What are Wisconsin's Clearest Lakes?

What are the clearest lakes in Wisconsin?  Every year, I consult with Wisconsin's state-wide citizen's lake monitoring group. They're a network of individuals, usually lake-front property owners who monitor and regularly take a variety of water samples from lakes all across Wisconsin.  The data they compile helps to give us a look at how our lakes are doing. One of the many tasks lake monitors perform is to take regular sechi disc readings. This is a universal way of assessing and comparing water clarity.  I'm always interested in knowing which Wisconsin inland lakes are the clearest.  Here are the lakes that recorded the highest average water clarity in 2018. In short-here are Wisconsin's clearest inland lakes and their average water clarity in 2018:

1)   Lake Wazee, Jackson Co. 30.3 feet
2)   Whitefish Lake, Douglas Co.  27 feet
3)   Smoky Lake, Vilas Co. 26.7 feet
4)   Paya Lake, Oconto Co. 26.6 feet
5)   Black Oak Lake, Vilas Co. 26.5 feet
6)   Pine Lake, Waukesha Co. 25.5 feet
7)   Lake Metonga, Forest Co. 25.5 feet
8)   Presque Isle Lake, Vilas Co. 25 feet
9)   Mildred Lake, Oneida Co. 24.3 feet
10) Blue Lake, Oneida Co. 23.25 feet

To See the lake list from 2017, click here. To see the lake list from 2016, click here.To see the lake list from 2015, click here.  To see the lake list from 2014, click here.  For the lake list from 2013, click here.  And for the 2012 list of clear lakes, click 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.

Working with Fish Models

When photographing fish underwater, the trick is to get as close you can and shoot through as little water as possible. In freshwater environments, even the clearest water has a lot of suspended material in it that will degrade picture fidelity, so getting close is paramount. This smallmouth bass was only a foot away from a camera equipped with a wide angle lens. The wider lenses are necessary so that the entire fish and some of the scene can be included in the frame. Some fill-flash from strobe lighting is added to bring out the color and fill in shadowy areas. Even on bright sunny days, ambient light underwater quickly degrades after only a few feet under the surface so supplemental lighting is always helpful. 

Smallmouth bass make excellent subjects because they tend to be very friendly and curious fish and will easily approach a diver with a camera. This is an older fish that I've worked with before as a photo model. He (or she) has somewhat of a back hump which makes him (or her) easily recognizable. I photographed this fish against a background of northern watermilfoil. Anytime you're able to include a nice background like this curtain of plants, it helps make the picture more interesting and gives the viewer a sense of the underwater habitat where these fish live.

I'm sometimes able to enlist the the same fish as a model if I've been able to establish a relationship with them.  This can occur only after many repeated encounters and a certain level of comfort develops.  While fish may never understand what we are, they know we’re not the otters they see who move with great speed and agility and should be feared. We’re probably regarded more like the way they view snapping turtles.  We're large, plodding creatures with no real underwater skills who aren’t a threat unless we get very close. 

Over time, the fish begin to notice that as we clumsily move through the water, we create a disturbance.  Unseen insects and other invertebrates that are hiding on plants or on the lake floor may be exposed or displaced and to the fish, they magically appear for them to eat.  Maybe a crayfish is suddenly seen fleeing and again a food item is summoned out of nowhere. They may begin to view us as sorcerers who can conjure up food items by our mere presence.  If they arrive at this conclusion, the entire dynamic between fish and us changes.  We become viewed as a waiter or sorts.  Instead of fearing us, we instead become something that should be paid attention to and even followed around so they’re able to snap up any treats that we may cause to appear.

Sixty Seconds Underwater

Today, I started a new video series on my YouTube Channel called "Sixty Seconds Underwater". In each episode, I'll feature a specific fish and present sixty seconds of stunning underwater footage of that species in it's natural habitat. In the premiere episode, I spotlight Black Crappie.  In future episodes, I'll cover bass, walleye, musky and many other freshwater fish.  Join me in going beneath the surface of crystal clear lakes and rivers and seeing fish close-up in their own environments.

 

 

Special Underwater Friendships

Steve, the Smallmouth Bass. His image has appeared dozens of times over the years in many magazines. He's likely the single most famous fish in Wisconsin.

Occasionally I’m interviewed about my underwater photography and experiences I’ve had photographing fish in freshwater environments. In today’s post, I’d like to share a portion of a recent interview I did that I think you’ll enjoy.

Question: When did you first start interacting with fresh water fishes and why? What drew you to them?

