Although the Mississippi River offers the best angling, big blue catfish can be found in many Magnolia State waters. Photo by Stephen E. Davis

The water flowed like fresh-washed oilcloth from one muddy bank of the Mississippi River to the other; big tow boats pushing strings of barges were the only disturbance in the distance. Our boat was anchored bow and stern close to a cut into the bank below a huge clearing on the shore that was filled with logs waiting for pickup to the sawmill.

Suddenly one of the four heavy-duty rods with the big saltwater reels bent like an arcing rainbow. Even with the drag set high, line clicked out rapidly. Jim Spencer grabbed the rod and gave it an awesome jerk, but our first catfish of the day swam leisurely off toward the main channel.

Gradually the fish slowed, sulking there at the bottom of the Mississippi River until he realized that something was preventing him from going where he wanted. He rested a minute as Jim commenced cranking back some of the line; then, the fish started pulling in earnest towards the deepest part of the river.

It became a slow battle, and one well fought on both sides. Jim and the behemoth on the bottom traded gaining line -- but overall, the catfish was winning. It became apparent that something would need to change presently if the reel wasn't to be emptied down to the knot at the spool, enabling the fish to escape with nothing worse to show for his misplaced hunger than a bit of lip jewelry; even that would come loose in a few days.

Then the battle seemed to turn, and the heavyweight on the bottom began yielding to the tugging from above. Gradually the large spool refilled with line. After another 15 minutes of disagreement, the fish was almost directly below the boat in about 8 feet of water. But the angler's best efforts could not seem to detach the balky creature from the bottom of the river.

"Keep the tension on him, boy," said Sid Riley, who was hosting the fishing trip and driving the old wooden johnboat. "He's about ready to come unstuck if you just don't give out."

Sweating buckets, Jim looked as if giving out wasn't far off. But after several more minutes the catfish allowed itself to be pulled up and alongside the boat, where Riley scooped him up in an oversized net.

When they got the big blue cat dumped into the tub that kept fish from sliming all over the boat, it was jammed up like a dog on a small circular cushion. The big galvanized washtub was in danger of turning over from the fish's thrashing. We figured that the cat weighed about 30 pounds, but it's hard to tell with something as dense and muscular as a blue catfish. (Not to mention that the estimate was made by an excited angler!)

The system that Riley used to put Jim on the boated cat was a simple one: A punctured can of Cozy Kitten cat food was tied to an overhanging branch about 10 yards upstream from our location. Our heavy rods were each spooled with 70-pound-test braided line; on each, a two-way swivel was about 3 feet from the big hook, where another line fastened to a 1-ounce weight was attached. The bait consisted of chunks of bologna and prepared catfish bait that we'd brought along to try. (That first big catfish had chosen the bologna.)