FISH TALES
Man Vs. Cat
CAPTION: In the February, 1999, issue of "North
American Fisherman" magazine, look for this Fish Tales article,
Man Vs. Cat, on page 48.
 When Jeff, my regular fishing partner, invited me on a trip to
one of our favorite "honey holes," I didn't think twice about
accepting. Within an hour I was at his house to pick up him and
his three young sons.
From shore we began by catching bluegills which, in turn, would
become bait for bass. Although we did catch a few largemouths, the
boys wanted me to show them how to catch bigger fish.
I picked up my 8.5-foot, heavy-action baitcasting outfit,
strong with 12-pound mono, picked out a fat gill, baited the hook
and made a nice long cast. Within minutes, line started peeling
off the reel with tremendous speed and power. When I engaged the
reel and set the hook, the rod nearly jumped out of my hands.
Things happened so fast, and the fish was so powerful, that I
didn't have time to adjust the drag. I had to run toward the bank
to release the pressure. The line continued to rip off the reel
and all I could do was watch it leave.
Looking down, I saw what I guessed to be only about 50 feet of
line left on the spool. So, going for broke, I clamped down on the
drag. This slowed the fish and finally stopped its progress.
At that moment, two things became clear. This wasn't any bass,
and the fish was stuck on something on the bottom. Try as I may, I
couldn't gain an inch of line. Handing the rod to Jeff, I told him
I was going in after it. I wasn't about to lose that trophy,
whatever it was.
I peeled off all my clothing except my boxers, grabbed the line
and waded into the water. I swam out about 75 feet from the shore,
and as I treaded water I could feel the fish shaking its head
through the tight line. I knew I was right on top of her. Gulping
a big breath of air, I dove toward the bottom. What I saw was
gigantic, about 4 feet long, and somewhat frightening.
I swam back up for more air and yelled to Jeff that it was a
huge catfish and it was stuck in the hydrilla.
Still holding the taut line, I dove back down and was finally
successful in dislodging the fish from the vegetation. This freed
up the line and now the big cat was on the move again, pulling me
toward the surface.
Once one top, I grabbed a quick breath as I was pulled for 10
feet or more before the catfish stopped again. Even in my
predicament, I was awed by the sight of that fish finning on top
of the water.
Doing my best to stay afloat while getting control of the
monster, I gently reached my right arm over its broad back and
slid my left hand into its mouth. Bad move. She clamped down hard
on my hand and there was nothing I could do to remove it while
treading water.
Luckily, the fish was as tired as I felt, and content to go
along for the ride as I kicked toward shore -- my hand still
firmly pinned in its jaw.
About five feet from Jeff's outstretched arms, I lost my grip
on the cat and, sensing its freedom, the fish made a half-hearted
attempt to escape. Panic and adrenaline took over. I mustered what
strength I had left, dove under the water, and grabbed the fish
once more. When I got close to shore, I pushed it into Jeff's
waiting arms.
Exhausted, the only thing I could do was roll onto my back and
try to catch my breath, while Jeff's boys jumped up and down with
excitement.
After regaining my strength, I climbed ashore and grabbed my
big-fish tank (a large rubber tub) from the back of my vehicle. I
also picked up my scale, measureing tape and camera as I wanted to
document every vital statistic on the big cat.
The readout on the electronic scale jumped around, then settled
at 33 pounds! Not bad for 12-pound test! The tape I had only
stretched to 36 inches -- too short to measure the fish in one
shot -- so I had to improvise.
I cut and saved the first several feet of line (for
certification purposes), then cut another chunk the exact length
of the fish. Measuring the line, we determined the big cat to be
45 inches long. Its girth was 23.5 inches.
Releasing the fish gave me an incredible feeling. To see that
cat swim off and know it would live to fight again, was a moment
in my life that I'll never forget. And neither will the three
young boys who saw how it was caught.
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