Admiral Magruf vs. the Felonious Phantom of the Finger Lakes

Admiral Magruf’s log: a sweet day, west side of Otisco Lake by the downed white tree trunk

By Tom Maguire, aka Admiral Magruf

The phantom had a weird snout and oh, how it thrashed about!

I, Admiral Magruf, finally caught the dream fish I supposedly couldn’t catch. (On Oct. 23, 1987, city editor John Kelleher of the Elmira Star-Gazette posted a memo to the staff noting that Admiral Magruf was moving to Syracuse to “pursue his life-long dream of catching a fish.”)

So, decades later, the Labor Day roar had passed. I launched my skiff, the Magruf, from the southeast campgrounds of windless Otisco Lake: no competing boats, pastel reflections of trees on the water.

Only little fish were hitting the surface bugs that I make. I had been told that the pro at the campgrounds had caught a big walleye with a jig in deep water. So, I threw a quarter-ounce twisty-tail jig (pearlescent is my preference over pure white) with red eyes on the outside of the weed line.

I detected a hit — heavy, not moving much. Curious. Not like a bass. And this sure wasn’t a bluegill. With 6-pound-test line, I cautiously played whatever it was about 25 yards from shore. Surprisingly quickly, I got the fish close to the surface. Odd that the lure was visible but not the beast attached to it.

Well, I had been 0-for-2 landing this specimen when it had hit my bugs earlier that summer. But now I was going for a home run against Sharp Toofins from the deep (I know of at least one angler who was bleeding after handling this species). In my second confrontation with this creature, I had hooked a bluegill and reeled it in next to the boat. Shockingly, a cylindrical phantom appeared from the left, chomped the bluegill with my bug and quickly snipped my line.

This time, I was astonished to see, coalescing in the slightly greenish water below me, the barracuda-like shape again! The icon of Otisco Lake, the one they come from places like Albany and Pennsylvania to pursue — the master, the phantom, the tubular terror: the incomparable tiger muskie! A cross between a northern pike and a muskellunge! A backwoods mirage? NO! It’s real! The internet says that because they are a hybrid and therefore sterile, all they do is eat! An awesome sight: streamlined, tiger stripes, big head with big black and silver eyes. A friend of mine, Tony, called the fish “skinny” when I texted him a video of the monster. But if you had been in the boat with me, seeing it flopping, you would have gasped at the bulk of the thing: cylindrical and thicker than a submarine sandwich. My son, first mate Kerry, who graduated to fishing the surf on idyllic Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, saw the picture I took and called the fish “yuuuuuge!!!”

Another friend, Jeff, called the fish “ugly.” The magnificent head drops off cliff-like to create the crushed-looking snout! WHO put a duck bill on a masterpiece??!!

I emailed the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation about my fish’s weird snout. The DEC’s Scott E. Prindle responded that he did not believe my tiger muskie “was a ‘mutant.’ I suspect the deformity you observed on that fish was likely caused by an injury when they were young. It could have occurred in the hatchery while being netted or when they were stocked. Or it may have occurred once they were in the lake from a predator that attempted to capture them.

“It is possible that the fish did have a genetic abnormality which would cause the defect, but that is quite rare.”

Rob and Audrey, who live in the area, observed my jubilation at catching that fish. They had parked their pontoon boat just north of me at a gravel point. They watched the whole battle — my precious witnesses to glory!

Of course, the tiger muskie took off once or twice after it saw my boat. But I expertly let the fish take some line. Then I got it closer and dipped the net. I was surprised by the weight! As I tried to bring the fish into the boat, the net sagged. I sort of got it over the starboard side, I think (it was a blur) or perhaps I even got the net fully into the boat. But the day’s “ugly” hero leapt so crazily in the net that … THE WHOLE NET WENT OVERBOARD! Dumbfounded, desperate, I grabbed underwater for the handle! I think I missed the first time … as the net slowly sank with wonder-fish in it! The second time, I snatched the submerged handle! Rob said later he was ready to see me dive over the side! The tiger muskie — a fish to dive for!

I got it into the boat and the tiger tried to ricochet off my floorboard and over the side again! I tried wrapping the net around it in order to trap the fish. But the monster bore a hole through the net — stuck that sneaky snout THROUGH the net! A chunk of that fish was sticking out of the mesh! (I never took a measurement of my temporary companion; it seemed an imposition on this imposing lunatic — it was longer than my three tackle boxes placed side by side.)

And the elongated beast had a large boat-blasting tail! What a wonderful weirdo — at both ends! And how odd that the dorsal fin is way back near the tail, as if it slipped rearward from all that stealthy slithering these animals do. As I showed people the photo and video, it was like playing “What’s My Slime?” Ping pong player Glen thought it was an eel; Onondaga Free Library used-book-sale notable Sue wondered if it was a lamprey. Aran, adult services librarian at Betts Branch Library in Syracuse, figured my fish looked like an alligator gar.

How delightful after fishing the Finger Lakes for more than 40 years to catch a species I’d never caught before! I had figured that if I could take extended time fishing, not just one rushed day a month, I could expect surprises. In past years, unexpected catches on Otisco Lake were a crappie (a roundish fish) and a walleye (a toothy fish known for its nighttime feeding.) (I have no electronics and fish by instinct, the same way my fictional hero Inspector Clouseau operates.)

I somehow scooped the tiger muskie off the bottom of the boat with the net and plopped the fish back into the lake. It stayed horizontal for a moment, then slowly moved forward and then down — a magical sight even as it disappeared! My floorboard was coated with slime and also fingernail-like pearlescent scales. The copious slime made little windows in the mesh of my net, as if I had dipped it into a bubble bath.

I spread my arms and boomed my jubilation to the hill; I heard the faint echo with no one else around except for Rob and Audrey. They thanked me for the “entertainment!” And I thanked them for witnessing my vindication — finally a worthy fish!

The news had reached the jetty upon my return to the boat launch. Four people were fishing at the narrow channel between the jetty rocks. I told them of my catch and one of them said he had heard that someone got one today! Oh, how sweet — Gangster Admiral Magruf made the catch of the day! (A nice guy at the dock one day had called me a “gangster” for continuing to fish solo after my first mate Kerry moved to Hilton Head.)

And I pulled another surprise that September on Otisco Lake: two channel catfish on consecutive casts by the red shack on the west shore. Their whiskers were incredibly long; could they strangle themselves?

Epilogue: I peeled off the little scales that the tiger muskie left on the floor of my boat. I put the scales in a little plastic jar that will be my good luck charm whenever I need to do something spectacular. When I shake the jar, it faintly rattles.

Tom Maguire, of Syracuse, fishes in his trusty skiff, the Magruf, out of Otisco Lake Campgrounds and Marina in Marietta. Reach him at tpmaguire1@gmail.com.