The Glades are Calling

I've put it off for long enough. It's been over a year since I took a trip down to the Everglades, and now the urge to get back down there is practically keeping me up at night.

I plan to chase cichlids again. I don't know why, but catching them on a 3 wt is just as much fun to me as catching Snook and Tarpon. Maybe something's wrong with me.

But let's not be ridiculous. I'm a saltwater guy at heart, and no trip to the Glades would be complete without a few Snook.

At this point though, I'm exhausted. Exhausted from doing countless hours of long distance research through the computer. Searching for recent fishing reports, watching Youtube videos, and scanning Google Earth for hours on end has worn me out. Back in 2009, the cichlids in South Florida took a huge hit from a freeze. From what I could tell based off of my 2010-2012 trips, they've been essentially eradicated from Alligator Alley, and their numbers were hurt pretty bad everywhere else. They aren't gone. Let's get that straight. They'll never be gone. But they're harder to find right now as they make a comeback.

These fish are almost impossible to do any accurate research on. Few people know what they are, much less catch them. And even fewer specifically target them. If I lived down there, it wouldn't be such a mystery to me. I could just do my homework, find where they are, and go on my happy way. But even from here in Central Florida, it's a 6 hour drive to where I fish, and I'm not fond of spending most of my time down there getting skunked.

As of right now, I do know a few canals that hold good numbers of cichlids. I've been able to catch them even since the 2009 freeze. But it's beyond frustrating at the lack on information that's out there on how their recovery is doing.

So I'm done researching from behind my computer chair. There's seriously nothing more I can read (I slugged through several scientific papers on invasive's impact on native fish populations -just- to see where they were). It's time I just get down there and fish.

I'm certainly not going to catch any if I don't wet a line.

Cichlids...Aren't those aquarium fish?

It had been well over a year since I’d last visited the South Florida canal systems. That particular trip took place in February of 2011 and was quite easily my worst trip to the Glades…well…ever. We somehow managed to time our trip perfectly with a cold front that turned the bite completely off for the whole weekend. 

That mistake wouldn’t happen again. No cold fronts would be wandering through South Florida in the first weeks of September. 

Rather, it was brutally hot. Oven-like, in fact. Hot enough that our chances of catching anything depended on how close we could land a fly to the Lilly pads. The fish might have had the luxury of shade, but we didn’t. Baking in the sun, we could look down the canal to a vanishing point without the first sign of above-water shade. 

It was going to be hot, and we were going to need to get used to it. Quickly. We were on the hunt for aquarium fish. 

To make a painfully long story short: Cichlids were introduced into the man-made canals of Southern Florida decades ago, many through the exotic pet trade. They became established and eventually thrived. The state introduced the Butterfly Peacock Bass (another cichlid) as a biological control for these invasive fish. Years down the road, we have cichlids, peacock bass, and every other exotic creature you can think of now running around in the Everglades. 

But the past few years, finding these fish has been an increasingly difficult task. During the 2009/2010 winter, South Florida experienced record cold temperatures that killed off -A LOT- of cichlids. But even after the winter kill, I managed to find and catch a boat load the following summer. That was 2 ½ years ago and South Florida has yet to see another freeze like that. I therefore assumed the cichlids would be on the rise and back in full force. 

But I’ve been wrong once or twice in my life. 

Our first stop was one of my “go-to” canals that had always produced fish. I’d brought the 3wt fly rod with me specifically for cichlids and I couldn’t wait to start catching them. However, once we launched into the canal, I noticed something was different. There were few fish to be seen. Normally one can just look into the water and see the cichlids circling roots, rocks, or Lilly pads. But this day was different. I couldn’t see –any- fish. The water was also much clearer than usual. At times, I could look down and see the bottom of the canal approximately 12 feet down. In this same canal, two years prior, I caught a total of 43 NATIVE largemouth bass in addition to a cooler full of cichlids. But this day, I never even saw a largemouth. Something changed and I don’t know what, but we knew it was time to look elsewhere. 

