In Spring, Chicago’s Fancy Turns to Fish

Around the Great Lakes, spring is a little fishy--about four to six inches long.

The fish is called a smelt. A plate of them is “a mess of smelt.” And those who fish for them are “smelt dippers.”

In the Midwest, where deep, cool lake waters shelter millions upon millions of pounds of them, these tiny, silvery fish are as much a harbinger of the season as cherry blossoms in Washington and melting mountain snow in Colorado.

As the smelt dipping season opened Tuesday night, Chicago’s 30-mile-long Lake Michigan shoreline sparkled with flickering lanterns and dancing bonfires as whole families camped along the water’s edge just a stone’s throw from downtown skyscrapers and fashionable North Side residential towers.

Post-Winter Rite

“This is the first thing that happens after winter,” said Wally Moore, who was bundled up against the night’s chill as he tended his fishing net.

Smelt dipping is as much a rite of spring for those who flock to the shore to catch them as it is for the smelt who swarm to the shore to spawn--something the modest little fish do only after dark in April and early May. So smelt fishing goes on only between 7 p.m. and 3 a.m.

“They’re good eating and you can catch them only a half hour from home,” said John Rudaitis. He was with his wife, uncle and two teen-age children, continuing a family tradition that began more than two decades ago when another uncle first brought Rudaitis to the same place on the shoreline.

“I’ve been coming here since I was a little girl,” said Rudaitis’ 16-year-old daughter, Taiyda. “It’s fun catching all these little fishies. When I was smaller I used to give each one a name and plead with dad not to kill them.

This year the family’s “fishing” paraphernalia included a cooler, a portable heater, a portable radio, blankets, pillows and several five-gallon plastic buckets. There were also knives and a woodblock where Rudaitis’ uncle, Alfonse Bukus, 70, cleaned fish as soon as they were removed from the nets. Other family groups have been seen with portable televisions, stoves, porch furniture and cots.

Caught in Nets

The fish are caught in nets anchored by iron weights in the water and by poles or pipes onshore. A smelt-fishing rig costs about $30.

“On good nights we fill buckets and buckets,” said Rudaitis, a carpenter. “We just finished (eating) last year’s catch a few weeks ago.”

Counting the size of the haul is part of the fun of smelt fishing--sometimes hundreds in just a few hours.

“On my best day last year I got 300,” said Tony Dyrkacz, a construction worker. “I keep a diary with how many I catch each day.”

“My best night was 1,200 fish. That’s not a fish story. I cleaned them all the next day,” boasted Moore, a mechanic for Commonwealth Edison.

Bountiful in Lakes

One thing is certain, smelt are bountiful in the Great Lakes. They were introduced to the region in 1912, when 16 million eggs were planted in Michigan’s Crystal Lake. By 1923, they had migrated to Lake Michigan, where there are now estimated to be tens of millions of them. There are no limits on how many can be caught, but there is a regulation limiting the size of the net and allowing only one net per licensed fisherman.

During most of the year, smelt reside in the lake’s deep, cold water. But each spring, when surface water temperatures warm up to 38 degrees to 44 degrees, they move into shore to spawn.

Usually, the weather during the first days of the smelt season is brutal, but this year nearly a week of hot weather during the day and June-like nights made the opening tolerable. That is not always what a smelt fisherman wants however.

“I’ve had my best luck on the worst days,” Dyrkacz said.

“The worse the night the better the smelt,” Moore said.

“You have to keep going until you hit that one night,” said Rudaitis, discounting weather. “There are usually two or three nights when they are really running.”

Fried in Batter

Smelt, sweet to the taste, are generally served fried in either an egg-and-flour batter or a beer batter. Sometimes they are smoked. They are so small that they are eaten bones and all. Only the head is removed. Some say the fried tails taste like potato chips.

Though the smelt dippers are generally alone on the city’s beaches, which are kept open beyond their normal 11 p.m. closing only during smelt season, they do attract attention on warm spring nights.

“You have people strolling down here from Lake Shore Drive in their furs and jewels and they say ‘Oh, you’re catching fish out here!’ ” Rudaitis said. “They can’t believe there are fish right in their own front yard.”