Autumn fishing for catfish on the city canal

The weather forecast promised milder temperatures, and Vadim and I couldn't resist. It was mid-October, and after the long cold spell, warmer days were finally here. We spontaneously decided to head off for a few days to a canal in the city that we already knew.

After arriving, we quickly set up camp and prepared our fishing gear. Vadim wanted to try for a carp, while I hoped for the next bearded predator. Before nightfall, we managed to outsmart a few bream.

I set out one bottom rod with an underwater float and bait 15 meters from the underwater edge. I brought the second catfish rod to the opposite bank by boat and attached the tension rig to a tree protruding from the water.

Night fishing for catfish

Evening fell very quickly. There were two bites on my catfish rod with the underwater float, but I couldn't hook a fish. Perhaps some zander were also eating the bait. We sat on the bank with Vadim, "tinkering" with our feeder rods and repeatedly pulling bream out of the channel. I predicted, as always, that there would be a bite at 7 p.m., but I was wrong. "Well then, as usual, at 11 p.m., give or take 20 minutes," I said, yawning.

We went to bed pretty early. Mid-sleep, I heard the bell ring. I slowly opened my eyes, still not quite sure what was happening. After a moment, I knew where I was: The rod with the "tension rig" was bending sharply and kept snapping back. It was clear that the catfish wasn't capable of breaking the ripcord. I jumped up from the bed, grabbed the catfish rod, and set the hook! I felt a strong resistance at the end of the line.

A few minutes later, a small catfish wriggled in the flashlight. By eye, it was about 140 cm long! Since I haven't been on any serious catfish hunts this year, this "teenager" immediately woke me up. I was really happy! Especially since the biggest fish I'd caught in this canal this summer wasn't bigger than 120 cm. The clock read 10:57 p.m.

In the rain

I tossed and turned all night, didn't fall asleep until morning, and slept until 10 a.m. The morning, like the entire following day, was very unfriendly: It rained incessantly! The wind died down every now and then, only to pick up again so strongly that it created whitecaps on the not-so-wide canal.

We had to spend the whole day in the tent, bored and talking about various topics. On the bottom rod with the underwater float, I had three bites all day, but again without success. Perhaps it was because I hadn't used a rock with a ripcord as a weight, but instead used a sliding rig with lead. Most likely, though, other predatory fish or very small catfish were also biting. Finally, at dusk, the rain let up. I took advantage of the break and quickly put out two rods. This time, both were guyed down.

The renewed night hunt for catfish

Although we had been sitting and lying all day, as soon as it got dark, we became sleepy again and went to our tents. It was a starry night, the wind had died down, and the silence was broken only by the noise of the highway and the city, which lay behind the row of trees on both banks of the canal. Although civilization is everywhere, fishing in the city still has a certain romance.

I slept restlessly, waking at every rustling sound. By 1:00 a.m., there were three catfish "attacks" and a few cautious bites on one of the rods. They were probably small catfish. Luckily, the ripcord didn't break, and the baitfish stayed on the hook. Then it fell silent, and I finally fell fast asleep.

I was awakened by a distinctive, sharp sound as the bell hit the rod blank! I jumped out of my tent in a flash and saw that the catfish had reared up and the line was slack! I quickly reeled in the slack line, felt the resistance, and set the hook! I felt an incredible weight at the end of the line! But it only lasted a second or two—the fish was gone! Based on the bite and the feel after the hook, I knew the opponent hadn't been small. I looked at my watch: it was 3:00 a.m.

The fight with a well-fed catfish

My sleep was short-lived, as I heard the familiar ringing again. I opened my eyes and saw the rod bend into an arc and then abruptly snap back: The 0.40 mm thick ripcord had snapped! With an immediate strike, I felt those pleasant, powerful strikes from the depths!

My opponent was anything but weak and made me sweat as he repeatedly rose to the surface to slap his tail against the water's surface! Meanwhile, Vadim had arrived. On the shore, the catfish didn't give up at all! He shook his head, lashed his tail, and refused to let Vadim grab his jaw! In the end, as if on purpose, the catfish slammed his broad head against the dinghy and pierced it with his hook! He wasn't a giant, but he was surprisingly well-fed and had an incredibly broad back.

I didn't measure it so as not to cause unnecessary stress to the fish. The clock showed 5:00 a.m. I didn't put out any more rigs. It was enough for me to have confirmation that the location and tactics had been chosen correctly! I was very pleased with this result.

Both catfish were released as usual. Judging by their constitution, the canal offers all the conditions for them to grow into large specimens and produce healthy offspring. And so I set myself a new goal: to catch a truly large catfish in this inconspicuous canal, flowing amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Hardly any of the passersby suspect the adventures one can experience right in front of their homes.

Good fishing!

Vitali Dalke