Our next stop was the canals off of the Tamiami. Even after the freeze, these canal systems held fish so I was once again hopeful. We launched, motored about a mile down the canal, and started fishing. Almost immediately both my dad and I had a double hook up. Whatever I’d hooked was actually fighting hard and I was praying I’d be pulling up a cichlid. I was relatively surprised when I looked down to see a nice Bluegill on my fly. 

My dad’s fish was even bigger. 

And it was like that almost every cast. The closer the fly landed to the Lilly pads (and the shade), the better. We could have easily had our limit within just a couple of hours, but I generally like to release natives when fishing in the Everglades. I figure they need all the help they can get while competing with the exotics. That, and I hate cleaning Bluegill. Everyone knows they reproduce once placed on ice and I didn’t feel like being behind a cutting board for hours. In previous years we’d almost caught no Bluegills in this particular canal and I took their presence as a sign that the cichlid numbers were low/non-existent. 

No cichlids off of the Tamiami, and we were now running low on ideas. Sure there are plenty of launches into other canals, but those are all located in the kicked-over anthill that is Ft. Lauderdale/Miami. The last thing either of us wanted to do was go fishing smack-dab in the middle of a booming metropolis. Instead we stuck to the saltwater fishing in the Everglades and pretty much crossed cichlids off the list. 

But I had an incessant need to land a cichlid on the 3wt. It practically haunted my dreams and I forced my dad to pull over and stop and literally every canal we drove over. And finally, on the second-to-last day of our trip, I stepped out of the truck to check on a roadside canal. I looked down in the water and had to do a double-take. There were cichlids! Lots of them. I scrambled back to the truck and quickly assembled my fly rod. 

Once back by the water’s edge, I spotted out 2 big Mayan Cichlids, and made a cast to them. My fly landed only inches from them both and I carefully twitched the fly to entice a bite…But nothing happened. 

Confused, I made another cast. This one landing just past them and I began working the fly right between the two fish. To my shock, they spooked. Both fish were terrified of my grasshopper fly.

I repeated this process a few dozen times before I switched flies. Figuring a bead-head nymph couldn’t –possibly- scare a fish away, I began casting it to the exotics below me. But once again, every time the fly came near, the fish spooked. I literally tried everything after that. Different flies, tippits, you name it. Nothing worked. 

There are only two things in nature that literally drive me insane: Whitetail deer, and seeing fish that I can’t catch. I was going to solve this “no catching” problem one way or another. 

Anyone who has regularly read this blog knows that I’m not a purist when it comes to hunting or fishing methods. I’ll just as soon blast a deer with my rifle as I will stick one with a bow. And I’ll just as soon use a rod and reel as I will hop in the water with a speargun. 

So it should be little surprise to anyone that the following morning I was back at the same canal, fresh out of Walmart, with a brand new cane pole and a can of worms. 

I walked to the edge of the canal, saw my prey, and could hardly contain myself for all the anticipation. I’d waited almost two years to catch these fish again…and it was about to happen. However, my visions of filling the cooler with cichlids were quickly snuffed. I placed a juicy, wiggling worm right on the nose of a cichlid, and watched as it turned away and swam off to deeper water. 

Every fisherman has had –that- moment…The moment when dynamite and hand grenades suddenly seems sporting. When, just once, you’d like to hang up that bow and take out a howitzer for those deer. Or just nail that fish sitting the shallows with a big ‘ol rock. 

This was one of those moments…

Completely and totally fed up, I sat down in the tall grass near the edge of the canal, and just watched the water despairingly. But after a few minutes, I noticed the fish were coming back. Right up into the shallows in fact. Slowly, I flipped a worm down to them and…boom. Cichlid. 

The curse was broken! And I’d figured out something important. If I stood up, and the fish could see me, there was no chance of hooking one. So I spent the rest of the morning creeping along the high grass like I was on some African safari hunt, and would flip a worm over the edge of the canal in random places. It worked surprisingly well and it wasn’t long before I was filling the cooler with cichlids. 

But something was still missing; I’d yet to land one on the fly. 

With my new found knowledge and restored confidence, I set about walking down to the water’s edge, crouching in the high grass, and casting parallel to the shoreline. My little fly landed in the mirror still water just a few inches from the shore. I peered through the grass at the ripples it made as it hit the water and I gave it one little "pop". Immediately, a V-wake moved right for it and a big mayan inhaled the popper.

