Ludington Offshore Classic Am Day 1: From Ice Cream to Heartbreak… to Lake Trout?

7/19/20253 min read

Ahhh, the Ludington Offshore Classic. We’ve been fishing this thing since 2005 — the year of beginner’s luck, questionable decisions by tournament officials, and our little Islander boat hanging on for dear life in 6-footers. We led after Day 1 back then and got absolutely shellacked on Day 2. We still talk about it like Al Bundy scoring 4 touchdowns in one game for Polk High. That memory keeps us coming back for that sweet, sweet redemption.

Fast forward to today: No epic pregame superstitions, no wild omens, no Taco -fueled juju. Just good vibes and relaxed optimism. After the captain’s meeting, Morgan bought me ice cream from House of Flavors — possibly the most touching act of kindness I’ve ever received. We sat on the boat, melted into our cones, and drafted the starting lineup of baits. Morgan, if you're reading this — you buying me that cone may have been our top power move of the day.

The Morning Rituals™:

Alarm: 3:33am (Scotty Mac tribute)
Run: 1.83 miles
Breakfast: consumed but unmemorable.
Boat crew: quiet. Focused. Dare I say… serious.
Goal: 10 fish. Max 7 of any species. Standard rules, 9 lines, no funny business.
Lineup: Riley, Morgan, Tim, and Nick — strong squad, maybe mildly hungover?

6am shotgun start: We pointed north and set up just south of the bathhouse in 120–150 FOW. It really wasn't too crowded - not like tomorrow will be after everyone reads this report! Wait...did we really go north?

The morning bite was promising — 7 bites, 3 fish in the box. But then the bite died! We debated a turnback troll, but the rod math was easy (9 lines = 5-minute reset), so we pulled and ran it back south, set up again, trolled north again. Five more bites. Then pulled lines again and made a 3rd pass…Two more bites. Bite died again. Some boats were hooking up going south, so we tried it too. South troll resulted in nothing….Zilch.

At this point, we thought we had 7 fish. Spirits were cautiously optimistic. Checked the cooler: six. Six!?! Either we can’t count or the fish are staging an escape. Either way, mood dipped fast! WTF?

We moved north of the point where a sparkly red Ranger boat boxed us into 110 FOW…we grumbled. We sighed. But then… blessings from Shinin’ Times, our temporary boat neighbor. They called and said they’d just had three bites about ¾ mile ahead of us. I hung up the phone and BOOM — meat rig on the diver went off. Then a rigger. Then the 5-color with a Fireball. Triple. Right next to Ranger Boy. Sweet, sweet vindication.

We boxed all three — putting us at 9 fish (7 kings, 2 steelhead). One more to go, and we had two hours to find a trout of any flavor. Seemed easy enough…right? It was not!

Pulled meat rigs off, dropped steelhead spoons on high lines, dragged laker stuff on the bottom. Trolled, marked fish, got wind-blasted, lost all momentum. By now, it was like 1:00pm and we were crunching time estimates. Need to be through the pier heads by 2:00pm. Clock ticking. Morale low.

Then it happened…Diver rod went off. The crew tensed. The moment was electric. We landed a small but legally chunky lake trout — our 10th fish! We cheered like we just won the dang Super Bowl. Lines up, hammer down, back to weigh-in.

Final tally: 7 Kings, 2 Steelhead, 1 Laker (22 bites/10 fish landed = 45% hook-to-land ratio (blah), 91.3 lbs / 191.3 points, 17th out of 81 boats

We have a shot tomorrow. And that’s all we can ask for.

Hot Bites:

Red Tail SD mystery meat rig, small high diver 150 back (El Rancho Toothpicks) –– 5 bites
Showtime 10” Spindoctor Meat Rig small high diver 150 back (El Rancho Toothpicks) – 3 bites
ITO Meat Rig – chute rigger, 69 down – 3 bites
Yeck Fireball, 5-color – 3 bites (one was the magic laker!)
DW Soda, 50 down – 2 bites
Yeck Mag Blue Dolphin, 10-color – 2 bites
Jager Bomb, 3-color – 2 bites
DW Rhinestone Cowboy, 56 down – 1 bite
Chrome SD + Spin-n-Glow, 230 back on mag diver – 1 bite

Lessons of the Day:
• Pulling lines to run and reset is usually the right move. Turning around rarely works. Proud of that decision.
• Losing a monster 1 foot from the net while hand-lining a dipsy meat rig makes you feel physically ill. Like, I’m-not-joking-I-wanted-to-sit-down-and-stare-at-the-wall sick.
• When Tim and Nick aren’t slammin’ beers, they’re oddly competent. They only sipped like 15 today.
• Morgan watches golf on her phone. On a boat. During a tournament. Who raised her?
• You can feel like champs on the water and then get humbled real fast at weigh-in. High-fived like Super Bowl winners… 17th place. Ludington always delivers a reality check.

As of now, the crew is scattered…Riley’s off on a sunscreen quest, Nick’s helping Alison (…or napping himself), Tim and Morgan went to the Sportsman for food, Me? Sitting alone eating leftover salmon and gazpacho while typing this shit up.

We’ll find our mojo. We’ll group hug or something — whatever it takes. Tomorrow, we chase 10 fish again. And if we can go back-to-back with full boxes? We’re in it!