We’d seen several catfish swim beneath us as we sat side-by-side in a battered flip-over shelter on a rare corner of Michigan’s Saginaw Bay that was topped with fishable ice this winter.
We’d watched a thick, maybe 9-inch pumpkinseed sunfish pause to stare at Ken’s jig and waxworm, and next my perch-oriented Russian hook – and then swim away. And we saw a couple of dogfish swim past along the bottom, pike-slim but with different snout and markings. (The pike comparison was apt; we were, after all, armed with a spear.)
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