Noodlers get trial seasonHand fishing will be legal in parts of three state rivers from June 1 to July 15.
By Brent Frazee
Knight Ridder

Kansas City — Howard Ramsey remembers the day he waded into the Salt River in northeastern Missouri, swam into a hole in the bank and caught a big catfish with his bare hands.
Then a game warden caught him.
"I knew noodling wasn't allowed there, but the temptation was just too strong," said Ramsey, 57, who lives in Paris, a town in the middle fork of the Salt River valley. "I got a $500 fine out of that deal. That hurt."
More than anything, that fishing trip sent Ramsey on a long mission — a campaign to get hand fishing, more commonly known as noodling, legalized in Missouri.
Noodling is when fishermen go underwater, find a big catfish and grab it by the lip or jaw. Or, the fish can grab them, clamping down on an arm, wrist or leg. The fish is then wrestled to the surface.
It's an accepted sport in 11 other states, including Arkansas, Oklahoma and Illinois. But since 1919, it has been illegal in Missouri.
That will change slightly this year. In December, the Missouri Conservation Commission (the overseers of the Missouri Department of Conservation) approved an experimental season that will allow noodling in stretches of three Missouri rivers — the Mississippi, the St. Francis and the Fabius — for a limited time this summer. These waters were chosen because they are connected to waterways where commercial fishing is legal.
But fishermen such as Ramsey and the 200 men and women who belong to his Noodlers Anonymous group aren't satisfied. They think it's time for Missouri to have a statewide season.
They have taken their fight to the General Assembly, lobbying state legislators for their help. In the process, noodling has become an unusual issue in this year's session, with several bills introduced that would allow hand fishing.
Meanwhile, noodlers and fisheries officials with the Missouri Department of Conservation continue to search for a common ground.
Biologists worry that hand fishing could have a damaging effect on catfish populations and that noodlers target the biggest fish in the population at a time when they are most vulnerable — when the fish retreat to holes to nest.
Noodlers argue that that it takes a special breed to have the courage to pull a big catfish out of a hole by hand; that they don't have enough fishermen in their ranks to do harm to the fish population. And they say there are more catfish in many of these streams than fisheries officials think.
And around and around it goes.
Biologists still choose a cautious approach. And fishermen such as Ramsey still dream of the day when they can go noodling in Missouri without having to look over their shoulder to see if the game warden is coming.
"Missouri has some of the best noodling water in the country," Ramsey said. "But we can't fish it. That's a shame. That just isn't right."
A dangerous hobby
When Ramsey gets a bite when he goes catfishing, it hurts. He isn't dangling a worm or a piece of chicken liver on a hook in front of the fish. The only bait he uses is his fingers or his toes. And when a big catfish clamps down, Ramsey knows it.
"I have a lot of scars from where big flatheads have bit me," Ramsey said. "When you swim into one of their holes, they aren't too happy to see you.
"I've had them clamp down so tight on my arm that I didn't know if they'd ever let go. They have rows of tiny teeth, and when you try to pull your arm out of their mouth, they'll just skin you. I even had one fish that tore my tennis shoe right off my foot. I couldn't walk for a couple days. But that's all part of it.
"It can be a dangerous sport, but it's worth it. When you pull a 50-, 60-pound flathead out of a hole by hand and your heart starts thumping, you know it's worth it."
Ramsey said a noodler's biggest fear is how a fish will react when confronted. Occasionally, a big catfish will grab a fisherman's arm and start rolling, which can result in an arm or wrist being broken.
How it works
When Ramsey goes noodling these days, he often travels to states such as Illinois or Oklahoma and wades shallow rivers. Once he locates a hole in the bank, he will hold his breath and go underwater.
Then, while a friend holds his ankles, he will swim into the hole headfirst. The catfish often meets him at the door, as he puts it.
That's when things can get interesting.
"When I grab that catfish by the jaw, I'll kick my legs to tell my buddy that it's time to pull me out," Ramsey said. "I've caught catfish as big as 62 pounds that way."
Ramsey takes pride in the fact that he comes from a long line of noodlers.
His dad was a noodler, and his grandfather was, too. Heck, Ramsey even has the pictures to prove that both of his aunts also caught big catfish by hand.
"I have a picture from 1944 showing my aunts posing with a big flathead they caught," Ramsey said. "It's just something that's always been in our blood."
But the Ramseys aren't alone. Gary Webb of Ludlow also has traveled near and far for the chance of catching a big catfish by hand.
He has taken his share — including a 97-pound blue cat that he wrestled out of a hole in a river bank. But it's the big one that got away that intrigues him the most.
"We had a huge cat that we nicknamed old Walter that whipped five of us for three years," Webb said. "... He even took a bite out of my friend's shin and thigh. We got a look at him, and we knew he had to be over 100 pounds. But we never were able to catch him."
A loyal following
For as long as catfish have roamed rivers, there has been hand fishing.
Historian James Adair wrote of how the southern Indians would dive down and reach under rocks to catch catfish by hand. And in southern states such as Mississippi, noodling has long been part of the rural culture.
In Missouri and Kansas, it hasn't been legal. But that doesn't mean it's not going on. Law-enforcement officers in both states acknowledge there is illegal hand fishing taking place. Tickets are issued each year. But for each person who is caught, there are many other fishermen who manage to give the warden the slip, many say.
It's just that many of those fishermen won't readily admit as much. That's where the name Noodlers Anonymous came from.
"A lot of these fishermen don't want their names getting out," Ramsey said.
A study by Mark Morgan, an instructor at the University of Missouri, estimated that there are 2,000 noodlers in Missouri. His study showed that most of them are men, average age 40, with a rural background.
"For a lot of us, this is an adventure," Ramsey said. "It's meeting the fish on his terms and having a fair fight."
Steve Eder, fisheries division administrator for the Missouri Department of Conservation, admits noodling has a loyal following in Missouri. But that doesn't mean it's right to open the state's waters to unrestricted hand fishing, he said.
It's his job to weigh what's good for the fishermen and what's good for the fish. And he, as well as many other fisheries biologists, are worried that hand fishing could have a damaging effect on Missouri's catfish population.
"We do have habitat problems in some of our streams, especially in northern Missouri," Eder said. "Many of them have been channelized over the years, taking away good spawning areas. There aren't that many flatheads per square mile to start with. If we legalize hand fishing, that could further reduce the densities of big fish.
"Hand fishermen do seem to be more efficient at taking big fish than other types of fishermen. And that could be a problem."
That problem isn't evident in Oklahoma, a state that has allowed hand fishing for years. There, Kim Erickson, chief of fisheries for the Department of Wildlife Conservation, said, "We don't see anything to indicate it's impacting the resource."
But Erickson was quick to add, "We're not telling Missouri what to do. Just because it works here doesn't mean it will there."
Limited season
Even with the trial season, noodlers say they didn't get much. They worry that the Mississippi and St. Francis are dangerous rivers for the sport because of the fast currents. That leaves the Fabius, which could be a good spot for noodling but may become overcrowded.
The Department of Conservation also is considering a proposal to study catfish populations on six other rivers (which will be determined later) to see whether their catfish populations are large enough to justify limited hand fishing. But even if that plan is approved, legalized noodling on those rivers probably wouldn't be seen for at least two years.
"We're trying to work with the hand fisherman," Eder said, "but we have an obligation to protect the resource, too.
"Right now, I can't see us having a statewide season because of habitat concerns on many streams."