“Neither Rain Nor Wind Shall Stop Me From My Appointed Fishing!”

After working all day long on the computer, my mind was mush by about 4:30 PM.  Decided to do a quick rain check, and, while it was quite cloudy and breezy, it was not raining.  Seemed like a good time to try for some more channel cats!  Brought out the usual gear, except I also took my rain suit and some prepped field corn to chum a bit.

I decided to try a different spot from the little point I’ve been favoring of late.  A large, open area 50 yards down and to the right from the house.  My first job was to pull up the multitudinous two-foot grass stalks growing near the edge.  After a few minutes, I had cleared about a three-foot section of bank for fishing.  Then I threw out a half-dozen handfuls of prepped deer corn to get the fish activated and, hopefully, feeding!

I spent the next hour or so casting golf ball-sized (or a little larger) elastic cloth bags of chicken livers upwind, then watching as they were gradually blown from left to right.  I tried fishing them about three feet deep out in the middle, and I tried fishing them two feet deep closer in to shore.  I did get some dinks and bobs, and a few half-hearted takes, all of which I suspect were turtles pecking away at the sacks of liver, as I never hooked anything on any of my hook sets.

While fishing in closer (and shallower), I got what looked like a real (fishy) take.  I set the hook and immediately suspected a large snapping turtle had taken the bait.  Sure enough, I had hooked a good 15 to 20 pounder.  I quickly netted it, then cut the line as close to its head as I dared—of course, with its head somewhat bound up in the net for safety.   Plopped it back into its watery home, then decided to change things up.

Since I had to tie on another hook anyway, I decided to switch to a #6 treble hook (my go-to for channel cats when fishing punch bait) and start fishing punch bait about a foot deep and closer (5-10’) to shore.  My first cast produced my first real take of the day, and, after a nice battle, I netted the nicest channel cat I’ve caught in a while—a tad under 3 and-a-half pounds!  Snapped a couple pix, released him, and got my baited line back in the water.

I continued fishing a foot deep and close to shore, and it proved to be a more successful strategy.  I ended up hooking five channel cats and banking four—one dropped off as I was lifting it from the water.  When they are smaller than a pound, I usually don’t bother with the net; I just gently lift them out.

By staying continually attentive to my float and quickly striking on any take, I was able to avoid gut-hooking any fish.  All were hooked in the side of the mouth and the hook was relatively easy to remove with a pair of needle-nose pliers that I keep in my tackle box for that purpose.

I probably fished until about 8 PM—a good 45 minutes into darkness—with the aid of three strategically placed 1/8” silicone bands holding a 2” glow stick to the float’s top stem.  The bite was pretty good; I was getting a fish every cast.  Of course, sometimes I’d have to wait 5-10 minutes for a take, but I was happy with the pace of the action.

My night of catfishing fun ended abruptly when a bad bird’s nest developed near my reel after a cast.  Unfortunately, it could not be untangled without cutting the line.  Having done so, and having retrieved my rig out of the water by hand-winding, it was time to quit for the evening.

My rain suit did come in handy.  Not a half-hour into my sortie, it started to drizzle lightly, then a little more heavily—heavy enough to don my rain pants and jacket.  The rain proved to be intermittent during my entire time out, but I was glad nonetheless for the protection.

Still seeking that elusive 12-pound trophy channel cat.  I guess I’ll just have to keep at it and keep trying new spots until he/she eventually happens across my bait!

Can't get no...catisfaction!
This afternoon I tried in the neighborhood lake for big channel cats with chicken livers in Surgilast under a slip float. In two hours of fan casting and drifting , I only caught one small channel cat and one small bullhead. Tried fishing shallow (about 2' deep), then tried fishing deeper (3' deep with a lake depth of around 4'). Both of the fish were caught fishing deeper. I evenutally got bored fishing with the chicken livers, so I switched to a treble hook and punch bait. Caught 3-4 dink channel cats and a half-dozen turtles. Disappointing. I was fishing a little point I've fished a lot lately for both carp and channel cats. I guess next time I try a different spot!

Slip Float Ice Breaker

For the last month or so (ever since I heard about a 20-pound channel cat being caught out of our lake…), I’ve had a renewed desire to try and catch a trophy channel cat (12 pounds in Virginia).  I’ve tried a half-dozen times, fishing punch bait under a sensitive float.  I’ve caught numbers (eleven in one of my sessions), but the quality hasn’t been there—my largest this summer was around four pounds.

