Two weeks ago I told you all about my frenemy, the northern pike.
In case you were wondering, our relationship hasn’t improved — just like the weather.
So, I dragged my son north in search of better ice and a more amiable sparring partner: the underappreciated tullibee.
Actually, “dragged” is probably too strong a word, at least after prying him from his bed at 4:50 a.m. After that, he was positively jazzed for another chance to go toe-to-tail-fin with those silvery dynamos.
Tullibees, otherwise known as ciscoes, are members of the whitefish family. They thrive in cold (usually deep) water, feeding mostly on invertebrates at the bottom of the food chain.
You’d think with a diet like that they wouldn’t grow too large or feisty. But I’ve caught them frequently in the 14 to 17-inch range, which is big enough to put up an admirable fight.
They typically respond to baits that don’t stop jiggling, rising and falling. Hold it still for a moment and they’re likely to dart away.
As vigorous and fast-swimming as they are, however, it’s normally hard to tell when they sample the goods. Determining their mood and triggering bites can take several encounters.
Rejection can be crushing; a successful hookset is exhilarating. All part of their mystique, really.
Tullibees often roam near muddy lake bottoms, sucking up assorted tiny organisms. But sometimes a pack of them will sweep past, halfway up to the ice. Statistically speaking, those are the ones most likely to take a lure.
That has been my experience on Mille Lacs, anyway, where I have mainly pursued tullibees. However, where my son and I fished last week, at Redacted Lake, they were present at every depth in the 30 feet of water beneath us.
Some chased our jigs up so far, we lost track of them on the sonar.
Didn’t see that coming, but part of the fun is cracking the code every time you go out.
The first half of our day was rather slow. Lunch time seemed a good chance to stretch our legs and relocate in the hope of finding more schools.
Instead of staying in the middle of a large basin, I thought it could help to sit near a dropoff. My reasoning was that it could act as a wall, and funnel them past us more frequently.
It might have worked.
Schools of tullibees seemed more frequent, though nibbles were still few. That new location also brought a few nice crappies to our jigs.
Hooking a rock bass, two nice perch, and a tagged walleye on my tip-up was a memory-making bonus.
In all, it was a good day of multi-species action. The result was a handful of tullibees, plus enough other fish for a fry-up the next night. We felt satisfied with our modest haul.
For generations, tullibees were classified as rough fish, with no possession limit. From what I’ve gathered, few fished for them specifically.
One notable exception was on Mille Lacs, in a place nicknamed the “Tullibee Hole,” where hundreds would congregate in late winter to target them.
Near the southern extent of the tullibee range, that lake is a notable example of the slow but detectable decline of tullibees in Minnesota. Warming lake temperatures are usually cited as a cause, there and elsewhere.
Like trout, tullibees have high oxygen needs in summer, and can suffer die-offs in warm conditions.
As with most things, I came along too late for the glory days on Mille Lacs. Its ‘bees trend large, but numbers aren’t what they once were.
Well into the 21st century, abundance continues to slip toward scarcity. As a result, fall netting was discontinued on Mille Lacs some time ago, and special angling regulations have been in place for years.
Currently, a person can only keep five tullibees there.
A year ago at the DNR Roundtable meeting, I heard statewide limits were coming for tullibees (and a few other species which have also recently been re-classified as game fish). I reached out to Shannon Fisher, DNR Fisheries Populations Monitoring and Regulations Manager to see if those might be in place for the new regulation year, which starts after this month.
He said it won’t be that soon, but, “If all goes as planned, the cisco limits would be in place March 1, 2025.”
The proposed limit is 15, which will have to go through a public comment period. Hopefully, anglers won’t put up too much resistance.
Tullibees are delicious, Omega-3 rich food for humans, but they are also high-quality food for predators like pike, muskies, walleyes and lake trout.
There is a bit of concern that trouble for tullibees will also spell trouble for lots of fish higher up the food chain. With increasing pressure on fisheries — especially in winter — it seems wise to act before we find tullibees are irreversibly imperiled.
For now, each winter I’m happy to invite a handful home with me for dinner. I typically treat them to a 24-hour brine bath, followed by six to eight hours in warm, smoky bliss.
Then each is given its own zippered cryogenic storage chamber.
Free of charge, of course. Nothing but the best for one of my very favorite fish.
Each one around 14 inches or greater makes a great centerpiece to a charcuterie platter for a family of four.
Smaller ones may or may not be wolfed down by dads when no one’s looking. After all, dads deserve some sort of prize for finding a way to get teenagers out of bed before five o’clock.
Roy Heilman is an outdoorsman, writer, musician, and ethnic Minnesotan. His adventures take him all over the map, but he’s always home at neveragoosechase.com.