Waterloo Firemen's Park

The One That Didn’t Get Away

(This article was at the end of the Walk Bridge Chapter)

            Most fisherman have a story or two about the big one that got away. This is the story of the one that didn’t.

            Nick Yerges, high school freshman, master fisherman and man about town was drowning worms down below the dam in Firemen’s Park one day back when he was 12.  Suddenly, he felt a tug on the line. Not expecting to catch anything big, he was using 12 pound test line and a #4 hook with a night crawler as bait. As he reeled in to see what he’d caught, there commenced a mighty churning in the water in the general area of his hook. Nick’s interest level went up. The mighty churning also caught the attention of his cousin Dustin Yaeger, 13, who was fishing on the other side of the river.  What sort of behemoth could possibly live in the Maunesha and bend the rod like that? What monster of the deep could roil the water like a giant outboard motor?  What were they thinking to let it get farther and farther downstream?

            Any epic battle requires a plan of action; a marshalling of the troups. It was decided that Dustin would jump in the water downstream and try to scare the fish up toward Nick. Nick would skillfully reel it in, playing him carefully so as not to break the line or the rod.  One must commend Dustin’s resolve to enter the water at all. Negotiating the surrender of a large, unknown opponent, in his own territory – muddy water, who is raising a ruckus and obviously really ticked off, requires fortitude and strength of purpose. Not to mention he promised his mother he wouldn’t get wet.

        The plan, executed perfectly, resulted in the landing of a 28 ½ lb flathead catfish. Not having a net, Dustin took his life in his hands, grabbed it by the gills and heaved it on shore.  After the adrenalin levels came down, and the high fives and exclamations were over, the boys realized they had a really beautiful fish. Catfish, as a rule, wouldn’t win any beauty contests, having unfortunate facial hair and a belligerent expression. This one was looking better and better. It was a shiny green-brown on top and white underneath; in fact, a truly distinguished looking fish.

            When one has the good fortune to catch such a fish, it is incumbent upon one to show it to as many people as possible. Not to brag, you understand, but to show just what can be done if you have the skill and the experience of a Nick Yerges and a Dustin Yaeger. With that in mind, the folks gathered for sliders up at the park got a first hand look at the vanquished fish that day. People relaxing in the bars and bowling alley were privileged to be among the first to stand in awe of this Mighty Maunesha catfish.

Soon enough, things were back to normal. After being officially weighed on the Piggly Wiggly scale, the fish was kept in the freezer about a year, and then mounted. It has spent the last few years being admired by the folks who frequent Blinky’s Bowl. There is now talk of taking it back to the taxidermist, who thought all catfish were brown, to have it painted its original color.

            According to Nick’s dad Gary, Nick showed an early aptitude for fishing. In fact, there is a picture of 3 year old Nick, dressed only in a diaper holding his fishing pole with a blue gill attached. Publishing this picture would not, of course, be in keeping with the dignity owed to one who has a place in the kid’s section of the Fishing Hall of Fame in Hayward, received “In Fishermen”s Master Angler Award and been mentioned in John Gillespie’s “Water and Woods” magazine. In fact, when he was 5, Nick caught a northern pike that got him mentioned in “Fish Finder” magazine.

            The world record for a flathead catfish is 108 pounds. The Wisconsin record is 76 pounds. Although Nick’s fish is not up to those standards, for the Maunesha, his is a large fish. Gary thinks it worked its way down from Lake Koshkonong