for these magnificent fish that has only grown over the years.

I’m very lucky that I just happen to live in an area that’s home to some of the most legendary muskie lakes in the country. Over the years, I’ve had a chance to swim in some of these famed waters and encounter muskies up close in their own environment. There’s nothing quite like seeing a large muskie underwater. They glide effortlessly through the water with the supreme confidence reserved for members at the top of their food chain. Because of this, they’re not afraid of divers and I’m able to approach them usually fairly easily. They are surely aware of all the other fish and animals that populate their world and because divers are an anomaly, they will routinely approach me with what I can only characterize as curiosity. They often make a complete circle around me as if to inspect this ‘strange creature” from every angle. They also display keen awareness. When I enter a lake, I don’t have to search for the muskies. I’ve discovered that if I’m patient, they will find me. Drawn, I’m sure by acute imperceptible sensory abilities and also probably just by the noise of my air bubbles too.

One of the attributes of water is that when viewed through a prism of air, objects appear to be larger than they really are.  So when I’m underwater looking through my diver’s mask, a 45-inch musky appears to me to be a 60-inch fish!  Fish and anything else viewed underwater are only ¾ of their actual size.  Fisherman often ask me how big the fish are that I see.  I do my best to adjust for the optics of underwater viewing, but the fact is, I just don’t know.  Fish look really big underwater, and big fish look positively huge when viewed underwater.  For the first few years, I got really excited whenever I saw muskies.  “Wow!  That’s got to be a world record!” I would say to myself.  But over the years, I’ve come to better understand this illusion and now I don’t pee my wetsuit quite as often when I see what looks like Moby Dick.  What this means sadly, is that all those reports you hear of 6 foot long monsters swimming next to the boat, or huge fish that got off before they could be netted are really just ordinary sized muskies.  Some may argue that the fish lined up exactly with something on the boat that’s of known size and therefore, that’s evidence that the fish was really a whopper.  This of course is nonsense. Since you would still be viewing the fish in water through a space of air, the magnification illusion is still in play.  Your boat is a poor yardstick since it’s in air, and the fish is underwater. 

I remember a particular encounter one spring a few years ago. I was taking pictures in Lake Tomahawk in Vilas County Wisconsin.  I came across 2 muskies engaged in spawning activity.  It was a very dark rainy morning. The light was terrible and I wasn’t able to get any pictures, but the fish I saw that day was truly impressive. The size of the spawning male was not remarkable.  In fact, he was simply dwarfed by the female he was swimming with.  She was a real beauty.  She was enormous, and had a girth like those big watermelons that win ribbons at the county fair.  She swam along side of me and I took a good long look.  I’m five foot, eight inches tall, and the fish lined up next to me was longer than I was!  Was this a 6-foot long muskie? I did the quick arithmetic: Since it appeared to be 70 inches or more, its real and actual size would have been a little over 50 inches.  Possibly 52 inches. While not a world record, she was still a spectacular fish in anyone’s book.

Mastering the Close-Up Fish Portrait: How It's Done

The number one mistake novice underwater photographers make is failing to get close enough to their subjects. Since freshwater fish are relatively small, you have to get extremely close to them for striking, frame-filling pictures. On the other hand, this isn’t as difficult as it may seem. 

Once you see a fish, you need to make a quick assessment of its potential for your photographs. If it’s swimming away, let it go. Swimming after a fish is futile and results only in pictures of tails, not the stunning full-body portraits that you’re really trying to make. You’ll want instead to concentrate on fish that are not in motion. These are the easiest fish to photograph. 

Once you see a fish nearby, the first thing to do is to freeze and let the fish come to you. If you remain motionless and quiet, many fish are curious enough to swim right up to you for further investigation. Any sudden movements will cause them to swim away quickly. Remain still and allow the fish to become accustomed to your presence. After a few minutes, if the fish doesn’t approach you further, and it doesn’t swim off, move in closer. Do this slowly and only a few inches at a time, pausing with each new advance. 

Always try to approach fish mainly from the front. Let the fish see you. Because this approach is an unnatural tactic for a predator, the fish will more likely regard you as non-threatening if you behave like this in a slow and deliberate manner. As you move in closer and closer, stop to take a few pictures. Continue to move closer while carefully watching the fish. At some point, you will go beyond the fish’s zone of acceptable comfort. This is when the fish will retreat because you’ve gotten too close. But if you move slowly, studying the fish as you approach, you’ll see early signals from the fish that you’re getting too near. It may begin to get nervous, to turn, or move slowly away. This is where you stop. This is as close as you’re going to get to this particular fish at this time. This is where you take your close-up pictures. 

If you’re doing it right, you should be only one to three feet away. Your pictures at this distance will be amazing, especially in very clear water on a bright sunny day! It’s important to keep in mind that fish vary from lake to lake and species to species. Don’t be disappointed if you don’t get near enough for that breath- taking close-up every time you shoot. There will be other opportunities. With time and patience, you’ll enhance your skills at this method. With experience, you’ll get within arm’s length of most fish most of the time. 

If you have a question or comment about photographing fish in freshwater environments, you can contact me at eric@underwaterfishphotos.com

How Does Artificial Fish Habitat Work?

The Science Behind Fishiding Artificial Fish Habitat

I recently collaborated with David Ewald from Fishiding.com on a ten-part video series that explains how artificial fish habitat works. In the videos, which you can watch on myYouTube channel, we examine many of the characteristics that are necessary to design the kinds of structures that serve fish most effectively.

