The Other White Meat

Head on down to Chicken Island Pass, where the tasty catfish will make you swear off of poultry.

While riding downriver from the Berwick landing, the thought occurred to me: Why would anyone prefer white meat?Turkey, chicken, pheasant, quail — it’s all the same. White meat from these birds is almost always dry. So much extra care and effort must go into making sure it comes out moist. Of course, done right, like a lot of things, it keeps you coming back for more.

Hence, the direction I was going, not for poultry but for that other kind of white meat — blue catfish fillets. I was going back for more at a place called Chicken Island Pass.

When fishing down the Atchafalaya River below the Intracoastal Canal, there are numerous places where fishing for blue cats is typically good during the month of March. Places just before the pass like Fools Point or just above the junction where Bayou Shaffer meets the Atchafalaya River can be exceptional at times.

Catch a blue cat or any species of catfish this time of year, conduct an autopsy examining the contents of its stomach and what you’ll find is river shrimp. As the water rises in the spring and river shrimp cling to the marsh grasses, catfish gorge themselves on the tiny freshwater crustaceans.

After work the night before, I stopped by Rogers Bartley’s place in Patterson to pick up a pint or two of the little guys.

“Man, you need more than that if you and you’re wife are fishing,” the affable Rogers said, smiling at me.

He talked while digging deep into the bottom of his freezer and pulling up several pints.

“They’re frozen, so let what you’re going to use thaw in the refrigerator,” he instructed. “Tomorrow put the container in a little ice, and they’ll stay fresh all day.”

Handing me a bucket with six pints, he continued while walking me to my truck.

“Freeze what you don’t plan on using, and come back when you run out.”

I left with enough to make more than a day of it. Bartley, a commercial fisherman and class act, always seems to have enough on hand to take care of the local anglers.

Just to break the monotony, I also packed a box of nice fat Canadian nightcrawlers for my wife, Christine. Those slimy gobs of 80 percent water are always good for a 3- or 4-pounder that she inevitably catches to brag about.

Let her brag, I thought to myself as I imagined and could almost taste the piping-hot, golden-brown fried fillets that I’d nibble on right out of the fryer basket. I daydreamed as the boat engine had that steady, relaxing whine, where you know you’re making good time but not pushing it. They sure beat the heck out of yard birds. Toss in a side dish of white beans and rice, and …

Chicken Island Pass is typical of most downriver locations. From the bank edge or any of the shallow-water sandbars you locate, there is a gradual decline outward to a significant drop-off toward the middle. The edge of the drop-off is where you want to be anchored with the bow of the boat facing upstream, where tightline fishing is the name of the game, with an added twist.

Most fishermen set the anchor, toss a line downstream in the back of the boat, settle in and wait for some action. There’s nothing wrong with this — considerable numbers of catfish over the years have been put on ice this way. However, by taking a page out of a Pacific Coast steelhead-fishing manual, anglers may be able to increase their catches by using a lighter weight and bouncing the bait up the drop-off.

The method can be deadly. When river shrimp are placed on the hook, it gives the illusion of moving bait that catfish aggressively attack.

How much weight depends on the rig you are using and the speed of the current. In March, when the water is rising and there is a falling tide, the current may be moving faster than normal. A 1-ounce weight may keep you bouncing off the bottom in swift current. In slower current, you may wish to start with a ¾- or 1/2-ounce weight.

When it comes to rigs for bottom-bouncing, I prefer two set for tightline fishing. One is a slip-sinker rig with an 18- to 24-inch leader and snelled 1/0 kahle hook. The other is a crappie-style drop rig with the weight on the bottom and standard 1/0 hook suspended above extending perpendicular off the line approximately 6 to 8 inches.

A 1/0 hook is just the right size for the targeted 1 1/2-, 2- and 3-pound catfish you typically want to catch for a fish fry, but also plenty big enough to hold larger fish.

On the way downriver to Chicken Island Pass, it’s not uncommon to see boats anchored in the middle of the Atchafalaya fishing deep-water holes with heavy weights and larger 2/0, 3/0 and even 4/0 hooks. They tend to catch fewer fish, but what they do catch is typically much bigger than what’s caught fishing the drop-offs closer to the bank.

One of the drawbacks to fishing the deep middle-river holes is anglers have to fight heavier boat traffic from both commercial and recreational vessels when setting up on anchor. Most commercial vessels will slow down, but the occasional crewboat doesn’t.

Catfishermen setting on anchor in the middle of the Atchafalaya and downriver bayous need to be prepared for large swells.

Patterson residents Mike and Natalie Clayton are a husband-and-wife team who frequent Chicken Island Pass. The couple enjoys getting down to their camp most weekends throughout the year to just relax and catch a mess of fish.

“We probably fish down there three weekends out of each month,” Natalie said. “I can sit all day and just relax. The guys always want to go in when the fishing gets slow, but the way I feel about it is we’re down here to fish, and I can stay all day.”

“She usually outfishes me,” Clayton said. “We use mostly worms, and fish in 8 to 10 feet of water out near the drop-off in the pass. We’ll fish when the current is moving and get down in the deeper water near the drop off or find a hole with the depthfinder, and do well.”

The nice part about Chicken Island Pass for catfish anglers is it’s not a long run downriver from the Jesse Fontenot Memorial Boat Landing along River Road in Berwick. Short 15- to 20-minute runs like the one to Chicken Island Pass are great for the family, particularly when considering a half-day morning or afternoon trip.

Slowly lowering my anchor, so as not to disturb the fish on the sandbar below the boat, the distinct splashing sound of a weighted crappie rig hitting the water came from the back of the boat. My spouse wasted no time getting the drop on me.

No worries, whether she caught the white meat or I did from Chicken Island Pass, they would taste the same coming out of the fryer. And a whole lot better than that other dry poultry meat.