Yet, for decades the big bottom-feeders largely flewunder the radar of Vermont anglers, even though they are every bit as native to Lake Champlain as they are the Deep South, where channel cats rival largemouth bass as the No. 1 game fish.

That began to change in 1992, when the Lake Champlain International fishing derby introduced the "extraordinary species" category, which made catfish, carp and other big uglies eligible for derby prizes. The results were eye-opening.

Huge whiskered fish started showing up at weigh stations, starting a trend that continues to this day. Year after year, the heaviest fish entered in the Father's Day weekend derby are invariably fat cats, and even a 20-pound catfish seldom finishes in the money.

We're talking about fish with heads the size of a soccer ball, and wide, gaping mouths that could easily swallow a keeper trout. Fish that leave your rod hand cramped and your head shaking in disbelief. Fish that seem to come in only two sizes: big and enormous.

Outside of a few specialists, however, relatively few anglers target catfish. It's safe to say that most are probably caught by anglers after other species. That was the case when Hubert Dumas launched a canoe on Monkton Pond in search of bass.

Dumas' nightcrawler was inhaled by a catfish so large it towed his canoe across the pond, and, try as he might, left him unable to regain the line. Only by tying the canoe to the end of a long dock was he able to land the fish after a 45-minute tug-of-war.

Even though Dumas gutted the huge fish and waited two days to have it weighed, it tipped the scales at 34 pounds, 14 ounces, setting the current state record.

Monkton Pond is one of a handful of inland waters in the Champlain Valley where catfish have been introduced. But Dumas's fish notwithstanding, Lake Champlain remains the place to go if you want to catch a giant cat.

Catfish are found throughout the lake, and are particularly abundant in its northern and southernmost reaches, as well as the lower sections of its larger tributary rivers, where water temperatures are more to their liking.

Catfish love warm water. They don't begin actively feeding until the temperature reaches about 60 degrees, and they don't spawn until it climbs into the mid-70s. Both of which make the late spring and early summer prime time to land a big cat.

Doing so is simply a matter of using stout tackle and a big, stinky bait. Catfish will eat just about anything they can get in their huge mouths, dead or alive, and they have a keen sense of smell and taste, with thousands of taste buds covering their flanks and long, whisker-like barbels. The smellier the bait, the better cats like it.

Cut bait, such as half a bluegill or white perch, is a time-proven producer, although the new baitfish rules prohibit anglers from using any panfish other than yellow perch as bait, and then only if caught from the water being fished.

Other productive baits include chicken livers, nightcrawlers, cheese balls, and commercial stinkbaits, the ingredients for most of which happily remain a mystery, although it's safe to say they are nothing you would ever want to eat.

The best fishing is at night, when hungry catfish go on the prowl. Look for shallow, weed-free flats and bays adjacent to deep channels and holes where cats lay up during the day. If the area is fed by a small, fertile tributary stream, so much the better.

Leave your bail open so fish can run with the bait before ingesting it. Then pray that your line is strong enough to handle whatever ate your bait.

But the truth is, you never know when or where a big cat will strike. One of the most memorable cats I ever saw came during a Ducks Unlimited youth event several years ago at Mac's Bend boat launch on the Missisquoi River.

After the barbecue lunch, one of the adult volunteers impaled a large steak on a big hook and for laughs lobbed it out into the river. Twenty tense minutes later, he wrestled a huge 25-pound catfish up onto the bank as the assembled kids looked on in amazement.

"That was the most awesome fish I've ever seen," then state DU chairman Skip Thomas recalled. "It actually looked like a fish that would eat a streak."

Lawrence Pyne writes about the outdoors from his home in Cornwall.

Monkton Pond is one of a handful of inland waters in the Champlain Valley where catfish have been introduced. But Dumas's fish notwithstanding, Lake Champlain remains the place to go if you want to catch a giant cat.

Catfish are found throughout the lake, and are particularly abundant in its northern and southernmost reaches, as well as the lower sections of its larger tributary rivers, where water temperatures are more to their liking.

Catfish love warm water. They don't begin actively feeding until the temperature reaches about 60 degrees, and they don't spawn until it climbs into the mid-70s. Both of which make the late spring and early summer prime time to land a big cat.

Doing so is simply a matter of using stout tackle and a big, stinky bait. Catfish will eat just about anything they can get in their huge mouths, dead or alive, and they have a keen sense of smell and taste, with thousands of taste buds covering their flanks and long, whisker-like barbels. The smellier the bait, the better cats like it.

Cut bait, such as half a bluegill or white perch, is a time-proven producer, although the new baitfish rules prohibit anglers from using any panfish other than yellow perch as bait, and then only if caught from the water being fished.

Other productive baits include chicken livers, nightcrawlers, cheese balls, and commercial stinkbaits, the ingredients for most of which happily remain a mystery, although it's safe to say they are nothing you would ever want to eat.

The best fishing is at night, when hungry catfish go on the prowl. Look for shallow, weed-free flats and bays adjacent to deep channels and holes where cats lay up during the day. If the area is fed by a small, fertile tributary stream, so much the better.

Leave your bail open so fish can run with the bait before ingesting it. Then pray that your line is strong enough to handle whatever ate your bait.

But the truth is, you never know when or where a big cat will strike. One of the most memorable cats I ever saw came during a Ducks Unlimited youth event several years ago at Mac's Bend boat launch on the Missisquoi River.

After the barbecue lunch, one of the adult volunteers impaled a large steak on a big hook and for laughs lobbed it out into the river. Twenty tense minutes later, he wrestled a huge 25-pound catfish up onto the bank as the assembled kids looked on in amazement.

"That was the most awesome fish I've ever seen," then state DU chairman Skip Thomas recalled.

 "It actually looked like a fish that would eat a streak."