I did this for the remainder of the evening and caught both Mayans and Oscars on the fly. The fish were spread out quite a bit, so it took some walking in between bites. Unfortunately there were no boat ramps into this canal, which figures since we didn't bring the kayaks this year. But even with as much work that was involved in just catching one of these fish, I had a blast. They fight exceptionally hard for their size and actually taste great. Hopefully in the coming years they won’t be such a nightmare to hook, but I know I can’t wait to chase them again.

Everglades Exotic Fish Tournament

So I meant to post about this back in July, but got...side tracked.

I realize posting about it in November is a bit late, but bear with me. I found it interesting.

Back in July, the Everglades Cooperative Invasive Species Management Area hosted a non-native fish roundup. Simply put, a tournament to catch exotic fish in South Florida. The results, along with pictures can be found here: http://www.evergladescisma.org/roundup/results.cfm

I found this whole thing interesting because of recent events here in Florida. Two winters back, Florida had near record breaking cold snaps and freezes. There were widespread snook kills and a massive die off of exotic fish, in particular, the Oscar.

The ecologist in me was happy about the exotics dying off, but the fisherman in me worried. Even for their small size, Oscars are one of my favorite fish to catch. There's just something about tossing a fly near a fallen log, and having a fish a little larger than a bluegill, engulf it and fight 10 times as hard. So was having a large population of these exotic fish die off a good thing?

It's hard to tell really. I've read papers about both Oscar's and Mayan Cichlid's effects on native species such as Largemouth Bass. From what I've read, having the exotics around hasn't really caused much damage. Yes there is a large amount of predation on small bass by the exotics, but at the same time, big bass have an almost unlimited supply of tasty cichlids.

To add, there's actually an exotic species that may suffer from a die off of Oscars. That species is the Butterfly Peacock Bass. Native to the Amazon in South America, the Butterfly Peacock Bass was purposefully introduced into the Florida Everglades by the state to help control Oscar and Mayan Cichlid populations. Since then, the Peacock Bass have become a major sport fish. So there's the possibility that having a large amounts of Oscars dye off could be detrimental to the Peacock Bass.

I've seen a change in the amount of exotics first hand. My first encounter with these fish was in May of 2008. My dad and I stopped along the Tamiami Trail and noticed that there were -hundreds- of fish teeming around the rocks and bushes in the near by canal. At the time, we weren't sure what they were, but we knew they weren't native. Using worms and gold hooks, we proceeded to have a hay-day.

My next trip occurred in early August of 2008. -Something- changed in between that time. Perhaps the heat forced some of the fish into deeper water...Who knows. But they weren't as thick as they had been in May. That's not to say, however, that they weren't there. We still found them, and filled the cooler.

In May of 2009 I found myself down in the Glade's again and just like the previous year, the fish were thick. I caught close to 10 Oscars off of one sunken log at one point and this time we laid into the Peacocks as well.

Winter of 2009 was when the freezes hit.

I made it back down to the Glade's in June of 2010. Immediately, I went to see if the exotics were still there. It took quite a bit of poking around, but I finally found them. They weren't -nearly- as thick as they had been the year before. They were definitely few and far between. I made another trip later in the summer since I was working within 3 hours of the Glades. Once again I found the fish, but they were still lacking a bit.

Realizing that the fish were still alive, I desperately wanted to get back down there. And from everything I'd read, the BEST time to fish for them was around December or January. I made a trip down there again this past February to get in on some of the -awesome- fishing...We went just in time for a cold front.

The cichlids were all but gone. The cold had driven them into holes and deep spots, and we only saw 2 or 3 Peacock Bass the whole trip.

It, of course, was in the 70's the following week, and I'm sure the fish were teeming once again.

I haven't been back down there since. So reading about the exotic fish tournament was interesting. The total weight of fish they pulled in was almost 226 lbs. That may not sound like a lot, but remember, Oscars and Mayans usually weigh about 1-2 lbs. They pulled in -alot- of fish. However, I searched and couldn't find if they'd had previous tournaments. It would be interesting to see if there was a change in the amount of fish pulled in before and after the kills.

