Ep. 203: This Country Life - Net Fishing, Here We Go Again!

net fishing. Here we go again. Just when you thought it was safe enough to get back in the water, here come the Reeves brothers with another round of net fishing. This one isn't a sequel, how too. Episode This one is going to be more of a wake up grandpa and go get the neighbors because y'all ain't gonna believe what we did episode. I promise you we were more surprised than the fish we caught. I'm going to tell you all about it, but first I'm going to tell

you a story. Like a lot of my stories, you're not gonna be surprised that this one is about my brother Tim and me. It's a short one, but relevant. Just the same now. I've been kind of sitting on it since the beginning of this country life podcast. It doesn't really fit a narrative or go along with any podcast subject matter other than maybe if I did an

episode dedicated completely to dumb things we have done. Anyway, this happened over thirty years ago, and at the time I lived a mile and a half from where my brother still lives. We did everything together all the time. He was either at my house or I was at his house, or we were together at the country store listening to the old folks talk, or down to Dad's house or over at his in law's house, who looked at me as if I was just an extra family member.

We were all close. None of that has anything to do with this story other than me illustrating the fact that we lived close together, and by lived close together, I mean in totality. If we weren't physically together, we passed each other's house, or we ran into each other at the country store, or met each other on the road. Now, meeting each other on the road one afternoon would most times have us playing an impromptu game of chicken by dodging at the other's vehicle like we were going to

run them off the road. I do not recommend this, nor do either of us still participate in this tomfoolery. Now. I know a lot of you right now are fast forwarding to the punchline and thinking to yourself, those idiots did that at the same time and wrecked their trucks. Well, you'd be wrong. We did something dumb, not stupid, not really. Well maybe, but it wasn't our finest hour, to be sure.

And this incident did involve both of our trucks, but no damage to either vehicle was done, none whatsoever, and we both maintained complete control of everything except our senses. Late one afternoon, I pulled onto the highway from a Gravel County road, headed east to the store. Tim is three quarters of a mile further away, and he pulled onto the highway from his in laws drive headed west.

It was like synchronized swimming. I felt quite sure that he thought to himself as he saw me coming, something similar to what I was thinking. Ah, there comes my brother. We need to do something cool. Well. The evening sun was lighting up the interior of his truck as we got closer, and I saw him when he flipped down the sun visor, so he could see me getting closer. My sister in law barbagings like the jewel she is

sitting right beside him. She would play a supporting role as the unwitting witness, while her husband and I starred as the dim witted brothers. Tim's truck slowly crept toward the center line. I did the same. My memory is to who did it first. As a little foggy, but almost simultaneously, we each stuck our hands out the window to give the other the coolest high five in recorded history. I looked at my speedometer. I was going thirty five miles an hour. Tim appeared to be doing a similar rate.

Ever so slightly we inched closer to the center line. I could see them both playing as day. Tim arms stretched out as far as it would go, grinning like a mute lead, and saw briars and barbacanes, smiling, face fading quickly into an expression of I married an idiot and I got his idiot brother too. Now this was going to be epic in my mind. I quickly calculated that neither of us could get our trucks any closer to the center line without trading a little paint and

this would have to do. And in the time it has taken me to tell this story, the actual incident had already taken place. Had I had this much time to really think about it, I felt quite sure that we wouldn't have done it. At the time, it seemed like such a good idea. Nothing short of divine interventions

saved both our arms that day. As we passed each other at the combined speed of at least seventy miles an hour, only the very tiniest bit of the tips of our middle fingers on each of our left hands touched. It wouldn't have been enough contact to light a kitchen match had you used the same contact across sandpaper. It's a good thing it wasn't any more than that, because it felt like I had touched the surface of the sun and been struck by lightning all at the same time.

I looked back in the side mirror as I shook my hand trying to put the flames out that had ignited upon contact, and Tim was doing the same. We talked on the phone later that night about how thankful we were for failing that stunt. We've talked about it ever since, especially when we see something we judge as being egregiously dumb, then we say, ah, yes, but as that is done, it's attempting a high five at seventy miles an hour him to find out a few things,

ever are. And that's just how that happened. Five episodes ago, around podcast number one ninety three, I talked about fishing with nets and how my brother Tim and I were going to fish his wire ones in the Arkansas River. Talked about my friend Jerry Bowser down in Louisiana that told us how to fish the hoop nets that I have. I'm going to give you an update on the hoop nets in a minute, but right now I want to

talk about those wire nets some more. We'd fished them for a few days last year on the same section of the river. One of them we fished in the same spot as last year. A year ago. We had maybe a dozen fish total out of all three nets. The river came on a big rise and we postponed setting the nets. And this was before I had retired from my regular job, and we wound up not going back at all until a couple of weeks ago. Work had gotten in the way again. Man I hated when

that happened. It's happened often in my life, and I'll never be able to forgive work for how it has treated me all these years. So I quit last October. I retired and all my other pursuits, putting net fishing on the back burner until recently. But we talked about it all through the winter, me and Tim. I was watching YouTube videos and sending them to him and he was doing the same. The videos were filmed by another