After reading an article by trophy channel cat hunter Daris McKinnon and watching some YouTube videos of folks catching big channel cats using slip float rigs and chicken livers, I’ve been really anxious to try for some bigger cats using this technique.  Daris shared in his article a great technique for hooking chicken livers (notoriously slimy, flimsy, and difficult to keep on a hook) using Surgilast, an elastic wound dressing.  You cut a piece 3” or so, hook it three times through one end, insert the chicken liver, then hook the other end of the Surgilast three times as well to secure the liver inside a nice stretchy cloth sack.

Having received my Surgilast a week or so ago and having picked up a tub of chicken livers at Food Lion a couple of days ago, all I was lacking was the requisite slip floats.  I ordered some nice ones from Amazon a couple of days ago, but they weren’t due to arrive for several more days, so at 6 PM I quickly ran up to Walmart to see if they had any.  Fortunately, they did have a few left in a clearance bin.  I got two nice Thill slip floats for $0.50 each (plus a weighted split Styrofoam one just for good measure).

Back home, I gathered my tackle bag, Ugly Stik, net, and chicken livers and headed out to a spot I’ve tried once without success, but wanted to try again.  It’s a point near a large open area where three arms of our neighborhood lake all converge.  As far as I know, this is the deepest part of our neighborhood lake at around 6-7 feet deep.  My hope was to lure some larger channel cats out of this deeper area.

Long story short: I fished from around 7 PM until close to 11 PM.  I mostly fished around 5’ deep, but I also tried casting to showing fish chasing baitfish near the surface, fishing only about 2’ deep.  I caught two small bullheads, and one large one—I’d say around a pound-and-a-half, with a fat tummy.  No channel cats for the second time fishing this spot.  I guess next time I’ll go back to the little point I’ve been favoring of late—although they were small, at least there seem to be good numbers of channel cats present, and, where there are little ones, there are probably larger ones too.

I did see carp cruising and feeding in the margins, and a lot of bait fish (and larger fish chasing them).  Also got to see several muskrats cruise by in the darkness.  A neighborhood cat stood 15’ behind me and checked me out for a while.

I’ve still got some learning to do about exactly how and when to set the hook when slip bobber fishing for channel cats.  I had a lot of dips and bobs that I think were turtles.  All three of the catfish took the float under and ran with it.  Sometimes a turtle will pull the float under, only for it to re-emerge again in a second.   As a result, when my float disappeared, I started counting “1000, 2000” before tightening up and setting the hook.  By doing so, I kept my rig in position without prematurely jerking it and spooking whatever is around.  I have a feeling that when a big cat takes the bait, they will grab it and run, so it will not be hard to tell. 

It was nice to try a new technique—slip bobbers.  These are a nice way to be able to float fish pretty much at whatever depth (within reason) you’d like without trying to cast an overly lengthy rig.  They have a little more weight than the puddle chuckers I’ve been using for carp, plus they can support the larger chicken liver bait without sinking under its weight.  I also enjoyed trying out the Surgilast—it works like a charm—a quick and easy way to keep chicken livers secured to the hook.  Lastly, it was very enjoyable, on a Friday night, to fish a bit longer evening session without feeling that I needed to come in pretty soon after dark.  I’ve been wanting to fish a longer evening session all summer long, and it was nice to finally do so.

I will continue to try out and refine my slip bobber and chicken liver (or cut bait) techniques.  Maybe sometime this fall I’ll even land that elusive trophy channel cat!

PS  On the walk back to the car, I once again narrowly averted walking into and/or through a wood spider’s web.  Since it was so late, this web was complete—a perfect orb with its maker perched smack-dab in the middle, waiting for a hapless flying victim to chance into its sticky trap!  This web was about two feet in diameter, fairly small as wood spider webs go.  Fortunately, the trusty head torch showed it up before I walked into it (plus I hold both my fishing rod and net out in front of me so as to intercept any web before I walk through it face-first!).  Home again, home again, jiggity jig!

Cat-astrophe and Epiphany

How do I like to relax?  This time of year, fishing is the main way.  Only a few more weeks of warm summer-like weather and long evenings to make fishing the neighborhood lake an easy choice when I have two or three hours at the end of a long day.  After two services at church, lunch, and a nice nap, it looked like the rain had abated sufficiently to attempt a short session.