I'm really not too worried about the exotic populations after the freezes though. From keeping Oscars in an aquarium, I know that under the right conditions, they can grow up to an inch per month. They usually max out at about 12-13 inches, so you do the math.

I've no doubt that the exotic fish species are there to stay. It would take more than just some cold snaps to get rid of them. I certainly look forward to the next time I can make a trip down there. Until then, I'll just tie up flies for cichlids, and look through old pictures in anticipation.

Where I Fish In My Dreams

This blog entry is my submission for the Red Tuna Shirt Club and Outdoor Blogger Network Writing Contest.

Photo taken from redtunashirtclub.com

The Red Tuna Shirt Club makes fishing shirts featuring highly rated fishing charters or guides from around the world. Each month, they unveil a new shirt that is sent to all of their members. They are currently having a writing contest which asks the question:

"What's your dream fishing destination? Who would you fish with? What species would you fish for?"

I personally thought about this question for days. It's nearly impossible to decide on -one- dream fishing destination. After all, I can think of probably twenty different places around the world that, if asked to fish it, I would immediately drop whatever it is I was doing and go fish.

I tried to narrow my dream destination down a bit by selecting a target species, but that just made matters worse. My ideal fishing trip involves some remote place that few have fished or seen, and casting to fish that have rarely (or never) seen a lure. The bottom line is that there are just too many fishing destinations...too many fish (if that's possible)...the world is just too big to pick one place to go. But, after quite a bit of thinking, I decided on the place that might be on the top of that -very- long list.

Now I'm generally a saltwater guy. No offense to all the freshwater fisherman, but I become bored with bream and bass pretty quick. And sadly, I don't get much of a kick out of throwing microscopic pieces of hair into a fast moving creek in hopes of landing an 8 inch trout. I much prefer slapping a foot long bait fish onto a bridge gaff-like hook and tossing it out just to hook something bigger than myself.

But after some thinking, I made an exception to that rule: Cichlids. Almost all species of cichlid have what I want in a saltwater fish, but in freshwater form. Tough fighters, highly aggressive, and will hit a lure half the size of their body. I discovered fishing for these fish years back in the Florida Everglades. Back in the 60's, aquarium hobbyists released the Oscar into some of South Florida's canals and they soon became established. It wasn't long before more, and more, and yes...even more species were released into the canals and began to multiply. These South American and African fish are able to survive in South Florida because of its tropical weather. Soon, the state began to look for ways to help control the population of Oscars, Mayan Cichlids, and other invasives. They decided on purposefully introducing another species of cichlid; The Butterfly Peacock Bass.

Today, South Florida is still home to exotic fish and the number of established species continues to rise every year. I try every year to make a special trip down to the Everglades to fish for cichlids with a fly rod and I have a blast every time I go. The only problem I have with these trips is the people. There are -constant- signs of people wherever you go. Giant mounds of garbage, grocery buggies sunk on the bottom, other boats, car traffic (many canals parallel roads), etc. Although I may love sight casting my fly to an unsuspecting peacock bass that's hanging out under a bush, the semi-truck passing by a 70 mph takes away most of the naturalness...well...more so than the fact that I'm fishing in a man made canal, for an introduced species.

Taking all these things into account, my dream fishing destination would be The Amazon River in Brazil. The Amazon is home to numerous cichlid species including the Butterfly Peacock Bass and the Oscar. From everything I've read, the Peacock Bass get even bigger in Brazil than they do in Florida. World records for these fish continue to be broken along the Amazon. To make things even better, scientists continue to describe new species and subspecies of peacock bass.

