HELENA-WEST HELENA — It was the Fourth of July, and it began well before dawn as I eased my truck out of the driveway and turned it east toward the Arkansas Delta. Roughly two hours later, I was parked in front of the Phillips County Sheriff ’s Office, dining on a couple of McDonald’s sausage biscuits and a Powerade as the sun peaked above the horizon line. Then, I slipped the truck across the levee and left the majority of civilization behind.
I watched some doves, a raccoon and other wildlife as I awaited the arrival of Tight Line catfishing guide Allen Goodwin. We were joined for this trip by David “Mountain Man” Mitchell of Searcy, a guide for Lindsey’s Resort in Heber Springs and Goodwin’s deckhand, and Mitchell’s lady love, Ronda Gansz.
Soon, the quarter-century old flatbottom and its twin outboard motors eased through the waters of the River Park bay as Goodwin threw a cast net in search of our bait for the day.
At first, the haul was sparse. Then the guide hit his stride and began flipping shad into the boat by the handful. At that rate, our departure from the bay was imminent, and we were headed downriver to our first stop.
Goodwin, of Kensett, a master mechanic with International Union of Operating Engineers Local 624 who works as a contract laborer on pipelines, began this sort of catfishing on the White River, not the Mississippi.
“I had heard about how they were catching fish around grain areas,” Goodwin said. “I found a place at Augusta on the White River and cut my teeth there. But, the season wasn’t long enough because of the water level getting low during the summer. So, I fished the Arkansas some and then heard about Jim Walden Port over here at Helena-West Helena.”
When the boat’s anchor grabbed the river bottom, Goodwin placed six rods at the back end of the boat, with Gansz manning the three outside poles cast toward the deeper water of the navigation channel. My three rods had bait sitting in the shallower depths more toward shore.
A handful of tippity taps came on my side, but nothing more. Then, Gansz’ outside pole bent sharply. She grabbed the rod from its rest and set the hook hard on what proved to be the big fish of the day - a roughly 35-pound blue catfish.
As we admired the fish, Goodwin explained the method he had employed to allow us to boat that big blue.
“A buddy of mine and I call it cross fishing,” the guide said, explaining that they began using the method by casting into the wake of passing barge traffic. “I use a light line on the sinker lead line, so the fish or a hanger will break it off. Cast the rod across the river and let it drift. The rig will hang up on a rock or something out in the current. There’s going to be a fish behind the rock, and the bait will come around and beat him on the head. The fish has to hit it. They’ve just got to reach out and get it.”
Goodwin then commented that part of the Mississippi’s allure is fish such as the one Gansz had landed, and that you just never know what you’re going to catch until you see the fish break the surface. It’s part of why he has fished the river for roughly two decades.
After smallish blue and channel cats came to the boat, the arc in one of my poles proved Goodwin’s words prophetic. On the other end was a flathead catfish in the range of 25 pounds.
As the morning gave way to the blazing heat of the day, the action went from fast and furious to slow and deliberate.
So, with the bite on the wane, Goodwin shifted the boat to a shady spot under the highway bridge between Helena-West Helena and Mississippi’s Casino Row.
The shade and the breezeway created by the bridge’s under structure dropped the apparent temperature by 10 to20 degrees and provided the perfect setting for sharing some more fish tales.
Goodwin began the storytelling by mentioning Leonard Algood, the father of one of his childhood neighbors.
“Leonard lived in the woods, hunted and fished, did some construction work and then would go back to hunting and fishing again,” the guide said, reminiscing about Algood’s influence on his affinity with the outdoors.
Then came a yarn about Goodwin, who also deer hunts in Arkansas and Alabama, and his older brother Roger. The pair floated the White River from Augusta to the river’s mouth.
“It was a blast. There ain’t words that explain getting on a boat and getting in the river,the camping and fishing,” he said, then added that he had to climb a cypress tree to get a cellphone signal to call his wife so he and his brother could get a ride home.
By midafternoon, it was time to head back to the bay for more bait. Again, the fish were hard to find. But, just as before, Goodwin persevered and caught enough shad to have us back on the river and headed toward more whiskerfish.
Going first to one of Goodwin and Mitchell’s past hot spots, we found little action - only the pop of a rod tip two or three times. So, we made one more move. We motored back downriver to the grain barges and chutes where our fishing day had begun.
What followed was one of those moments when memories are made. In 10 hook sets, 10 fat channel cats came in on my side of the boat. They were stacked up in the shaded shallows feeding on the spilled grain beneath the grain chute. Soon, Goodwin repositioned the poles, and Gansz and I were both pulling in fish after fish.
“If they play their cards right, someone can take an eight-hour trip over here and have 100 pounds of catfish,” Goodwin said. “With the guide, they can up that to 150 to 200 pounds. Of course, whoever comes over here to fish should be somebody that is familiar with fast water, with tugboat traffic. They need to at least have that kind of experience. Beginners will do fine with a guide. He should be able to set you up and let you catch all the fish you want to catch.”
Goodwin’s comments were right on the mark once more. The 150-quart ice chest in the middle of the boat was within a fish or two of capacity. We were out of bait, so we gave the cats a reprieve and turned the boat toward the park ramp.
Regarding the fishing hole that gave up our haul, the guide said, “When the water level here is at 20 feet or below, when the river is not out of its banks, you can catch fish here. I’ve never seen a time when we couldn’t catch fish over here around these granaries.”
Back on shore, the boat was trailered and pulled to higher ground. Pictures of our 200-pound-plus haul were taken, hands were shaken, promises for future shared adventures were made, and the fish were separated for all to have some to take home.
While a burn ban was in effect across the majority of the state, I can definitely say that we made our own fireworks that day. And, I can’t wait to try it again.
Staff writer James K. Joslin can be reached at (501) 399-3693 or jjoslin@arkansasonline.com.
Tri-Lakes, Pages 131 on 08/05/2012