Today I decided to target channel cats again, but that plan didn’t bear much fruit.  In about two hours of casting punch bait under a float all over my little point, I only had three dinks to show for it.  I tried near, far, deep, shallow—all to no avail—cat-astrophe!

While I was keeping the turtles occupied with floating trout chow, after a while, I notice the odd carp breaching and sucking up the chow along with the turtles.  After trying so long and hard for catfish, boredom set in, but I was too tired and lazy to start all over from scratch rigging another rod.  I couldn’t floater fish for the carp, because the turtles were too numerous to make that possible in the chummed area.  I decided, on a lark, to try fishing some dough balls under the float by squeezing bread around the hook, figuring there were carp swimming all around underneath that floating chow.  Sure enough, on the first cast, within seconds the float disappeared!  A nice battle resulted in a nearly seven pound specimen—the largest I’ve caught out of this lake this summer (and about the second largest I’ve ever caught out of it)!  It didn’t take long for a second take—this time an almost four pounder!  I told God I thought I could be content with one more, and, within a minute or two, another take, which resulted in another nearly four pounder.  Unfortunately, I didn’t know my own heart—I wasn’t content with that one more, rationalizing that I would finish off the one piece of bread I had left.  I should have left when I said I would, as several casts yielded only a 10-pound snapping turtle.  I had to cut the line, as the hook was attached to those dangerous, powerful jaws.  Attempting extraction would be foolish.  Turtle released and digits intact, I packed away my tackle and gear and headed home in the dark of 8:30 PM.

Whenever I walk the 100 yards or so home in the dark, I always use my head torch and hold my rods and net out in front of my face.  Why?  During the summer, wood spiders are common in our neighborhood—you know, those big, red spiders that emerge every night at dusk to begin constructing their large (can be in excess of three feet in diameter) webs across whatever open space they take a fancy to.  I think that would be one of my worst nightmares—walking into one of those huge, sticky webs and knowing that big spider was probably crawling on me somewhere—ugh!  Up until tonight, I haven’t seen one on my after-dark walks home this summer, but tonight I had a close call.  Almost home—in fact, right at our next-door-neighbor’s fence, I almost walked into one busily building its nightly trap!  Fortunately, the head torch showed it up a little to my left, so I was able to skirt it by stepping a couple feet to the right—whew!  Heart attack averted!

Carp on bread dough balls under a float—who knew?  Epiphany!

Stalking—Yes!

Every morning recently, as I get up for work, I look out of my second-story bedroom window onto the neighborhood lake and see the ripples of carp “clopping” on the surface close to the near shoreline.  I’ve been wanting to get out at that time of morning (around 7 AM) and see if I could successfully stalk one of those cloppers.  This morning I got my opportunity.

After rising at 4 AM in hopes of an early-morning longer (4 hours or so) session where the 20-pounders swim, I decided against it, as there were thunderstorms predicted from 9:30 AM on.  Instead, time in the scriptures and prayer until about 6:45, then I decided to do a quick (< 1 hour) stalking session in the lake behind the house.

I decided to free line (bare hook only) a chunk of fake bread floating on the surface, planning to chum with pieces of the real thing.   The 12’ crappie pole loaded with a 6-lb. test monofilament ultralight spinning reel was the outfit of choice—the extra length helps lower the floating offerings in small openings near shore without getting too close and spooking the quarry.

It didn’t take long to find a clopping carp.  Concealed behind a shoreline evergreen, I carefully lowered my bait nearby and threw out a few pieces of bread.  After waiting ten minutes or so, that carp never reappeared, so it was time for a move.

Fifty yards down the bank, I spotted another carp’s back breaching the surface, just inches off the bank.  Fortunately, there was a nice, big Pampas Grass plant to hide behind.  Same procedure, but this time, after a few minutes, I began to see carp starting to very timidly take my bread piece offerings.  It took about twenty minutes of feeding and waiting before one of the carp made a pass at my fake bread.  I lifted the rod to set the hook, but missed my target!

With my fake bread still intact, I stealthily lowered it back into place and threw out four or five more pieces of bread around it, staying concealed behind the foliage.  After another ten minutes or so, first swirls, then more timid takes, as a few carp started slurping up the bread surrounding my fake piece.  Would they take it?  Would they detect the difference and avoid it?  My questions were answered quickly, when I clearly saw a carp breach and suck in my floating bait.  I lifted my rod tip to set the hook, and, this time, felt the weight of a nice fish.

