Behind the crowd, standing next to a four-wheeler, is a man with a brown beard. He stands around six feet tall, wearing a black Carhartt jacket, hat and mustard yellow gloves. Next to the bearded man is a woman and a few other men. The men are asking the bearded man questions. While the bearded man politely smiles and answers, except for a few glances to the woman next to him, he keeps his eyes on the front of the crowd, near the table.

Suddenly, one of the men at the table turns to the crowd and asks, “where’s Cody?”

The bearded man, Charles “Cody” Jett, steps away from the crowd and walks forward to the folding table. With two hands, he picks up his coveted catch and turns around.

The crowd surrounds Jett. Many of them have their phones out, taking pictures as Jett holds his prize. One man even walks up to take a selfie with Jett.

Something similar to this – a crowd around two DNR officers at a folding table – would happen around five more times, all within the next 45 minutes. The members of the crowd all seek the same intention: to get a look at a lake sturgeon.

To say just "lake sturgeon" would diminish the goal. These are no ordinary lake sturgeon. These are Black Lake sturgeon. These are some-anglers-may-not-catch-even-one-in-their-entire-lives sturgeon.

But Jett did, and this year, he did it first. He was one of the hundreds who trekked to Cheboygan County the morning of Feb. 4, with hopes to be one of six lucky anglers to catch the highly sought Black Lake sturgeon.

The competitors

Black Lake sturgeon season starts precisely at eight in the morning. Many anglers, however, arrive at the lake much earlier than this to start preparations. That way, once 8 a.m. hits, they can focus solely on spearing a sturgeon.

Jeremy Schley was born and raised in Cheboygan but now lives in Virginia. Lake sturgeon season is a reason for him to return home and see his friends. He travels up and stays the week alongside his friends David Moore and Curt Mushlock.

Mushlock said at 45 years old, and having fished out of Black Lake since he was 15, he has never caught a sturgeon out of Black Lake. In his shanty, Mushlock has a night-vision camera and monitor set up so he can keep an eye on the water around his decoy. 

Most anglers use decoys to try and bait the sturgeon. Most of these are wooden or plastic fish, but Mushlock said some anglers get creative when it comes to decoys. 

"They're curious fish," Mushlock said. "You can use pretty much anything, I mean, people use bowling balls, whatever."

Schley and Moore have been participating in the season for around 10 years. Moore and Schley came out on the ice the day before the season and cut the hole they used to fish and set up the ice shanty.

Moore, who has never caught a lake sturgeon, said sturgeon fishing is like a lottery because of how many people take part in the season compared to how few fish can be caught.

The frustration with the season’s brevity is likely a common one. Lake sturgeon season is short. Famously short. In 2022, all six fish were caught in 36 minutes.

“There’s only been about two years that we’ve actually made it to at least Sunday since we’ve been coming out,” Moore said. “That’s the only problem is you spent all this time, effort and energy to get set up and then you go in there and sit, all of a sudden, it’s 8:30, and the DNR is calling or banging on your door saying it’s over.”

In the years where fishing has extended into Sunday, Moore said it was because it was cloudy and that the water underneath the ice was abnormally stirring. However, a lot of the season comes down to chance.

"It's one of those things," Moore said. "You gotta be lucky enough to when you sit down, and 8 o'clock hits, look into your hole and hope it's already sitting there." 

Schley said he has had poor luck in the past when it comes to sturgeon season.

"I've only been lucky enough to see 'em the day before the season," Schley said. 

When asked how that felt, Moore responded, "It sucks," and started laughing.

Behind the scenes 

The reason for the brevity is because of how the DNR regulates the fishing season to ensure full rehabilitation of the sturgeon population on Black Lake. For over 20 years, the DNR has been in the rehabilitation process to fight against the overfishing that took place in the mid-to-late 1900s.

So now, according to a 2016 report by the DNR, the number one goal of the rehabilitation process is to see a population of 1,600 to 2,000 adult lake sturgeon by 2030. Michigan State University adjunct professor and DNR area manager Ed Baker said the sturgeon population is around 1,200. 

DNR officials walk the line between rehabilitation and allowing for the fishing of sturgeon by allocating a small number of sturgeons to be caught each season.

Because of a treaty made with five tribal governments in northern Michigan, half of the allocated sturgeon is given to the five tribes, while the state takes the other half. This year, and last, the state allowed for six sturgeon to be caught during the season.

Baker said for him and others at the DNR, a successful season means they do not catch over the quota.

“When the fish are harvested, we prefer to see, to be honest, smaller fish versus the large females,” Baker said. “We’d much rather see the large females out in the lake, swimming around, than coming up the river in the spring to do their spawning and trying to sustain the population naturally.” 

This low quota of catchable sturgeon led to the DNR officials in charge of lake sturgeon season running a tight ship. DNR conservation officers are stationed throughout the lake, armed with 800 megahertz radios to communicate when a fish has been caught. The officers keep their eyes on any shanties with a red flag outside, indicating the angler inside is taking part in the sturgeon season.