fellow down in Louisiana. But this, when it turns out, was a whole lot closer to Arkansas than my old pile. Jerry Bradley Smith lives not far south of the Arkansas Louisiana line and fishes a lot on the Washingtaw River. Now. I used to be partners in the camp down there on the Washtaw. It was located in Union County, in the small community of Felsenthal. Now some of the some of my coworkers at the Sheriff's office and I had it and we had a lot of fun hunting fishing

down there. But Bradley Smith was the first I'd ever seen fishing the wire nets. Their fiddler nets, named for the smaller catfish that they target, and the only difference between them and a hoop net is the net webbing is held in place by a four foot section of concrete reinforcement wire rolled in to a tube with a diameter of eighteen inches and can literally be dropped in the water and fish without any type of anchor having

to tie it off on the other end. Otherwise it would be held open by four evenly spaced fiberglass hoops with a tail rope and a head rope that would each have to be weighted and stretched tight to keep the hoops up right so the fish could swim inside. Now, you wouldn't want to just drop a wire net over the side of the boat without securing it to an anchor or tying it off to something in current. There's no tilling where would end up, but back in your

boat would probably be the last place. Bradley produces some good YouTube content on his channel God's Country Hunting and Fishing. He goes into a lot of detail on how he catches fish, where he likes to set his nets, and what type of nets he fishes, how to repair damage nets, and the thing I like most is how to make

one from scratch. I find it so fascinating that you can take a roll of twine, a net needle, and what Bradley calls a netting board, which is a thin piece of wood about the size of a plated card that's used as a measuring guide for the spacing of the knots in the mesh that form the net. Different

sized mesh is used for different sized fish. Now I add a few hoops to the mix, some weights, rope, or a roll of wire, and you got a fish catching machine that runs twenty four to seven and can catch more fish than you'll want to clean if you're not careful. Now, making one like Bradley does from start to finish is next on my net fishing to do list. Well, that and actually putting the two hoop nets I have

now in the water. The only reason they're not soaking in the tepid flow of the Arkansas River right now is the upcoming Turkey season. It has me traveling in and out of surrounding the nearby states for the next few weeks. I know that's a good problem to have. I ain't complaining, but I can't wait to get to fishings because once Turkey season is done, I'm a commercial fisherman. I bought my license this week and have the tags for both of my hoop nets and some for the

three wire nets. I'm fixing the buy before anyone thinks that I've done something illegal. That saw the videos of me and my brother Tim fishing before I bought this license. You need to understand how this works. You can purchase a helper's license when you purchase your commercial fishing license, and this allows any resident of Arkansas with a valid fishing license to assist the commercial fishing license holder when running the nets. That's what I and Tim were doing.

He has the commercial license and I was his helper. As evidenced in the answer video. Someone commented that Brin is pulling the nets and working while Tim sits comfortably in the back of the boat. Well, I may be an experience the Mississippi River Expedition boat captain and cub pilot instructor, but I'm still the little brother. Where was I going with this? Oh? Yeah, the wire nets Tim and I set out on the day a couple of

weeks ago that we set them out. We had only one spotted mine before we got to the river that day. That was the place where we caught the most fish last year, all nine of them. We had a total of twelve to fifteen fish that day, counting a ten

pound grinnel we had in one of our nets. It's also called a bowfend, and I read an article on Arkansas Wild dot com that described it as, and I quote the author, a prehistoric, bone headed, air breathing, ealy finned, monster fanged fossil fish dating back to the Jurassic period that fishermen loved to hate. That was eloquently put Mark Spitzer.

But water conditions were similar to last year, so we were hoping to at least equal last year's catch of a dozen plus fish after a week's soaking with the nuts. All week, when Tim and I would talk on the phone, the first question after Hello would be what are you doing? The response from the other would be, I'm catching fish? What are you doing? The response was always me too. Now, little did we know that that's exactly what we were doing on the day. We said, and we ran into

a friend of ours that is a real commercial fisherman. Now, he fishes every day, and I don't mean five days a week, every day, as in seven days a week. When you're fishing to pay your light bill. The incentive is real and far beyond the romanticism of scooping up a mess of fish from the river to fill your freezer and feed your friends and family. It gets to be a whole lot of light work. Tim and I had set one net when we ran into him. He pulled up beside us, and we talked about the water

conditions and everything else. While our friend sat in his boat, fish piled up around him like sand bags, and he was in a fox hole on guard duty. He gave me a buffalo fish before he left, like a casino gambler flips a chip to the dealer at the blackjack table. I thanked him, and I jokingly told him, since he'd been so nice in giving me that fish, that any time he wasn't around, I'd run his nets for him and keep all the fish. He didn't think it was

nearly as funny as Tim did. Anyway, We went on about our business and set the other two of Tim's nets. We each picked out a spot, loaded him with bait, secured him with a rope and a weight, and I dropped him over the side. In nineteen eighty one, Tom Petty released a song about net fishing on the Arkansas River. Now few people know that when Tom and the Heartbreakers weren't touring, that they were secretly commercial fishermen. How am

