MEMPHIS, Tenn. - The bend in the rod tip told James Patterson that the catfish
skulking near the bottom of the deep, muddy hole was big. When small cats (5-6)
pounds by Patterson's standards) go for the bait, the rod usually responds with a
nervous twitch. This rod tip had been creased into an arc. No bounce. No flex. The
bait was probably 60 feet deep and at least that far from the boat. Something strong
was messing with the 1-inch slice of fresh "skipjack" (river herring) that Patterson had
impaled on a 7/0 wide-gap hook.

"He's biting like a big fish," Patterson said. "That's a ...". Before he could finish the
thought, the rod made a violent jerk and the fight was on. "You got him," Patterson said
as I wrestled the rod from the holder. But for a few minutes it was more a question of
who had whom. The big fish moved toward the boat while I cranked furiously to take up
the slack line, not quite keeping up. Then it did an about-face and ran upstream about
30 yards as the drag grudgingly spit out the 20-pound-test braided line in fits and
starts.

These weren't the mad, frantic reel-screaming runs often exhibited by a Lake
Cumberland striper or Kentucky Lake largemouth. Catfish would rather tussle-
particularly big cats that have grown strong and surly in the powerful, free flowing
current of the lower Mississippi River. Tangling with one of these monsters is more
akin to a wrestling match. About all an angler can do is hold on and pray.

We kept the pressure on, and after about 10 minutes the fish finally broke the surface,
its saucer-size tail appearing first. It took one look at us, rolled and made two more
drag-grinding runs before Patterson corralled it with a net the size of a washtub. The
blue cat weighed 42 pounds and stretched the tape past 45 inches.

Patterson, 50, has been fishing the Mississippi for almost 20 years and recently opened
a guide service that he schedules around his job as a machinist at The Commercial
Appeal newspaper. He doesn't catch a monster every time out, but he hauls in enough
to make a 30-plus-pound catch more than a rarity. His heaviest to date is a 66-pound
blue cat. He usually releases larger fish and encourages customers to do the same
because the smaller ones generally make a tastier meal.

Fishing the lower Mississippi River is not for the faint-heated. It's nearly a mile to the
Arkansas shore. There are no dams or tailwaters, and barge traffic provides steady
company. The swirling current is powerful and unrelenting. When the river is rising (as
it was the day Patterson and I fished), you have to dodge floating brush and an
occasional log big enough to disable an outboard motor.

But the fish are here - big fish and big numbers of fish. "I've had some days where I
didn't catch a lot of fish," Patterson said, "but I've never been skunked." He does most
of his fishing from Memphis upriver to the Shelby Forest Wildlife Management Area, a
distance of about 20 river miles. He occasionally fishes below the I-55 bridge
downtown. That's where we caught the 42-pound blue, along with five smaller fish.

Patterson knows the river and its holes. This is particularly important for late-season
anglers because catfish patterns become predictable when water temperatures dip into
the 50s. He explained that the fish then l3end to move into the "scour holes" below the
rocks or channelization dikes (sometimes called wing dams) that dot both shores.
They'll also hold behind jetties and other structures that offer a break from the current,
remaining there to feed at the current break until March or April. "You can catch fish
year-round," Patterson said, "but for the big number, it's best in winter." "They'll winter
over here," he added, pointing to a stretch below an exposed dike. "I think fish come
here for shelter. And not just catfish, they'll be stacked in here, all kinds of fish."
Patterson takes catfish from above and below the channelization dikes, although most
action comes on the downstream side of the rocks. Catching 100 pounds of fish from a
single hole is not uncommon in the right water conditions.

On the best day he can recall, Patterson cranked in 320 pounds of catfish in about four
hours from a single hole. "And I bet I didn't catch half of what hit," he said. Fishing
success is strongly determined by the water level. Patterson says ideal conditions are
stable or falling water with the river level below 10 feet and the fishing gets tough.
When the river creeps above 15 feet, Patterson leaves the boat at home. This type of
angling demands heavy tackle. Patterson uses 7-foot stiff-spine rod with a flex tip, 20-
30 pound test line and up to a 7/0 large-gap hook. He uses a three-way swivel with a
trailing 3-ounce lead sinker to anchor the rig. When fishing below a wing dam, he
anchors his boat away from the channel break, then casts toward the break line where
fish are most likely to be feeding. Most of the fish he catches in late fall and early
winter are blue cats. He takes most of his flatheads in September and October.

Although the weather was ideal on this day, we were on the river in what Patterson
called "less than perfect" conditions. The river was at about 11 feet, rising and muddy.
Patterson prefers 4-inch shad for live bait and skipjack for cut bait. Catching bait isn't a
problem during the summer, but when water temperatures fall, baitfish vanish from the
surface. Cool weather sometimes forces Patterson to use frozen skipjack. We
managed to net about a half dozen shad - "enough to get started," he said. They
produced two quick catches, 12 and 8-pound blues. We later retreated to a slack-
water area sandwiched between a dike and a small island, where a few throws of the
net captured another two dozen shad and a 10-inch skipjack. Patterson saved the
skipjack gut for bait (which caught a 12-pound fish), but a chunk of the fresh skipjack
hooked the 42-pounder. We ended the day with eight fish but caught six in the last
hour from the same hole, including the big one. All were blue catfish - two 12-
pounders, one 13, one 8, one 6 and two 3-pounders. One fish broke off, and we
missed the hook set on three more. A typical day? "With high, muddy water like
today?" Patterson said "Yes."

Gary Garth, Special to The Courier-Journal, Outdoors, Louisville, KY Courier Journal
November 1998.