Answer: I’ve told this story many times.  I’ve loved fish for as long as I can remember.  Growing up, my father had many aquariums in the house.  As a child, I remember staring into them for hours watching the tropical fish and imagining what it would be like to be in the tanks with them. Later, I became an avid fisherman-and what fisherman doesn't wonder what it all "looks like down there".  In 1990 I moved to a home on a small lake in northern Wisconsin.  Then, a few years later came the day that changed my life.  One sunny August afternoon, I was just sitting on the deck looking at the lake.  For some reason, I noticed how clear the water was. Whether it was an epiphany sparked by the natural surroundings or a simple act of fate, I impulsively drove to a local chain store and bought a cheap swim mask, snorkel and fins. The mask leaked and the fins were too small. It was a disaster.  But once in the water I couldn’t believe the clarity and the beauty. The underwater world was radiant.  The play of light on rocks, emerald plants, sunken trees, and glowing green algae. It was an astounding realm of pure silence and unsurpassed visual delight.  And then there were the fish.  So many of them!  I was finally inside that aquarium I had fantasized about as a child.  I saw more fish that first day than I had seen all year as a fisherman.  But for the first time I saw them differently.  I saw them in their realm, relaxed and peaceful.  At home.

The mask and snorkel became my passport into a whole new world I never imagined.  It wasn’t long before my fishing rods were banished to a dusty corner in the garage and instead of looking at the new lures at the sporting goods store, I was looking at the snorkels, the wetsuits and the fins.  These were the accoutrements I was interested in now.  These were the tools that would best serve me in exploring this new world.  These were the instruments that would enable me to commune with fish in a way that I previously could scarcely imagine.  I began visiting other lakes and for me, every day became another “moon landing”-Another trip to the top of Mount Everest. Every trip under the surface was filled with awe, wonder and discovery.  I wanted to share with others the amazing things I was seeing.  In the following weeks a whole new purpose revealed itself to me and I started taking pictures.  I began to devote myself to documenting fish in their natural environment.  I wanted to show others the inherent natural beauty of these fish and the uniqueness of the freshwater environments they live in. 

Question: Can you recall or describe any very special encounters you've had?

Answer: Impossible question for me to answer.  There’s been so many.  They’ve become almost routine.  But here’s one that happened last summer that comes to mind, because it was a new one for me. There’s a lake I go to often where there’s a bass that I know and have been working with for about five years.  I call him Steve.  Every time I go to this lake it doesn’t take him long to find me.  I think he must hear my bubbles from the scuba gear.  I don’t know how far away he can hear me or how far he swims to reach me.  Sometimes it only takes him 10 minutes…. Other times it’s an hour.  Once Steve finds me, he stays with me for however long I’m in the lake, follows me everywhere, poses for pictures, and we’ve had lots of adventures together. 

So anyway, one day last summer, I went to Steve’s lake.  I looked for him as I always do, but he wasn’t around.  I was carrying two cameras that day.  My main camera for taking still photographs, and a GoPro mounted on a rack with strobes.  While it’s no problem to swim around with two camera outfits, once you start shooting, you need both your hands so you need to set one of the cameras down.  I left my main camera on the bottom in a clear spot.  You always try to leave it where it’s completely obvious.  It’s easy to lose your bearings underwater and find the exact spot you were at before, so you want to make it easily visible so you can find it again when you return.  So I leave my main camera out in plain sight on the lake floor and move down the shoreline about 200 yards to another place where I’m filming video with my GoPro.  I’m starting to get a little bummed out now because it’s been more than an hour and I haven’t yet seen Steve.  I always worry that a fisherman will catch him one of these days and… well… You get the idea. (Sigh)

So after more than an hour, I decide I’m done filming with the GoPro and now I want to take stills with my other camera.  I swim back to the place I’ve left it.  When I arrive at the spot, I see my camera just as I left it and hovering quietly next to it is Steve. 

It was a magical moment because while I know Steve recognizes me, it showed me that he also knows my camera.  After years of posing in front of it, he came to know it, with its dome port and all its knobs and buttons.  He was probably swimming by and saw it on the lake floor and recognized it.  While he didn’t know where I was, I think he knew that I set it down and that if he waited with it I would return for it.  After all, he’s witnessed me do that very thing many times.   This was an astonishing event.  I hope anyone who hears this story is amazed.  If they’re not, I need to do a better job at explaining how utterly amazing a feat this was.  It was absolutely one of the most incredible, and revealing demonstrations of fish intelligence I’ve ever seen.