Photo taken from riverplateanglers.com

One may ask, "How would you even go about fishing a place like this?". Well, it certainly isn't cheap, but I hope to be able to do it one day. There are several different options available for people who wish to fish the amazon for peacock bass. Probably the most common method is a mothership trip. Fishermen stay on the mothership and take smaller boats into the backwaters to fish during the day. Another method is floating cabins which are literally just like they sound. Several floating cabins are hooked together and towed around the river. Meanwhile, like with the mothership, fishermen get to take smaller boats or even float planes into hard to reach places. The last method that I've seen is a safari camping style trip. It allows fishermen to reach nearly inaccessible locations, but at the price of camping alongside the river. Did I mention this is in the jungle? I'd have to seriously consider whether I'd want to camp or not. There are a multitude of different outfitters for Amazon fishing, but here's one that is an example of the kind of thing I'm looking to do: Peacock Bass Fishing

And if my calculations are correct, after I sell my Jeep to pay for the trip, I should have just enough money left over to buy something off McDonald's dollar menu.

Of course one can't go on such an adventure by them self. A fishing partner is a must. The person I would love to take with me would be my dad.

He is, after all, the person who got me hooked on fishing at age 3. I make nearly all of my fishing trip with him and I couldn't imagine not having him along on a trip such as this.

One of these days I'll get a chance to fish the remoteness of the Amazon, see the eruption of an enormous Peacock Bass under my fly or lure, and feel the pull of one of the toughest freshwater fish species around. Until that time, I'll be here in the states, getting my yearly fix somewhere in the metropolitan nightmare that is South Florida.

A Look Back: Everglades Fishing, 2008

The following is a report from an Everglades trip during the summer of 2008. 
I've also made a link to this page as an "Action Photo Prompt" through the Outdoor Blogger Network. I misunderstood the directions for the photo prompt so to actually see the 'action' shots, scroll to the middle of the story :)

It amazes me how far one can drive in Florida and never actually leave the state. I blame the its goofy, dog leg shape. It's especially far if one drives from Pensacola to the Everglades. In fact, the only possible way to make a longer trip within the state is to keep going to Key West. Bottom line, the drive sucks and lasts anywhere from 11 hours to an eternity.


In the summer of 2008, my dad and I drove the grueling 11 hours down to Homestead, Fl to fish for exotics, Tarpon, and Snook. Our first stop while down there was Holiday Park, just south of Alligator Alley. The place was a nut house when we arrived. Airboats, motorboats, and people everywhere. We drove to the back of the park near the RV campground and noticed a small canal running due south out of the park. The best part was that there wasn't a soul in it because there was no boat launch. So my dad and I unloaded the yaks from the truck and proceeded to launch the kayaks from the near vertical bank...snapping a rod tip in the process.

After launching and fighting our way through a thick mat of Lilly pads and Hydrilla, my dad and I had the canal to ourselves. Luckily, at this point in my life, I had yet to be bitten by the fly fishing bug. Yes, I enjoyed fly fishing, but only for a few minutes at a time and I didn't have the overwhelming urge to catch -everything- on a fly rod. After about 20 minutes of no luck with the fly rod, I brought out the bream buster and began drowning live worms.

To my surprise, I was having very little luck even with live bait. Fish were few and far between but after a few hours I had managed to put a decent amount of bluegill and exotics in the cooler.

The primary exotic fish caught in this particular canal was the Spotted Tilapia. It's not an actual tilapia. In fact, its another form of cichlid. But just like all other cichlids, it fights like a fish weighing 10lbs heavier than it really does.

Spotted Tilapia

With almost no success on the fly rod the first day, my dad wanted to head into the Everglades National Park to try our luck with Tarpon or Snook. The park is located just a few miles outside of Homestead and we arrived early the next morning. We parked at the visitor's center and my dad wandered inside to use the bathroom. Being bored and curious, I stepped out of the truck and walked over to take a look at a large map of the park that had been put up on a display sign. I hadn't been outside of the truck for more than 30 seconds before I realized I had made a mistake. One look down at my legs confirmed my fears: my legs were black with thousands of mosquitoes. They proceeded to reduce me to a mixture of a screaming 10 yr. old girl and a shriveled husk from blood loss in just a few seconds. I made it back to the truck, slammed the door and set about killing the few hundred I'd let into the cab in the seconds the door was open.

As I sat in the truck and set about hooking up a blood transfusion, a family of tourists parked next to me and hopped out of the minivan to look at the same trap I had just fallen for. I wanted to warn them...tell them to at least keep their two little girls in the car as I feared one of the blood sucking pterodactyls might be able to carry one off...but I was too afraid to open the door or roll down the window. Instead, I watched with mild anticipation as the family realized they'd fallen into a trap.

