In pursuit of Oklahoma Catfish, obstacles rountinely snag success.

We bait arrived in OK on the 05 of May. After checking into the barracks at tinker, AFB. We asserted ourselves to a base pond since it was already somewhat later in the evening and located close to our rooms. My partner Phil has cat fished for many years and I am a novice still in training. Oh, the reason for this excursion was a nine-day training event for Navy First Class Petty Officers.

The week started out fairly uneventful. We caught a few ponders and some bait. Additionally, we found a few ideal spots for river catfish but either the fish weren't biting or we had the wrong bait. Incidentally, I could show you a great place to hunt ticks if you are into that. We drove and fished and drove some more, most nights not resting until early morning.

Things got stimulating on Thursday as a tornado made a "B" line to tinker. We were just preparing to fish that evening when we received hail and heard the sirens. It really didn't damage much of the base though I heard that the southwest perimeter fence was down. From our class location we can see the GM Building which revived significant damage, an entire wall was removed and we can see into the building. The GM plant is about 1/4 mile from where we are facilitating our course. There was some smoke Thursday evening in that area and I heard that an oil rig was completely tore out of the ground. Almost as quick as it started it was over.

As the sun winked its way behind the horizon we were once again fishing.

I guess this is kinda what fishin is really like: No bites.

As Friday came, there were concerns of additional thunderstorms and tornadoes. The fact is, we were determined to fish this spot of the North Canadian River near Jones Oklahoma. Shortly after laying our trap nightfall came and the river was silent except for the stir of fish and the water. It seemed you could feel rain begin to approach. Sporadically, the rain came and went and was fairly insignificant. In the distance a horn or siren wailed. I moved a little closer to the underside of the bridge to stay just a bit dryer. Selecting my new spot I was happy to feel tugs on my line.

Phil called me to the other side of the bridge where lightning was dominating the sky. It seemed that as soon as your eyes adjusted to the night the strobe light would blast you again with overwhelming candle watt power. We heard an emergency vehicle, probably an ambulance, pass the bridge. But I was fairly complacent as I nearly brought a gar in from the river contents. Phil was not nearly as careless as me and decided to check the radio for information.

The car was parked about 500 yards from our fishing spot but it seemed as if he made it there and back in record time. Grab what you can, we gotta go. Phil said there was another tornado heading for us. Quickly we darted with our gear to the car. We saw numerous police cars and decided to follow one to help us find our way to an area we were familiar with.

In hindsight we should have been less careless and we were lucky to survive our second big tornado in two days. The damage we have seen from each of the tornadoes was extensive and startling. I really have developed a respect for the focused fury of these tinker tornadoes.

Saturday lead moments of morning fishing still no catch worth keeping.

In the afternoon we scouted some other bridges crossing the North Canadian and decided where we were to spend the evening. As it turns out our best spot seems, to be near the bridge we duck from Friday’s destruction.

Saturday, Phil and I took Choctaw rood to wishire to the bridge we had scouted earlier. It seemed to be a perfect spot and nightfall had not settled in yet. We casted our lines from the steep bank and waited. Fortunately, no signs of tornadoes. We probably enjoyed our lull for mere minutes when a thunderstorm of fisherman joined us. While only three were in their party, they assaulted the riverbank like a runaway frieght train approaching town.

Phil managed to catch a carp probably four pounds or so. It was not enough to shadow our guests so we decided to move to another location closer to Harrah, OK. That was a bust as well cars were park in a line to fish there. So much for a quiet little fishing trip.

Tomorrow is Sunday and Mother's day, we will be trying our luck at the Cimarron River. in northwest OK.

We located an awesome spot on the Cimarron river. Fish were all over though it seemed mostly to be huge carp spawning. Our spot was on hwy 177 just outside Perkins. After trying to find minnows for several hours only to settle for night crawlers we settled down for some expected high excitement fishing. Likely all the bites we had were carp as the mostly got away long before they made it ashore. Phil did manage to catch a two pounder and a turtle and just as we were about to leave still feeling disappointed because of the long drive and lack of catfish, I got a hit. I managed to fight and wear the fish out in about 15 seconds. When I got it ashore it was a carp about 6 pounds or so nice enough for a Kodak moment. I will post pics later. Normally I would have jumped up and down and called the papers for an interview but it seems that carp are not typically eaten in the US. Apparently there are some tricks to cleaning and cooking it. I really despise release a 6 lb fish when I could eat it, but I did.

Monday we checked out a pond on tinker, which we had not previously, called fire pond. Caught bait fish and called it quits early.

As the sun sets on our fish story the fish are resting to fight another day. Tornadoes toy with local weather for-casters. In a few short days Phil and I will return to our families in San Diego.

Before I fade into the white space, I suggest some philosophical lessons learned.

1. Big Fish like Big Fresh Lively Bait.

2. Big fish protect themselves by sinking themselves into big holes and having smaller fish swim around them.

3. If you spend all your time chasing the next "perfect" spot you will catch very little.

I wish you the wisdom to see every single opportunity and the courage to refuse to let it pass.



May be reprinted with attribution to Mark C. Carroll (c)2003