The marshes of South Central Louisiana offer more than just spectacular bass fishing.
“Come on, come on, don’t play with it. Yeah baby,” Christine whooped.Swinging my seat around to watch the action, I was just in time to see her give a non-lady-like, lip-ripping yank. The 5 1/2-foot Shakespeare rod bent over in a 180-degree arc, straining the light tackle to its extreme tolerances. I knew the fish would go well over 3 pounds for sure.
This was not the first time I listened to Chris coax a fish into making the fatal mistake of biting. I’m quite positive it won’t be my last. I knew we were only hours away from fried catfish fillets. What’s more, the way she was sweet-talking them, there would be plenty of opportunities to go back for seconds.
I knew from the half-smile, half-grimace on her face, the fish’s straight-down pull was stressing her forearms. I wasn’t about to ask Chris if she needed me to take over. She was having fun — Icy Hot would take care of the rest.
Seconds later, she had won the battle, and began cranking the handle of the little closed-face Johnson reel.
“Get the net!” she ordered.
Instead, I got the camera. This fish was going to be a really big catfish for a rod and reel. I was confident in Chris’s ability not to lose it — the net could wait. Moments like these so often don’t wait, I’ve discovered.
The water began to swirl as the fish neared the surface. Suddenly, there it was — a big blue cat.
As the fish rolled, I marveled at the slate color as it met the white underbelly. How could something so ugly be so beautiful at the same time? Truly, catfish have faces only a mother could love.
Catfish are the blue-collar species of sport fish. You won’t find them mounted on a plaque and displayed in a place of honor. You won’t see, too often, someone offering a photograph of a stringer. You won’t hear of a catfish club with tournaments like those of a bass club.
These whiskered fighters are not typically a fish you hear folks bragging about, unless it is in the buffet line at a seafood restaurant.
No, these fish are the Rodney Dangerfields of freshwater game fishing, but that’s exactly what makes pursuing them worthwhile.
They don’t, as a rule, take any special equipment. You don’t have to pursue them in a boat that costs more than your house. Artificial baits tend not to appeal to them, but stuff that makes your fingers stink does.
If you’re not accustomed to sitting for extended periods of time, and patience is not your virtue, I wouldn’t recommend this form of relaxation. This form of relaxation is pure relaxation.
Louisiana’s fresh and brackish water marshes offer so many opportunities for the recreational sportsman, our state may just be at the top of the list for catfishing nationwide. From Berwick Bay between Morgan City and Berwick to the mouth of the Atchafalaya River, west along the coastline to the Calumet Spillway, then further west to Cote Blanche Bay, the marshes are prime territory for outstanding catfishing.
It is common along these tributaries to see bush lines, trot lines, jug lines and spanner lines, all with the common goal of putting catfish on the dinner table. All of these methods for taking catfish specifically incorporate quantitative strategy approaches. These approaches are simply designed to get as many hooks in the water as one can possibly manage in the shortest practical timeframe.
Essentially, all of these approaches are effective; however, what’s missing is a whole lot of action and fun that only a rod and reel can provide.
All of the areas in and around Atchafalaya Bay, Berwick Bay and Cote Blanche Bay are tidal, with the springtime offering some of the greatest ranges of the year. For the catfish angler, the moving tide is conducive to the one method employed in pursuit of cats more than any other — the tight line.
Local fishing expert, Bullet Bass Club President Gerald Foulcard, knows a thing or two concerning tight-lining. Though bass fishing is his first passion, he also loves targeting catfish.
According to Foulcard, tight-lining is the best method for fishing catfish with a rod and reel.
“Many people use a lead weight on the bottom fastened just above the hook where the rig fishes on the bottom — sort of a Carolina rig, where the hook is behind the lead,” he said. “I, on the other hand, like to fish with the weight touching the bottom and suspend a 1/0 hook no less than 18 inches above the bottom. I reel in the slack, allowing the bait to suspend in the current rather than bottom fish.
“This allows me to catch suspended fish feeding with the tide. Another advantage is you don’t get hung up as much either.”
