Precision Bait- Drifting for Big River Blues

A Moveable Feast for Cats

Cory Schmidt
|

“In big rivers like this, I rarely drop the anchor anymore,” says catfish tournament pro John Jamison of Spring Hill, Kansas, while working an extended drift on the Ohio River. Make that a precision drift. As they’ve done countless times before, Jamison and fishing partner Mark Thompson are sorting through tournament strategies on a choice stretch of their favorite blue-cat river.

 

Thompson asks: “Three hundred?” With a glance at his Humminbird GPS, Jamison replies, “About 335,” describing the distance separating the boat and a small rockpile behind it.

 

Thompson slowly works his rod sweep-drop-pause, sweep-drop-pause, gradually thumbing line downstream. His rig flushes down beneath the monster barge moored nearshore off the stern. It’s catfishing’s answer to flippin’ a boat dock.

 

I steal a glimpse at Thompson’s line-counter—it reads 329. “There’s the rockpile,” he relays to Jamison. Moments later, Thompson sits up straight into a catfish point. Line peels. Rod tip loads. Circle hook finds purchase in something rigid, yet alive. With a deep breath, he begins a strenuous 335-foot upstream battle.

 

After netting the fish, I find myself thinking about the precision-rigging systems of Gary Roach and legendary walleye guide Harry Van Doren. Once upon a time, their livebait methods transformed walleye fishing. Is it such a stretch to suggest that Jamison’s system is any less important for catfishing? Indeed, the controlled drifting program used by Jamison and Thompson lets them deliver baits to big blues and flatheads with a precision that rivals a Kevin VanDam flip or a Gary Roach backtroll. Still, I have to remind myself, this is catfishing. The brutish fish on Thompson’s line is no mere walleye, and it’s certainly no bass.

 

Today, Jamison and fellow tournament ace Phil King use terms like precision-rigging, controlled drift, and drop-shotting as freely as they once dropped anchor. This isn’t just fancy talk. These guys are good, as sharp with boat control and bait presentation as any walleye pro. Their system allows them to deliver baits to difficult spots with incredible accuracy. More to the point, it’s a system every river catman should know, and with practice, one anybody can master.

 

Of course, many of the sport’s top practitioners like King and guide and tournament angler James Patterson have been trolling and drifting for decades. Previous In-Fisherman articles, particularly those by Field Editor Ned Kehde, have set the stage, chronicling the drifting methods of many top catmen. Jamison, however, inspired by his good friend King, has taken the game to another level, employing contemporary tools, technology, and creativity in this fast-evolving pursuit. And it seems appropriate, given the astute nature of catfishing’s preeminent ambassadors.

 

Jamison might just be the Gary Roach of the catfish world—a real salt-of-the earth gentleman whose ideas on catfishing mirror those masters of the previous walleye revolution. At tournaments like the Cabela’s King Kat series—a quaint yet highly competitive circuit—participants and spectators alike treat them like celebrities which, in a sense, they are.

 

About Bumping

From the bow of his newly designed 24-foot Xpress catboat, Jamison positions the nose into current. With a foot-controlled Minn Kota Terrova 101, he’s alternatively nudging the boat upstream, slipping back, and holding dead-stop below some awfully turbulent tailwaters. From the stern, Thompson continues “bumping” his rig downstream—the term they apply to their bait-drifting system. Rather than employing the boat to move their baits, they let current walk them along—a tactic that keeps baits moving downstream in front of a continuous procession of cats.

 

Jamison typically bumps from the bow, but he’s working toward switching to a transom seat beside Thompson, using a handheld remote to control the bowmount. The stern is the most fishable position, allowing for maximum lure spread and precision. With the trolling motor autopilot function engaged, they can maintain a specific drift path and speed, allowing them to face downstream as they walk their rigs over bottom and into prime cat-holding cover.

 

During my outing with the drifting duo, the river is running high and swift, and Jamison explains that bumping baits downstream lets them cover long stretches quickly, constantly showing their baits to fresh cats. The anglers bump baits in large rivers spring through fall, beginning in April when the water temperature reaches the low 50°F range and ending in late November.

 

In reduced summer flows as well as in reservoirs, Jamison says they also drop-shot baits below the boat, directly into and around prime pieces of cover. They’re also experimenting with inline planer boards, hoping to achieve extended horizontal bait coverage.

 

One of the most productive drifts on this trip occurs along the entire length of a lock-and-dam wall stretching several hundred yards. Alternating between a dead stop and a slow downstream drift at roughly one-half current speed (1 to 1.5 mph), Jamison’s skilled boat control keeps our baits in prime position. Our other top drift is along a slab-rock bank with an occasional drowned tree on bottom. A third option is a deep bank that moors numerous grain barges—a spot where Jamison mostly holds our boat stationary in current above a barge, while Thompson bumps downstream. Any of these spots can and often do produce numerous blues surpassing 50 pounds.

 

Using custom Driftmaster #3 graphite rods coupled with Shimano Tekota 500LC line-counter reels, the anglers maintain precise control of their rigs. If a cat strikes 285 feet downstream, calling on their GPS and line-counters, they can quickly return baits to that exact position. It’s  the first time I’ve seen catmen combine these meticulous trolling tools.

 

Yet, I can’t help asking Jamison: Wouldn’t drifting with rigs directly below the boat yield more control and be easier? Jamison: “I like to present baits away from the boat, even in deep water. We simply get more strikes away from it than beneath it. Could be that blues detect sonar pulses—I don’t know. But the main reason is, by bumping we can keep baits moving at the exact speed of the current near bottom. If we simply drifted at the speed of the surface current, or trolled, our baits wouldn’t match current speed.” Current near bottom is unpredictable, he adds, rarely moving at the same velocity as it does on the surface.

 

“As to the other reason for bumping,” Jamison explains, “well, Mark’s last fish just showed us.” His point: By walking baits downstream behind the boat, they can move baits into position below floating cover objects such as barges. “It’s the only way to get them back into these tricky spots—and barges hold a lot of big cats, both blues and flatheads,” he says. The team won a recent Bass Pro Shops Big Cat Quest event on the Mississippi River near St. Louis, bumping baits to whopper blues holding under barges.

 

“In summer, moored barges can be incredible spots,” he says. “Especially those anchored in place for awhile—algae grows on ’em, baitfish gather, and the overhead cover is stable enough for cats to establish themselves there for extended periods.”