It Was An Angry Sea That Day My Friend

Well the weather man (who shall remain nameless...and ignorant) on the television the other day said that the wind would be calm and it shouldn't play a factor in the days activities.  Apparently this joker doesn't fly fish because it was NOT calm and it DID play a factor in my day's activities, but not all were negative.  I had to run and errand and pick up some camping gear that I am going to need this week (more on that at another time) and it just so happened that one of my favorite farm ponds was in the immediate vicinity.  There was a chop on the water but since I didn't have much time to fish, I had to deal with it rather than wait it out.  I tried out my usual spots and caught about 4 bass (all small) and then hit the windswept banks.  My dad used to always tell me that the wind blows the baitfish in to the bank.  I have since learned that he is partially correct.  I recently learned that the wind actually blows plankton towards the bank, which the small fish feed on, which steers them toward the bank.  Naturally, the larger fish feed on smaller fish which in turn brings them to the party as well.

Anyway, when I arrived at the aforementioned bank, it looked like a minefield.  The wind has also blown patches of algae and hydrilla to the bank as well.  I had to plan my casts carefully or end up towing in huge patches of gunk and grass.  I landed a couple more small bass and was thinking that it was about time for me to head out but I thought a few more casts were in order.  I was throwing The Brave and working it through some patches when I felt a solid thud.  I set the hook and saw a large forked tail rise out of the water and give a defiant slap.  The beast didn't jump and didn't even come close to the surface.  Instead, it felt like he was trying to burrow to the land of China.  After wearing out the fish and collecting about a half acre of aquatic vegetation on my fly line and leader, I finally got my hands on the whiskered rascal.

He went a little over four and a half pounds and topped out at about 22 inches.  He wasn't the biggest catfish that I've ever caught but it was just a nice reminder about how much fun fishing is here in Missouri.  I wasn't go after catfish and certainly didn't plan on catching one on a bass fly, but hey, that's sometimes the fun part.  You never know what is going to happen next, and on a farm pond in Missouri, you don't know what you are going to catch.  Now, if we can just get weathermen as excited about our sport, maybe we can get some better data on the idiot box.