Christine and I have our favorite spots along several bayous that open up into the Atchafalaya Bay. Among these are Hog Bayou, Big Beach Bayou and Little Beach Bayou. Typically these tributaries produce fish as we work the tide from the coastline back up toward the landing. Whether the tide is rising or falling is irrelevant; as long as the water is moving, the cats will bite.
What I look for, since these bayous all have several crooked, hairpin turns, are those bends that produce a deep channel on one side or the other. Due to the tightness of the turn, often a sort of backwater eddy occurs that slows the current a bit. The fish will find these locations and feed on the suspended aquatic bio-life that flows out of the surrounding marshes.
We will cast up- or downstream based on the tidal condition in an attempt to allow the bait to settle into the eddy. As the bell sinker bounces along the bottom, we reel in the slack keeping a strain on the line. The rest is up to the fish.
Another feature I typically look for is a trenasse that empties into the bayou. These narrow drainages hold plenty of baitfish and feed out the main current of the bayou. These locations act as a rest/feed location for fish on the move. There is always a catfish or two lingering around the mouth of a trenasse.
I also purposely fish the mouth of any of the small bayous that open into the shallow bay waters along the coastline. There usually is a deep area just inside the mouth that will hold fish. As the water flows over these little drop-offs, the unsuspecting bait, crustaceans, insects and fish are devoured by the predators waiting in the depths.
For bait, one can use just about anything. Over the years we have used worms, minnows and shiners, the ubiquitous shrimp, and even stinkbait. In my opinion, stinkbait is the least effective for the coastal area, where fish are feeding on the move.
Other effective baits are river shrimp and cut crab. River shrimp tend to be smaller than their saltwater cousins, but what they give up in size doesn’t seem to diminish the intended result where catfish are concerned.
By contrast, pieces of crab tend to hit or miss, though I’m not sure as to why since small crabs and other crustaceans make up a portion of a marsh catfish’s diet.
But there is no doubt in my mind that a big Canadian nightcrawler is the best catfish bait available.
Another local bass angler known around the area as a go-to guy when it comes to fishing is Ray Beadle.
“I hate fishing for catfish,” he said. “I can’t stand sitting on anchor when I could be throwing lures, but my wife, Gloria, loves to catfish, so I do it sometimes. When we go, I’ll use a 1-ounce bell weight with a trailer 1/0 hook with a shrimp on it.”
According to Beadle, one of the best locations for fishing catfish is Morgan City in the Atchafalaya River from Conrad’s Shipyard to Tidewater Point.
“Tremendous amounts of fish swim though this area,” he said. “When the boats are anchored out beneath the bridges during the weekdays, it is time to go.
Personally, I prefer to fish this location when the water has fallen to the 2.7- to 2.5-foot level. Just before the water turns that reddish-green color and the clarity comes back is when I go.
“In the river, I’ll use 20-pound-test line with a 4/0 hook. For bait, I’ll use a shrimp or a big, doubled-over worm, and fish the whole thing suspended 12 to 14 inches off the bottom, and we’ll catch plenty of 1 1/2-to 2-pound fish.”
One of the little bonuses Christine and I have grown accustomed to when fishing for catfish are the small schools of gaspergou that frequently hit our lines.
Another blue-collar fish, ’gou tend to bite more like redfish, with a sort of a hit-and-run strike. Even the smallest ’gou will put up a spectacular fight.
Since we always use light tackle when catfishing, some of the bigger ’gou that go over 20 inches are really a blast to catch. Much like catfish, ’gou don’t get a lot of accolades as a gamefish, but they provide plenty of scrap that will make most folks change their mind about their status.
I’ve actually caught them on artificial baits, albeit by accident, but that proved to me their aggressiveness.
I haven’t quite mastered the art of fish coaxing, like Christine has, but I am catching on to some of the better lines: “Fishy, fishy in the river, take my hook and make it quiver. Fishy, fishy in the stream, take my hook and make it scream. Fishy, fishy in the bayou, bite my line so I can fry you.”