Catfish, the bane of many anglers, are lovable characters, if you give them half a chance.
By TERRY TOMALIN
Published June 13, 2003
[Times photo: Ken Helle]
5-year old Luke Wichman caught a nice, slimy catfish while preparing for the upcoming Father's Day tournament, where a tagged catfish is worth $50,000.
TAMPA - Loren Rhoads swore me to secrecy.
"If you won't tell anybody, I won't tell anybody," he said.
There was nothing to be ashamed of, I told my host. King mackerel anglers routinely "prefish" before a big tournament.
"I know," he said. "But nobody prefishes a catfish tournament."
Rhoads' friend and angling partner Clark Wichman disagreed.
"Why not?" said Wichman, a man who has spent time traveling on the Southern Kingfish Association tournament trail. "Fifty thousand dollars is $50,000."
True. And some lucky angler may just hit it big Saturday if he or she catches the one tagged catfish lurking somewhere out in Tampa Bay.
"That is quite a prize," said Rhoads, who helped resurrect the Father's Day tournament three years ago. "If I was a kid and caught a fish like that, I'd be happy."
But the Father's Day Catfish Tournament isn't just for kids anymore. Anyone can enter, and even veteran anglers such as Wichman and Rhoads will compete.
"You just have to think like a catfish," I told my angling companions who were approaching our prey as if it were a sportfish.
Although it plays a valuable role in the marine ecosystem, the gafftopsail catfish, a k a sailcat, is the bane of Gulf Coast anglers. Tarpon fisherman "soaking" dead shad on the bottom often catch these bottom dwellers by accident.
Anglers often catch and kill the sailcat, calling it a "trash fish" because it will foul a leader and line with a thick mucus, further adding to the fishermen's frustrations.
But if anglers look at Bagre marinus objectively, they will see a species worthy of respect. The animal, perhaps one of the most prolific in Tampa Bay, is really an angler's dream. Toss a jig or piece of cut bait into any hole, and you're bound to pull out a nice, slimy catfish. All you need is something that stinks - the smellier the better.
"Just find a marina with a fish-cleaning table," I told Rhoads and Wichman, who are more accustomed to catching sportfish such as snook and red drum. "And I will guarantee you a sailcat in five minutes."
Rhoads and Wichman brought along some youngsters to help, because when it comes to catching catfish, kids have the magic touch.
My hosts had a livewell full of shrimp, a bait better suited for trout than sailcats.
"Don't you have any cutbait?" I asked. "Squid or sardines?"
Wichman produced frozen squid, which I opened and put on the deck so it could ferment in the sun. After it was oozing with juice, I cut it up into tiny pieces, which I sprinkled in the stagnant water beneath the fish-cleaning table.
"Now just wait about five minutes," I told 5-year-old Luke Wichman and 11-year-old Henderson Rhoads. "The catfish will smell that stinking squid and start running."
Luke looked at the mess of meat and asked, "Is that Squidward?"
No, I told him. Sponge Bob Square Pants' best buddy was safe down in Bikini Bottom, along with his friends, Patrick the Starfish and Sandy Cheeks, the surfing squirrel.
"I guess I watch too much TV," I told Rhoads and Wichman.
But if there are two things I know, they are cartoons and catfish. As if on cue, Luke and Henderson both had fish on.
"Double hookup!" I yelled.
Rhoads, who worked so hard to make the annual Father's Day tournament something special, smiled.
"That's great," he said. "It's all about the kids."
22nd annual Father's Day Catfish Tournament
WHAT: Join the hunt for the not-so-elusive scavenger Bagre marinus, commonly known as the gafftopsail catfish. Some lucky angler may catch a tagged catfish worth $50,000. All proceeds to benefit the Make-A-Wish Foundation and the Tampa Bay Wildlife Federation. Former Devil Rays slugger Wade Boggs, a member of the exclusive 3,000 hits club, will present the awards after the tournament. For more information go to www.suncoast.wish.org
WHEN/WHERE: 6 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday; Salty Sol Public Boat ramp, 600 Gandy Blvd., Tampa.
