Tom Roth shows off a typical Sebago Lake lake trout taken while fishing Jordan Bay in February 2022. Tom Roth / For Lakes Region Weekly

Well, we asked for it and we got it! Finally, a winter where Jordan Bay froze enough to support ice fishing. While ice-angling never lasts as long as we want it, I managed a few trips out to the hardwater and now I look forward to the winter ritual of cusk fishing. Last year at this time I was readying my boat for the first open-water trip. As I look at it plowed in by a tall snowdrift, I know I have a few more weeks before I have to begin that process.

Cusk, also known as burbot or commonly “freshwater cod,” or “poor man’s lobster,” are the close cousin to the saltwater cusk and, like its relative, is in the cod family.

My neighbor, Craig Lowell, who has a camp just across the cove from me, called the other day wanting to do a cusk trip. Nothing conjures up images from my past like nights spent at the lake chasing cusk. We typically got to the lake around supper time. I made a fire in the fireplace and cooked up something, oftentimes beans and hot dogs. Brown bread and coffee rounded out the fare. Once supper was done and when it got dark, we would venture out on snowmobile to set a series of traps for cusk. Typically, we baited our traps with old saltwater smelt that were frozen and thawed a few days before the trip. This gave them a chance to “ripen” up, or stink. My old fishing partner felt that the more pungent the bait, the better attraction it provided. The lines were weighted with a sinker and the bait was placed on the bottom in a sandy or gravelly location. This meant close to shore or on a prominent sandbar or gravel ledge.

Tom Roth is a freelance outdoor writer who lives in Raymond on the shore of Sebago Lake. He has been fishing and hunting in this region for more than 30 years and is a Registered Maine Guide.

The rules required us to check the traps once per hour, so we generally went back to camp and set an alarm. The warm fire and bean supper had us snoozing on the couch in no time. Once the alarm went off, we would zoom out and check our traps. Most nights didn’t see flags until the wee hours. Then, as if by magic, one of the early morning sorties revealed a tripped flag. More often than not, the line was motionless as the cusk ingested the bait. As the line was pulled in, the writhing cusk came alive and put up a brief fight. Once on the ice, the odd fish resembling an eel slowed movement as the cold set in. My partner would always comment, “That’s a good chowder fish.”

Indeed, cusk are great for chowders. Their firm, white flesh is close to halibut or cod and some even fry them in butter and eat them like a lobster tail, hence the moniker “poor man’s lobster.”

However you prepare your cusk, they are delicious and March is the opportune time to target them. Just be sure to check ice thickness, especially as you get close to shore where melting and slush wreak havoc on the ice.