First Time Cats

by: Tom Sorenson

One of the many great things about growing up around the outdoors is that a good portion of the family – even the extended family – loves the outdoors, too.  Enter my aunt, Mari.  I don’t know how long I’ve known that Mari liked to fish, but what I never realized was that her passion for fishing was serious!

Mari was living in Southern California during my growing up years, so I guess I just never got to know that side of my aunt.  This last Wednesday, she was visiting her dad – and if you can figure it out, he’s also be my grandpa – and they were concocting a plan to catch some catfish.  Mari, despite her love for fishing, had never caught anything except a trout.  Which is a little bit like saying, “Well, I love rifles, but I’ve only shot a Weatherby Mark V Accumark.”  Well, Grandpa and I decided that on Thursday, we would round up the troops and we’d head to Brownlee Reservoir to catch some bass, and hopefully, a catfish or two.

The troops ended up being myself, Grandpa, Grandma, Mari, and my wife.  Shanna is still in limbo between being an Oregon resident and an Idaho resident, so she doesn’t have a fishing license yet - and yes, she’s suffering from fishing withdrawls!  Grandma has always been more content with her camera, so they entertained each other, while Grandpa, Mari, and I were hoping to entertain some fish.

When we showed up at the water, the carp were feeding in the shallows, and I wished I’d brought a fly rod to try my hand at hooking one.  We set up where Brownlee Creek flows in to the reservoir as the hot weather has chased most of the fish into these cooler pockets of water.  I set Mari up with my dynamite lure – the Classic Vibrax Blue Fox.  That thing is an old standby, and it never fails to catch fish…namely, bass.  Big bass.  I tied on a shad colored diver and Grandpa got rigged up to fish off the bottom - he was determined to catch a big catfish!  Mari’s first cast resulted in a fish!  It was a crappie.  Soon, we found out we had found a crappie hole.  Just about every cast was resulting in a crappie as soon as the lure hit the water - and while they’re mighty good tasting, crappie are hardly what I’d call fierce fighters.  Mari was ready to move on to something a little tougher!  I was determined to catch a bass, so I left to get closer to the inlet while Mari rigged up to fish for catfish with Grandpa.

 
Mari’s first cat.  Note the crappies – we could have filled several buckets full of them if we’d wanted!

I was having fun catching small bass and a ton of crappie, but I was patiently waiting for that big smallie that I knew had to be around somewhere.  I was casting near the mouth of the creek when something heavy finally hit!  Almost immediately, it was obvious that it was not a bass, however.  It had no fight whatsoever, and when I got it close, I saw that it was a foul hooked carp.  I released the fish and headed back up the cove to deeper water.  When I looked over at Grandpa and Mari, I looked just in time to see Mari reeling in her first catfish.  Meanwhile, I kept trying for that elusive monster bass.

A couple hours rolled by and all I could entice were small bass around ten inches and crappie that would lay on their side while I drug them in without any fight.  Knowing I’d not be in much of a mood for filleting, I opted to start releasing the crappie.  But, who was I to complain – this was a great day in my book!  Eventually, I gave up my attempt to catch that big bass as the sun began to fade.  It was getting time to try for the big cats.

I rigged up and plopped my bait out with the others.  Now it was time for the real fishing to begin – sitting on the bank chatting idly with my aunt and my grandpa…I’m pretty sure it doesn’t get better than that.  No worries, nothing to stress about – just family, fishing poles, and the peaceful canyon.  Grandpa was getting into the bass at this point as he was fishing with a worm off the bottom in hopes that a big bass would come along if a catfish didn’t find it first.  Instead, he caught many of those ten inch bass that I’d been wading through.

 
Grandpa with one of the many small bass caught on the day.

Mari was quizzing Grandpa and I about how to set the hook on a catfish among other things and I was trying to explain how difficult it can be to know just the right time to set the hook when all of a sudden her pole started heading for the drink!  She reached out and picked up her pole and decided that she didn’t need to ask us any of those questions any more.  I was quickly realizing how little I knew about fishing – it seemed that every piece of advice I had to offer was quickly proven to be wrong moments later.  That’s the way fishing seems to go, isn’t it?

Mari’s second catfish – there’s just nothing to it!

As the fishing slowed down a little, Mari headed for a place around a little knob where she was out of sight.  My wife came down and joined Grandpa and I at the water as Grandma took one of our two cars and headed home – she saw the writing on the wall that this was going to be a late night.  The three of us were sitting on the bank staring as if we were in deep thought or in complete confusion – take your pick – at our poles when we heard Mari’s voice come floating over the knob, “Net, please!”

I grabbed the net and began running in that direction.  When I showed up, Mari’s smile told the entire story.  She was having a blast!  I waded out into the water and as the fish would make a run I’d glance back at my aunt as the line started to sing and she was beaming.  I’m not sure if I’ve ever witnessed such pure joy so clearly written on someone’s face – and it just made me all the more glad to have shared in the day with her.  I finally corraled the fish, and what I pulled out of the water was the nicest channel catfish I’ve seen caught from the Snake River – it was a dandy!  I’ve seen some real nice blue cats come out of that river, but this was as big a channel cat as I’d seen.

 
Mari’s big channel cat.

Mari ended up catching one more cat before we called it a night – or at this point, morning - and after the truth came out, it was revealed that Grandpa had actually hooked the first cat and handed the pole to her.  So that made one cat for Grandpa, three for Mari, a whole bunch of blackberries picked by Grandma and Shanna….and me?  Well -

I’m still waiting.