It is fun being part of a big catfish story that has a fantastic ending, even for the fish! In addition to having a restful time on a warm black night at the edge of the river bank, I had only received a few bug bites and I hadn’t fallen into the water once! It was a good night!
I didn’t catch a lot of fish that evening; just a few small catfish. My cousin and a buddy of his were the ones that capped off the evening with a whopper. The following is my account of their story:
About 10:30 last Friday evening, I decided to call it a night of fishing, pack up my gear and head to the house. My two younger fishing buddies decided to stay and go out in their little 12 foot skiff with a 10 horsepower motor. We hadn’t used the boat because it was designed for two people, not three.
By the time I got home and washed the sweat and bug repellant off my body, it was just approaching midnight. I had just gotten to sleep when the phone rang, shocking me out of a dream of big fish and palm trees.
Expecting the worst from a middle of the night phone call I was surprised to hear my cousin excitingly telling me that they had a fish on the line. They had been fighting it for over an hour.
He told me that after I left they had gotten into the small boat and moved about 75 yards away to deeper water. From there they could see the lights of their camp. Without that campfire the river would have been as black as inside of one of the caves that dappled the stone cliffs on the opposite bank.
Bill and my cousin Dave continued fishing after I left. They were anchored near a deep hole in the Tennessee River about three miles east of Decatur, Alabama. The depth finder noted that it was about 42 feet from the surface to the bottom of the river at the point where they tossed their baited hooks into the water.
Fishing at night on any body of water is a spooky proposition, especially when your fishing line is tight with something deep under the surface of the water thrashing about trying to throw the hook.
Dave called me again at two in the morning, still excited but exhausted from a three hour battle with a huge blue catfish. Every time the fish came close to the skiff it would turn and make a mad dash toward Mobile. They were only using 25 pound test monofilament and had to be careful not to put more stress on the line than was necessary.
Earlier that afternoon, they had stopped at the mouth of a creek that was flowing into the river and had caught several shad. As cut bait, a hunk of shad on a hook is hard to beat as bait for a hungry catfish.
Their fish had scooped up the bait from the bottom of the river and for three hours maintained a constant pull on their line. At times it seemed like they had hooked onto a submarine.
Finally when both the fish and the fishermen were worn out, they pulled the cat fish up to the boat and immediately decided that the thrashing fish would tear their craft to pieces of they were able to get it on board. They did the next best thing and tied the monster to the outside of the boat.
A fish this size has to be weighed and photographed or else it’s just another tall tale about the one that got away. They lashed the fish to the outside of the boat with the anchor rope. They called a friend who would bring a set of bathroom scales and a camera and meet them at a marina about three miles away.
After weighing Dave, the two other guys lifted the catfish and put him in his arms. The difference in the two weights was 67 pounds. The length was 5 feet, 7 inches. That was some catfish.
Ever the sportsmen, the trio returned the fish to the river. After a pat on the head, the fish, which they had now taken to calling Charlie, twisted out of their grasp and returned to the river.
ANIMAL PLANET WITH ROSMAN JACKSON 