I the only one to know this? And why did it take me forty three years to crack the case? Because I started net fishing and I listened to the words of songs. I get what they're really trying to say. That song was playing on the radio the other day coming back from the river. Just listen to his song, the Waiting. If that ain't a song about fishing nets, I don't know what is. Anyway. Me and Tim set our nets and waited. See see what I'm talking about? The days drug by, And it's a good thing we

each live an hour away from the boat ramp. Or the temptation to check them early may have been too much to handle. Jerry said, y'all got to let them soak and have time to catch. Tim and I vowed not to check them for seven days. We put them out on a Thursday and we would check them the Thursday of the following week. On the next Tuesday, we were back in the boat down the ramp to check them. We were two days earlier than we'd planned. Even though it was a struggle. I was down for holding out

the last two days. But Tim talked to Jerry the night before and he said, man, if y'all are catching fish, you might need to check them tomorrow. You might be catching more than you want to skin. Now, going by last year's catch, I didn't have a lot of hope, but my faith was strong. Also. I didn't think there was such a thing as catching more fish than you want to skin. That's like bawling more crawfish than you want to eat, or tree or more coons than you

want to look at. That's pure silliness. But we rolled into spot number one hopeful but not over confident. Tim had his hand on the tiller as we coasted up to the place where we'd caught the most fish last year and predicted out loud, fifteen fish to God and everybody within earshot to be the count. In the first net. It was a second or third pull with the net drag. When I hung the net and pulled it up to the boat, it didn't feel heavy, it didn't feel like anything.

Then as I pulled the end of the net first, they're out above the surface the water began to swirl, and I knew we had at least one No sooner had I come to that conclusion. Then I realized we had more way more than one thirty plus fish in the first net. Tim and I were floored. We had more than doubled all of last year's catching. The first net, it was the net that we had the most confidence in until I pulled it up and saw how loaded it was. I immediately thought about the one we placed near

the main river channel and a big eddy. I thought that one had a lot of promise, just going by what Jerry had told us and what I'd learned from watching Brady's videos on YouTube. Two mile ride to the next net took forever, but we passed the time seeing who could smile the biggest as we hooped and hollered all the way down the river to where it's sent.

This took several drags until I finally hooked the line and started put the net, and I didn't get it to the surface before I started feeling a net shake with fish. This catch was bigger than the first, and it took me several tries to get it in the boat. The third net may have been the biggest catch of all that day. It was all I could do to get it loaded and dumped in the floor of our vessel. Almost one hundred and twenty five fish we reset each net.

Now to think that I'd laughed the night before talking to Tim on the phone when he told me Jerry said, we may catch more fish than we want to skin. Now that wasn't the case. But for the next two hours we stood at the end gate of TAM's truck and filaied fish until we'd put almost sixty pounds of catfish filets on ice to take home. We looked at what we'd done and bashed in the glory of the big pile of fish that we caught and cleaned, and I looked at him, I said, buddy, that's a lot

of fish. He kept staring at the fruit of our labor and said, some folks may be getting and fish for Christmas this year, or they very well might be. I've given some away to my neighbors on both sides of them, and I plan on sharing some with the others too. And if you want to see a smile on someone's face, just surprising them with a mess of freshly cleaned fish. If you want to see me and Tim smiling, go over to my Instagram and watch the reel I've put together. Tim and I run the nets

that day. We baited them and reset them like I said, And three days later we had to go back and check them, not because we couldn't wait, but because I'm having to leave to go Turkey ount with some friends down in Mississippi. This time I brought a bigger ice chest, more ice, and Tim had gotten a customed skinning board made that would allow us both space to filey and

hook fish to be skinned. Whole long story short, the river came up four feet during those three days, and when that happens, the fish fall the rise and they move onto the newly flooded ground where the fresh food is unco The prediction had been a rise of less than half a foot, which could have been equally as bad for where we'd sit the nets as well, but not as likely. But four feet, man, that's a fish

and killer on the net. Out of the three nets, we call one fish, and we turned him loose after we made him promise not to tell his butdi is what we were doing. Time will tell if a catfish can be trusted to keep his mouth shut. By the time this episode is aired, I hope to have had my foot on the neck of a flopping Mississippi longbeard. Time will tell on that met Either Auction House Oddities is up until April the ninth, so you still got

a few days to check that out. Lots of cool it of including an all inclusive coon hunt for two with me Old Whaling and my pals down here in Arkansas. That's right, two people. The folks and Bozeman were pretty stoked to hear, so you never know if somebody else in the meat of the crew may be crashing the party. And we're not through with the net fishing series just yet. I still got to get my hoop nets prepped in into the water. I love the turkey hunt, but that gum.

This net fishing is fun, but the waiting that's the hardest part. Check out the Meat Either live events and get your tickets before they sellout. My river boat pilot trainee Clayton Nukelem, along with the usual suspects, will be at every show. I thank you for listening, and until next week, this is brit Reeves. Sign it off. Y'all be careful