— Brian Raleigh swung the stout fishing rod forward over his shoulder and the heavy bait-casting reel whirred as thick line peeled off the spool, arcing the bait against the sky.

In a large splash, the six-ounce sinker and wriggling seven-inch bullhead hit the water.

Scott Mackenthun followed suit and the two anglers settled back into their chairs last week as the chocolate-colored waters of the rain-swollen Minnesota River swirled and gurgled past their boat tethered to a tree snag.

An informal session of the Belle Plaine Cat League was now in progress.

Raleigh hails from Belle Plaine and works as a production supervisor at a Chaska medical supply company.

Mackenthun hangs his hat in New Prague and works as a fisheries technician at the Minnesota Department of Natural Resource’s Waterville Fish Hatchery.

Both are ardent fishers of catfish, the flathead catfish in particular.

“On my 21st birthday, instead of going to a bar, a friend took me out cat-fishing,” Mackenthun said of his introduction to the sport and species. After locating in New Prague for his DNR position, he noticed he was within a few minutes drive of no less than four access points to the Minnesota River and quickly made connections with other river rats, among them, Raleigh.

 “I was introduced to it by a couple of friends 11 years ago,” Raleigh said. “I wrinkled up my nose at the idea of fishing for cats but then somebody showed me a photo of a 40-pounder they caught.”

“My first flathead was a 10-pounder and I’ve been hooked ever since.” Both anglers since have landed fish in the 40-pound-plus range, further cementing their enthusiasm for the smooth-skinned, barbeled giants.

On this recent evening, the two were hoping to tie into some of these large and, they would say unappreciated, denizens of the muddy Minnesota’s deepest holes.

It would be hard to argue that a flathead catfish is pretty.

But then their real beauty goes beyond their smooth skin anyway.

Finicky eaters that demand live bait and tough fighters when finally hooked, they can grow to prodigious sizes.

Twenty-five pounders won’t raise an eyebrow. Forty-pounders, while not routine, are frequently caught. The Minnesota state record, caught on the St. Croix River in 1970, tipped the scales at a hefty 70 pounds.   

Earlier, the anglers had launched Raleigh’s River Pro boat, a wide, welded aluminum boat powered by a 120-horsepower jet drive, at the river access just west of Jordon.

Tailored specifically to catfish river fishing, the craft is able to plane in just a few inches of water and is equipped with an array of powerful spotlights to aid in navigating the river after dark when the catfish bite frequently is the best.

“The pre-spawn fishing is the most productive,” Mackenthun said, adding that flatheads typically spawn sometime in July after roaming widely, sometimes covering many miles.

“One fish caught and tagged by DNR crews in the Minnesota River as part of a flathead study eventually was caught in the Mississippi River by a commercial fishermen,” he said.

After the rigors of the spawn, and after a period of recovery, the fish settle down into an small area, a snag or deep river hole where they stay until they migrate to their wintering areas where they lie nearly dormant.

“The fishing is best when there’s low water,” Raleigh said with a nod to the brown water that had overflowed into the trees after this past week’s storms dumped heavy rain across southern Minnesota. “The water around here is up almost 15 feet from two weeks ago when we fished this spot.”

Nevertheless, come high water or not, their reasoning was that the cats still needed to feed. So tethered to a tree that had fallen in the river, they were fishing a bend in the river were during lower water periods, the rocky bottom created a series of rapids.

During  one of the formal sessions of the Belle Plaine Cat League when the 20 or so catfishing enthusiasts hit the river for a fishing contest — the rules say any water from Franklin to near Chaska is fair game — a few weeks earlier, Raleigh managed to pull a 40-pounder from the spot.

It’s all catch and release. “”When we catch one, we weigh it, measure it’s girth, take a couple pictures and then release it,” Raleigh said.

A fish that size, Mackenthun said, could be 25 years old or more, raising concerns about the build-up of unhealthy chemicals and contaminants for anyone contemplating keeping and eating such a fish anyway.

But more catfish anglers are taking a page from professional bass anglers and recognizing the value of practicing catch-and-release of such trophies, enabling them to be caught another day.

On this evening, as the light faded to twilight, then to darkness, it was clear that the flatheads likely were tucked deep into cozy snags somewhere to escape the roiling, swift river current.

At 11 p.m., they pulled their lines and prepared for the three-mile-ride back to the landing aided with the illumination of the two high-powered spotlights mounted on the bow.

Even the walleye, a non-target fish frequently caught during their catfish outings, were a no-show.

Using seven-inch bullheads, understandably, any walleye caught is likely to be a nice one.

“I once caught two 26-inchers back-back-back during a contest,” Mackenthun said. “I was a little disappointed because they weren’t worth any points.”

“We call walleyes white-tailed carp,” Raleigh said.



John Cross is a Free Press staff writer. Contact him at 344-6376 or by e-mail at jcross@mankatofreepress.com.