I don’t know if I mentioned it previously but I recently switched to a schedule that lets me out at 3:30 but requires that I work Saturdays. Kind of a bummer but I realized that the Thursdays that I have off are now Markdays. I can do whatever the hell I want, with no get togethers, functions, or plans the wife told me about three weeks ago that I totally forget about until the day of.
THEN I realized I have someone an hour and a half away who is retired and down to fish any Thursday I could possibly want:
|Sorry ladies, he’s taken. By my Grandma. So back off.|
So, I threw my Shakespeare Catfish Ugly Stik in the back of the Explorer first thing in the morning and headed up for day of catching tasty catfish.
Well, all Grandpa had in mind was tasty catfish. After my recent outing with my dad, I have a bit of the Carp Fever. When I asked if they had a spare can of sweet corn, I got a “why waste your time” look. Well about 5 minutes after we had anchored by the Dixon dam, my zinging drag and net-that-could-only-fit-half-the-fish gave the answer.
Grandpa caught a couple catfish, and then about 15 minutes later I had another carp bite.
Actually, that’s not accurate. I looked up to see my pole starting to get lifted off the bottom of the boat, I set the hook and it was ON. The fish took three runs of 30+ yards with my drag set as tight as the 20lb test mono would allow. We had to pull up the other three poles from the back of the boat to avoid tangles as the fish tore back and forth in the water. After a few minutes, I got it up to the surface but every time I’d start to net it, it was dash off another 10 yards or so. A couple tries and Grandpa took over the and we finally got her in.
|BTW, super bad choice to alter this shirt to sleeveless just because of a hole in the armpit. My arms are ultra burnt and still blistery.|
Not the 30lb monster I was expecting after the fight I experienced. (I can’t imagine how some of the pigs from Pondbass, Fly-Carpin, Carp on the Fly, or US Carp Pro Magazine fight.) Not shabby either though. I promise to bring my scale along on future carp trips to start documenting sizes.
That fish, although not massive, bent my #6 baitholder into some bastardized version of a circle hook. When I attempted to bend it back, it broke. Like a dork, I only grabbed my already-rigged pole and none of my tackle before the drive up. I tied on a #4 Aberdeen but it just wasn’t the same. For some reason, the carp wouldn’t touch the new hook. Too big maybe?
Anyway, the catfish weren’t biting in that particular spot so we pulled anchor and drifted about 50 yards to reanchor under one of the bridges with a good view of the town’s new waterfront.
We eventually pulled up anchor a couple more times before we got into the catfish. Lots of little ones. After a total of 4 hours, (Grandpa with 5+ keepers, me with 2, but who’s counting?) we just drove back and anchored 50 yards from Grandpa’s dock (He lives on the river, lucky guy) and proceeded to catch our two biggest fist of the day. (Mine was the biggest but who’s keeping track?) After a little bit and a few more catfish, we headed in to clean the fish for Grandpa and Grandma to eat later on.
All in all, 2 carp, 13 keeper catfish and a mess of little ones. A good outing with my grandpa. Something we’ll have to do more often, especially while I still have Thursdays off.