This carp fought like no other I have ever hooked.  Usually they make a screaming initial run out into the middle of the lake, followed by swimming from left to right, punctuated by runs here and there.  This fish never ran; it kind of just lazily swam around nearby.  It never did run more than a few yards at a time, and, even though it wasn’t far from shore, it still took five minutes or more to gently guide it into the net.

Safely up on the bank, I discovered a solid hook hold, which, however, I was able to remove with only my fingers—no needle-nose pliers required this time.  My piece of fake bread was nowhere to be found—small loss for such a beautiful golden prize!  I quickly snapped a couple pics, then gently released my catch to bite and fight another day.

Fulfilled for the moment, I collected my rod, stalking bag, and net, and trudged back home to start in on the day’s work.

No fluke!  But “Yes” to a bullhead and two carp!

After work and picking up the obligatory Friday night Baconator from Wendy’s for my son Samuel (Our family has a custom of fast food on Friday nights, but my wife and daughter were eating elsewhere and I’m trying not to eat at fast food restaurants anymore in the interest of lowering my fat and triglyceride intake.), it was 7 PM—just enough time for a quick evening session in the neighborhood lake.

I quickly found myself perched in my favorite spot of late—a little point where I’ve caught both channel cats and carp of late.  The first order of business was to bait up a bit while getting rigged up.  I threw out a half-dozen handfuls of floating trout chow to my right in order to hopefully attract and hold turtles.  After doing that, I threw three generous handfuls of prepped (soaked and boiled) deer corn about 20’ off shore to hopefully attract some finny denizens.  I thought I remembered that my rig, after my earlier-in-the-week’s fishing, was somewhat twisted.  Checking it more closely, it was indeed twisted and had several nicked places in the monofilament, so I cut back a good 3’ or so and re-rigged with a loaded puddle chucker (clear plastic, weighted waggler float) about 4’ above a small split shot pinched onto the line about 1” from the hook, with a #10 (small) Korda Krank hook baited with the same kernel of plastic Evolution Carp Tackle corn I’d caught on earlier in the week.  Of course in the few minutes it took me to get re-rigged, the hard-shelled folk had shown up in numbers (a good half-dozen to dozen) and required continual feeding in order to keep them away from my planned fishing spot.

It didn’t take but a minute or so after the first cast to get an immediate take.  Set the hook and felt the fight of a fish, but not a carp.  After a brief tussle, I landed a small (3/4 lb.) bullhead (small catfish), unhooked it, and quickly released it.

I didn’t have to wait too long after the next cast before my float started moving off again—this time I tightened into a nice carp and the battle was joined—that is, until the hook pulled after a minute or so!  Fiddlesticks!  Thereupon I checked my hook to see if it was still good and sharp, and it was, so I re-cast and waited and watched again.

In a few minutes I had another take, but this one turned out to be a turtle, which, fortunately for me, managed to come unhooked before I got it to shore.

By this time, it was getting dark enough that I had to rubber band a small (2”) glow stick to my float to be able to see it adequately.  After a quick re-cast, I didn’t have to wait but about five minutes for another take.  This time I tightened into a heavy-feeling fish, which took off on a nice first run.  The back-and-forth battle took a good five minutes, but eventually a beautiful almost-four-pounder found its way into my waiting net.  A quick unhooking and picture were followed by a quick release.

As with the others, my next cast was pretty quickly rewarded with another take.  As with the previous fish, this one fought well, swimming from side to side and running often before finally tiring and succumbing to the net.  This one was, once again, securely hooked.  Another quick pic and an equally quick release.

On my next cast, I told myself that I could be content with one more carp, then call it a night, but it wasn’t to be.  After casting, when I tried to reel in to sink my line (This is done to keep the wind and waves from bowing the line and pulling the float out of the desired position.), I could not.  I looked down at my reel to discover a pretty colossal tangle.  It quickly became obvious that this bird’s nest was not going to be untangled without cutting the line.  So I reluctantly pulled in my float and rig by hand, set them aside on the grass nearby, then proceeded to cut out the aforementioned tangulation!  At this point I decided it was time to go in.  I am contemplating an early morning session tomorrow morning, so cutting my losses (pun intended) seemed prudent, if a bit disappointing.  Salvaged all my rig components, put all away by the light of my head torch, and walked the 100 yards back to my back gate.

For me, this was certainly one of the better ways to spend a summer’s Friday evening after a work week.  Apparently catching carp (and even bullheads) on these artificials was no fluke after all.  Confidence is continuing to build!