While natural elements like trees, stumps, rocks and plants provide the best habitat, artificial surrogates have a place in this conversation. The bottom of many southern reservoirs resemble moonscapes and there is little if any existing natural habitat. In many of these man-made lakes, man-made habitat is often the only viable option to provide young fish with the kind of sanctuaries they require to survive the challenges of early life.

In our video series “The Science behind Fishiding Artificial Fish Habitat”, we show you never-before-seen underwater footage of how fish utilize this habitat and why it should be considered a legitimate tool for fisheries professionals faced with managing waters where habitat is marginal.

If you’re interested in watching the videos, make sure you also read the 800 word narratives that accompany each video. Each narrative provides a complete description of the footage you see and points out key aspects of design, function, installation, testing, configuration, size and complexity. There really is a lot to know, but we’ve worked to distill everything we’ve learned into an easy to understand presentation that we hope you’ll find both interesting and useful.

You can view the entire video series on YouTube here and on the Fishiding page here.

How To Photograph Timid Fish Underwater

In freshwater environments, photographing timid fish can be an exercise in frustration. After nearly 30 years of working with subjects underwater, I’ve learned a couple of things that might help you get closer to fish and get better images.

Since freshwater fish are relatively small, you have to get extremely close to them for striking, frame-filling pictures. On the other hand, this isn’t as difficult as it may seem. Once you see a fish, you need to make a quick assessment of its potential for your photographs. If it’s swimming away, let it go. Swimming after a fish is futile and results only in pictures of tails, not the stunning full-body portraits that you’re really trying to make. You’ll want instead to concentrate on fish that are not in motion. These are the easiest fish to photograph. Once you see a fish nearby, the first thing to do is to freeze and let the fish come to you. If you remain motionless and quiet, many fish are curious enough to swim right up to you for further investigation. Any sudden movements will cause them to swim away quickly.

Remain still and allow the fish to become accustomed to your presence. After a few minutes, if the fish doesn’t approach you, and it doesn’t swim off, move in closer. Do this slowly and only a few inches at a time, pausing with each new advance. Always try to approach fish mainly from the front. Let the fish see you. Because this approach is an unnatural tactic for a predator, the fish will more likely regard you as non-threatening if you behave like this in a slow and deliberate manner. As you move in closer and closer, stop to take a few pictures. Continue to move closer while carefully watching the fish. At some point, you will go beyond the fish’s zone of acceptable comfort. This is when the fish will retreat because you’ve gotten too close. But if you move slowly, studying the fish as you approach, you’ll see the early signs from the fish that you’re getting too near. It may begin to get nervous, to turn, or move slowly away. This is where you stop. This is as close as you’re going to get to this particular fish at this time. This is where you take your close-up pictures. If you’re doing it right, you should be only one to three feet away. Your pictures at this distance will be amazing, especially in very clear water on a bright sunny day!

It’s important to keep in mind that fish vary from lake to lake and species to species. If fish in a particular lake refuse to let you approach closely, go to another lake. There are just some places where fish don’t see many divers, snorkelers or swimmers.  In waters like these, they tend to be more apprehensive. On other lakes, where fish see people with more regularity, they’re less frightened by our presence.

 One technique I often employ is called the “swim by”. That’s where you make one pass near a group of fish at a distance. Your objective here is simply to be seen. You swim by not approaching them or barely even paying them any attention. This gives them an opportunity to see and evaluate you.  Later you can return to this group. They’ll be less alarmed because they’ve seen you before and their prior experience with you wasn’t regarded as hostile.  The “swim by” helps to build some confidence in timid fish.

Don’t be disappointed if you don’t get near enough for that breath- taking close-up every time you shoot. There will be other opportunities. With time and patience, you’ll enhance your skills at this method. With experience, you’ll get within arm’s length of most fish most of the time. 

Why Do Smallmouth Bass Catch and Release Crayfish?

The interaction between bass and crayfish is something I've been watching for a very long time and now think I understand. Typically, when people view these kinds of videos, they get the wrong impression of what's going on. Most people believe the crayfish is successfully repelling the attack of the hungry bass simply by its posture and extending the claws out in a menacing fashion. What in fact is happening is the bass is choosing not to eat the crayfish. This decision is arrived at by a single factor that has nothing to do with the defensive posturing of crayfish.

Bass are initially attracted visually to the crayfish, and rush in close. The decision to attack is then based solely on the hardness of the shell or exoskeleton. This most certainly can be determined once the crayfish is in the bass's mouth, causing the bass to immediately spit out the crayfish, if the crayfish is in its "hard shell" state. But it seems that bass can also detect this without first mouthing the crayfish. At first I thought they were doing this by visually inspecting the crayfish, but now I think they must be picking up a scent as well. Crayfish that have recently molted have soft shells and are much sought after by bass. Crayfish can't ward off attacks by sticking their claws out defensively when confronted by a bass. Bass laugh at this pathetic attempt. When they're in this soft shell phase, after a recent molt, no amount of claw wagging, or any other posturing is an effective defense.

When there are competing bass nearby, there's no time to evaluate whether the crayfish is soft or not. The main goal here is just to get to the food before your competitor. So in these cases, bass will more or less attack and "ask questions later". Once they have the prey in their mouths safely secured from other bass, they will release it if it turns out to have a hard shell.

Predation on individual crayfish seems to be solely determined by the current state of hardness of the crayfish exoskeleton.