As a boy, we would go out to Lake Huron somewhere along the shoreline when the smelt were "running" and catch them with just about anything - cattle feed bags, for example - and there would be a bonfire on the beach and a honkin' big frying pan, and people were frying up fresh smelts. Some of the smelt got cleaned first, and some actually got cooked before they were eaten. As a lad, it seemed like a wonderful adventure.
Fast forward to my teenage years. We heard the smelt were running, and a bunch of us went to a patch of Lake Huron shoreline with some feed bags, a logging chain to act as a bottom drag, and since we did not own waders, we wrapped our legs and shoes in black plastic garbage bags. Alcohol may have been involved. Everybody got soaked to the ass, no smelt were caught, and if memory serves me, somebody got some wieners and we had a wiener roast on the bonfire as we tried to dry our soaking wet clothes and shoes. Good times!