The running of walleye in the Maumee River this month has fishermen going overboard trying to catch them. Literally. Mark Thorpe, of Fort Wayne, Ind., thought he had his first catch of the day after feeling a strong tug on his line, but he soon felt the chill of the 47-degree water of the Maumee. When leaning toward the side of his 15-foot boat to reel in a walleye, Thorpe lost his footing and fell headfirst into the water. ‘Just lost my lunch,’ Thorpe said as water dripped from his scruffy beard. ‘There’s no point in changing my clothes now, I’ve been soaked all day.’ A rainy Tuesday afternoon gave anglers like Thorpe murky chances to retrieve the tasty fish that are making their way up to Lake Erie in large numbers. Less than 15 boats were scattered across the Maumee River, with most of their occupants donning raincoats, rubber boots and, of course, fishing rods. ‘This stretch of the river alone usually has about 60 to 80 boats out there,’ said Nick Wallace, who has been making yearly trips to the Maumee from Pontiac, Mich., since 1994. ‘The weather’s a little too crazy today to catch anything, but it’s definitely not always this bad.’ This past Easter weekend, Wallace caught his all-time longest walleye, measuring 34 inches. Not bad at all. ‘[Monday] saw the best fishing of the year so far. Come out because today should be very similar conditions,’ wrote Gary Lowry, who owns Maumee Tackle in Maumee, on the river update section of his store’s Web site. Lowry’s Maumee Tackle store is hosting their 19th annual walleye tournament this coming Sunday, and with temperatures expected to be in the 60s over the weekend, competitor turnout should be at its highest. ‘The rain will bring more fish in the long run,’ Lowry said. The heavy downfalls should activate an abundance of walleye to pass through the area, which is off a shore in Perrysburg, near Fort Meigs. The common name ‘walleye’ comes from the fish’s mirror-like eyes, which gather light and assist in vision, according to the Web site TheNaturalResource.com. Because they make such good meals, walleye are the target of fleets of nomadic fishermen that set up shop wherever the fish travel. ‘We’re kind of like walleye-roadies,’ Thorpe said as he sat outside his tent, warming his half-frozen hands by a fire. With lines of trailers, trucks and tents set up along banks of the Maumee River, it looks as if the anglers are tailgating for a concert or football game. While Thorpe and his fellow fishermen drink beers and roast one of the rare walleye catches of the day, they laugh over the day’s events. ‘I’ll have to get boots with some better grip for next time,’ Thorpe said. ‘I came to catch ’em, not swim with ’em.’