# Cats On The Fly....Sort Of..



## Dave Hadden (Jun 3, 2010)

So, now that I'm retired I need lots to do to keep me amused.
Sure, our birds take some time, yardwork takes some time, stacking next winter's firewood took some time, mowing the lawns takes some time as does doing most of the housework.........still........I find time for other things to do.

Recently I was wandering along the downtown Campbell River shoreline when I started watching a group of feral cats that live in and among the breakwater boulders on the foreshore.
I know some people feed them and try to look after them so I wasn't concerned about that, rather I saw an opportunity for some sport and I was concerned it wasn't being enjoyed.
I hurried home, dragged out my 14' 12 wt double hander and some good solid 60# test braided line to use as a leader.
I then visited a pal who raises chickens and had just slaughtered a dozen the day before.
"What did you do with the chicken heads?" I asked.
"They're over there," he responded. "Why?"
I quickly explained that I "had a good use for them" but didn't allow as to what use I meant.
He shrugged and waved me away, being busy with more important matters, so I helped myself to six nice chicken heads and left.

It was a simple matter to tie on a chicken head (no hook of course) and with but a few practise casts I found I could lay it out there nearly 80' as long as there was no wind.

The next morning, just before daybreak, I positioned myself about 60' away from the edge of the breakwater, worked out the required length of line and dropped a chicken head ever so delicately onto the landward side of the structure.
I waited a few seconds then twitched it.

The strike came quickly and even though there was no hook I found myself "setting" from force of habit so ended up pulling the bait away from the cat.
I quickly rolled out another cast and as quickly the cat pounced again.
Slowly I worked the line back towards me as the cat ravaged the bait, clawing and yowling and hissing and spitting.
It was a great battle, punctuated with rapid bursts along the ground between various aerial antics.
When it was within rods length distance I touched it with the rod which spooked it so I could then retrieve my bait.

Pleased with my success I worked out another cast and soon had another player attacking my offering.
I worked it in slowly also and once I'd touched it with the rod and scared it off I retrieved my now well worn chicken head.
Three more times I successfully cast, incited an attack and then carefully played in my hapless victim until it was considered caught.
By now I knew I was on to something although I wanted to keep it low key......for obvious reasons.

I told one friend, who swore to not tell anyone else.
I even gave him two of my chicken heads.

Two days later I arrived to find my friend, three of his friends and one of the local homeless guys who hangs out down there all laying out long casts with flyrods and using various parts of dead chickens as bait.
(There are still some arguments over which part of the chicken works best, but I avoid those like the plague and stick with the heads.)

Anyway, long story short, apparently I've developed a new "fishery" in Campbell River.
My only regret is that while I tried to instill a strong sense of catch and release amongst the new cat fishing crew, I've been told with some authority that one of the guys took home a tabby the other morning.

Now I feel all guilty.



Take care.


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## Wood Scrounge (Jun 4, 2010)

Fun story, when I read the title I thought you figured out how to get Catfish on a fly ( a pet project of mine for a few years) but this was better!


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## tree md (Jun 4, 2010)

Once upon a time I was doing storm work in rural Georgia. We had set up an old Jayco pop up camper at an old moonshine camp so we could remain where the action was at and camped out. This place wasn't too far from where I lived, I fished and hunted the area so I was familiar with it. It was actually a dump site where we made short dumps back in the day. Anyway, there was an old dismantled moonshine still and hundreds of old gallon milk jugs around, a few piles of railroad ties, tree debris and whatnot. There was even a homemade table nailed to a tree in the camp. This place had long been abandoned but it was a nice secluded place where we could camp and get some shuteye while we were working the area. 

The only problem was the feral cats. There was a multitude of them around the place. They lived in the cross ties that were piled around the camp. They would drive my lab bonkers. He would spend the night treeing the cats. I had a rip in the canvas around the door of the Jayco. It was old and was mostly used to set up at deer camp and to stay in when we traveled to do storm work. Certainly not a luxury liner. I had fried up some deer meat one night and had left the cast iron skillet on the stove burner without dumping the grease out of it. I was awakened in the wee hours that morning by my work partner screaming bloody murder from his bed on the other side of the camper. I looked up and saw one of the cats standing on the stove with it's hackles up and it's eyes appeared to be glowing red. The dog went crazy and the cat began ricocheting off of the canvas walls, bouncing back and fourth until it found the canvas rip and slipped out. It was a harrowing experience, I'll tell ya. My partner said when he woke up and saw the cat it looked like a grimlin and scared the #### out of him. I have to admit my heart was pumping pretty hard after the devil cat went bouncing off the walls...

We found a way to patch the canvas after that.


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## Dave Hadden (Jun 4, 2010)

Great story tree md.


Here's a pic of a typical feral.

These are the kind you should release.









And here's the kind you want to keep.
Good eating for sure.








And here's a spot I just found out about.
I've gotta give it a try.







Take care.


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## tree md (Jun 4, 2010)

My gosh, that cat in middle is huge!!!


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