Catfishing Lore and Childhood Memories

Catfish. What do you know about these odd looking, slimy, and sometimes disgusting creatures? Like most people, you have at least heard much about them. Things such as they are slimy; their "horns" are sharp and can slice you wide open; they will eat anything, even people; some have been found to be so big that they can swallow a Volkswagen Beetle with little difficulty, or a scuba diver with complete ease.

It is true that they are slimy. The slime helps to protect them from infections and bacteria. If you catch one, the worst thing you can do is let it roll around in the net or on the ground. It is better to handle it by the mouth if you intend to release it. Their "horns" (actually part of their fins) are sharp when they are small. This protects them from predators. Around the weight of three plus pounds, they are too dull to really stab or cut. Catfish do not grow large enough to eat a person. The world record blue cat is currently around 140 pounds (Virginia), and the current record for a flathead cat is around 120 pounds (Kansas). So, the next time that someone swears there are fish big enough to swallow a man whole at the Cataract Lake dam, roll your eyes and say, Wow!

 In North America we have five basic species of catfish. Common terms are yellow bellies-- probably the most disgusting; this fish is primarily less than five pounds and actually will eat anything. Not a favorite at the dinner table, it tastes like river mud smells. The channel is the most commonly caught and ate. The flathead is the stuff that legends are made of. Flatheads eat live food, are voracious fighters, and have a clean fish flavor. Lastly, the blue cat. This species has the capability of growing the largest. Not particularly a favorite for the dinner table, the blue mostly eats dead food and has an oily flavor. Lastly, the spoonbill cat. This is a prehistoric looking fish that can grow up to 140 pounds (Kansas) but is protected in most states,  I really have no idea how it tastes.

Growing up, my family loved to begin catfishing when the dogwood trees bloomed in the spring. At this time of year in the Midwest, the river water temperature is rising and triggering pre-spawn behavior. The catfish feed aggressively until the spawn. When the water temperature is right, the female releases her eggs and the male fertilizes them. He then stays with the nest and fry, protecting them from predators and intruders. The bite is virtually nonexistent until the male leaves the young. For us Hoosiers, this is normally between the middle of May until the end of June. During July and August, the bite increases as the catfish aggressively gain back the lost weight.

On my favorite childhood catfishing trip, my two little brothers, Gordon and Danny, my dad, and I floated the St. Francis river in Missouri. I really don't remember if we caught catfish, but we did swim, eat, and try to fish. I remember that we boys had a bad habit of getting in Dad's tackle box and not latching it shut. Gordon had additional habits of hooking others and snickering when he was in trouble. We were sitting on the bank fishing by lantern light until it was time to run our trot line. Dad had walked a few steps away to relieve himself when his pole had a bite. "Dad, you have a bite," I said. "Go ahead and grab it," he answered. Gordon, Danny, and I looked each other in the eye and we each had the biggest of poop-eating grins on our faces. We were going  let the fish bite until he thought his pole would be pulled into the river.

 "It's really biting Dad."

"Grab it son."

"We'll it's your pole. I think you should be the one to get it. It's going in."

Dad, unable to see his pole in the darkness and unaware that we would grab it if necessary, ran to his pole. His tackle box was in his way. With what he thought was a Carl Lewisesque leap, his toe caught the tackle box. Dad sprawled forward onto the sandy ground, the tackle box looked like it literally exploded, spewing sinkers, hooks, and lures volcanically like a fisherman's psychedelic dream. Gordon, Danny, and I erupted in laughter. Dad was cussing and trying to recompose himself. Oh my God, he was so angry with us. For the next few hours we just sat and silently stared at our poles while Gordon made little whimpering snickers and snorts trying to suppress his uncontrollable laughter. Dad seethed. What a night. Believe it or not, Dad even loves this story. It was an heirloom; our last childhood trip down the St. Francis.

I have guided catfishing trips for years on Cataract and Raccoon reservoirs, and I will pass along what I have learned. 1) Use bait that is oily and/or bloody. 2) Fish close to structure. 3) Keep your bait off the bottom when pole fishing (Catfish have overbites. They do not "play" with their food, it may seem so, but they are trying to get it out of the sediment on the bottom.) 4) Fish when the barometer is high, or when it plummets before a storm. 5) Try to fish from late afternoon to midnight. 6) Take some snacks and enjoy yourself.

What do you know about cat fishing? What is your favourite bait? When do you think the best time of year is?