Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Cane Pole Cattin / by Rich Johnson

Cane Pole Cattin
Bamboo crackled and popped as the line scissored to and fro throught the stained water creating tiny bubbles, silent temporary witnesses to this battle between fin and flesh. Again and again this fresh water shark of the midwest lunged for the underwater log jam that had been his majestic home. If only he could tangle the line freedom would be only minutes away. As I pulled back on the pole I could not help but wonder as to who would be the victor. Would it be the tensile strengh of the line , the timber of my bamboo staff, my quickly tiring tendons or the ancient determination of this fish as old as time itself. Just as I thought that I could not take any more I felt the big fish give a little ground. All of the pulling, twisting and jerking that had taken it toll on me had been equally hard on the large johnny as well.As I quickly and quietly slipped my net into the water in preparation of claiming my prize it quickly became evident that this net was way too small. Along with this sudden realization my arms again encountered this thrashing monster his sole intent it seemed was to pull my limbs from their sockets. During this tussle I was reminded on the old joke about the man who had climbed the tree to pull a raccoon from it. Instead of a coon it was a cougar. to witch he hollered at his friend to shoot the cougar. His friend hollered up that he was afraid to shoot he might hit his friend, but his friend hollered back :I dont care if you do , one of us needs some relief. This I could wholeheartedly relate too. The give and take of my bamboo pole finally bested this proud warrior. Laying the useless dip net aside I reached down and carefully placed my hands on each side of the flats head, grabbing the protruding spikes sticking out on each side of his head. I lifted this beaten gladiator and placed him in the bottom of my boat.Looking at him while trying to catch my breath I could not help but respect and admire this magnificent creature. As the shaking in my extremities had quieted I placed this fish on the end of my hanson (scale) and lifted him in the air. The needle pointed to 51 pounds.
Long before the age of modern rods and reels fishing poles consisted of the best bamboo or willow one could find. A strong piece of twine a hook and sometimes a floating bite detector )a cork) completed ones fishing equipment. String was tied to the butt or the big end of the willow wrapped the of the pole with several feet of line wrapped around the tip or the small end of this pole. This allowed the fishermen of old to roll or unroll as much line as was needed to reach the best fish holding spots in the deepest pools. When a large catfish was encountered the drag system of old was a combination of the flex of your fishing stick and the raising and lowering of the pole itself. When the pole could no longer bend the fishermen lowered his arm. Should the fist give any slack at all, the pole was lifted into the air. This continued until the fish succumbed, the line broke, or the hook pulled out. Today other than children few fishermen experience the face to face confrontation with a adversary that is full of pep, instead of one that is worn out from challenging the drag system of modern day reels from hundreds of feet away. I enjoy the close contact of cane pole fishing and I hope you will give it a try. Oh by the way after a few quick pic's I put that 51 pound'er back to live and to fight another day. Photos are the real trophies not some dead fish shown off all over town and then cast into a dumpster or a ditch on your way home. Pictures are forever!

2 comments:

Tristan said...

You never know... that 51-pounder may have grown into that 106-pounder you caught!

The American Catter said...

Kinda unlikely, the 51 pounder was a flathead catfish and the 106 pounder was a blue cat. But the good news is that both are still swimming around out there and both will be bigger by now.