Tim Rosochacki and Wes Butler were some of the DNR officers assigned to monitor the south side of Black Lake. Sitting atop two large snowmobiles on the iced-over lake, the two were positioned near the entry point of the lake so if any angler was lucky enough to catch a lake sturgeon, they could flag over a DNR officer to start the documenting process.

“We’re basically sitting out here, watching, waiting for a fish to be speared or to be caught,” Rosochacki said. “We’re gonna go check that fish, we’re gonna take a seal and attach it to it and we’re gonna take some rough measurements and then they’re going to take that fish to the check station.” 

When a fish is caught, Rosochacki, Butler, or any of the other responding DNR officers on the ice use their radio to call the check station where the DNR sets up camp with their plastic table. The officer radios in preliminary information to the check station: Who caught the fish, whether or not it was tagged by the DNR previously and the estimated length and weight. Once it is taken back to the check station, more exact measurements of the weight and length are taken. A clip off of the caught sturgeon's fin is also taken for research purposes.

When an officer radios in a message that a sturgeon has been caught, Jason Woiderski is among the first to know. Woiderski is the vice president of the Black Lake chapter of Sturgeon for Tomorrow and one of the few non-DNR officials given a radio. 

Wearing a red winter hat with a black tattersall pattern and gray and red jacket, Woiderski remains at the check station throughout the morning, directing traffic coming on and off the ice, telling the crowd to back up for the officers and most importantly, letting the officers know when a sturgeon has been speared.

At 8:53 a.m., he receives a message through his walkie-talkie notifying him of the third sturgeon to be caught.

“Zolner,” the officer on the other end of the radio begins, referencing the road the check station is on. “We got a fish on the ice.” 

Woiderski pauses and looks at a DNR official coming out of the station.

“Three,” he says in a whisper, holding up three fingers.

Two minutes later, another announcement comes through Woiderski’s radio.

“We are reporting fish four,” the officer said. 

Woiderski, to the same DNR official, holds up one hand, extends all of his fingers but his thumb and says, “four.”

Ten minutes later, the fifth and sixth sturgeon have been caught within seconds of each other. And just like that, after an hour and five minutes of being opened, sturgeon season on Black Lake is brought to a close.

Celebrities for a day

Jett, a Cheboygan resident, said he has been fishing for lake sturgeon for the last four to five years, but this year’s catch is his first.

Jett set his 49-inch, 30-pound male sturgeon down on the ice and snow outside the "beer tent." Here, he fields occasional questions and conversations from spectators and anglers. Some come up to ask about the sturgeon he caught, some telling him congratulations, others asking what he did to catch it. 

Jett said he got out on the ice at 7:30 that morning, after cutting his hole the night before. He said was waiting for the 8 a.m. mark and started fishing. 

"Luckily enough, I got one (on the) first fish," Jett said.

The DNR was right outside Jett's shanty, so they came over and started initial measurements. He said catching the first sturgeon of the year was pretty exciting, especially because it was his first ever sturgeon.

Some of the successful anglers are like Jett, who let other anglers and spectators gaze at the catch. Others have their sturgeon checked out and recorded by the DNR and leave right away, eager to avoid the spotlight.

Scott Archambo left the sturgeon out on the tailgate of his utility vehicle as people gaze and even hold his prize catch, a male lake sturgeon who measured 54 inches and weighed 34 pounds.

Archambo, who is 60 years old, said he speared his 15 to 20 sturgeons throughout his life, between Black Lake and Wisconsin’s Lake Winnebago (where the sturgeon fishing is far less regulated), having speared his first when he was 12 years old. 

“The fish out of Black Lake tastes a lot better than the fish out of Lake Winnebago,” Archambo said. 

Because of the catch, Archambo said he had his day cut out for himself. Literally. The way sturgeon meat freezes, Archambo and others said in order to best prepare the fish, he was going to go home and get to work.

“I’ll clean it up and we’ll steak it and fry it,” Archambo said. “I’ll filet it down the side, down the spine, round the belly, and then you’ll cut this lateral line out of it.” 

Then, he pointed to lines on the side of the sturgeon.

“But before you do that, I’ll cut the fat off,” Archambo said, tracing the lines. “Each one of these lines here will be a fat line. Red and yell, red and yellow? That’s real sour. Makes the meat really bad, you got to cut all that off.”

While Archambo, Jett and the other four victorious anglers will be eating steak sturgeon for the next few days, for hundreds of other anglers, the day is already over, and it is not even 9:30 in the morning. They will be taking down the red flags and driving home sturgeon-less. 

But they will be back next year because the temptation of becoming one of six anglers to spear a sturgeon is too great.

When asked what makes it so worth all the time setting up for season, Mushlock had a simple answer.

"You never know if you're gonna get a fish," Mushlock said. "If you do, it's worth it."