A few seconds passed and the mother slapped her leg, but continued looking at the map. Almost immediately afterwards the father slapped a bug on his neck, then his arm. The little girls began slapping bugs on their legs in quick succession. Then the mom began slapping her neck, arms, face, back, legs and started screaming and bolted back for the car. The rest of the family followed right behind her, slapping themselves and screaming the whole way. Then they made a near fatal move. Instead of rushing into the car, they opened the back of the minivan and whipped out a can of bug spray. They quickly sprayed themselves down while doing a very unhappy dance. A few seconds passed with the family still spraying, stomping, yelling, and dancing about like their hair was on fire before they realized it was futile and possibly fatal to remain outside and then slammed themselves shut in the van.

Moments later my dad came casually strolling out of the visitor's center. Why mosquitoes rarely bother him is a mystery to me and I envy him every time I have to apply a thick coat of bug spray. He walked up, looked at the sign, and headed back to the truck. As soon as he hopped into the cab with me, another car drove up and parked. "Watch this", I told him as a young couple hopped out of their car and walked over to look at the death trap.

"What am I watching?" my dad asked.

"Just watch these two", I told him as I wide grin came across my face. Sure enough, the couple began slapping themselves, and were sent screaming back to their car. It's hilarious to watch when it isn't happening to you. A few minutes later, another car full of people showed up and stepped out to look at the sign. Once again, they were nearly carried off and slapped and cussed their way back to the car. I wish I had thought to video tape it. Watching this was almost better than fishing....Almost.

We drove into the park and stopped at a lake a few miles in. It looked fishy, so we launched and proceeded to try our luck. Every once in a while, I could see tarpon roll in the distance, but I couldn't get anything to hit. After paddling around for a while, I noticed a small opening in the mangroves and paddled over to it. The opening led to another pond. I slipped my yak through the narrow opening and drifted out into the middle of a deep pond. I cast my top water lure along the edge of the pond and began working it back toward me. Suddenly, the lure exploded and a tarpon was sent skyward underneath it. I watched in shock as my lure landed a few feet ahead of where it had been and the tarpon landed with a splash. I immediately kept up the action of the lure. Another explosion, and the lure went flying again. A few more twitches, a third hit and then the sound of my drag peeling out. The fight was on.

I yelled at my dad in the other pond to come over and kept the tension on the fish. I was nervous the whole time of breaking the fish off on the 12lb test I was using but I bowed every time he jumped, and let him drag the yak in circles in the pond. My dad finally showed up to see the end of the 20 minute battle.

Bow to the King

The fight continues

I finally got the fish close enough to lip and pulled him into the kayak.

This fish made my trip. It was my second Tarpon ever and weighed close to 30 lbs.

I revived him for a few minutes and let him go. Not 5 casts later, I hooked yet another one. This one was much smaller, and it proceeded to drag me into a bunch of mangroves and almost to my death from mosquitoes. One can see from the picture that I'm busy wiping them from my face with my other arm.

We also caught several bass in the pond and missed a few more tarpon. After a while, the bite stopped and we loaded up the truck for the day. The following day, we went back to the Park, but this time fished a different pond. I caught one HUGE Myan Cichlid on a lure, and missed several bass and tarpon. My dad managed to land a very nice Snook as well.

The last morning we were there, we headed into town and bank fished for exotics. I caught my very first Peacock Bass and certainly broke no size records:

A bit later in the morning, we stopped at a different spot and I noticed a big Peacock Bass sitting in the shallows. I began casting everything in the tackle box at it, but it wouldn't take a thing. The last thing I had in the tackle box was a chartreuse double-tailed grub. I tied it on, and cast to the bass in one last hope of at least catching its interest. I was shocked when I did far more than grab its attention...the bass absolutely clobbered it. After a very good fight, I landed the fish and threw it in the cooler.

My 2008 Everglades trip was certainly worth it. I had a blast and found several places to fish in the future. The Tarpon also made the trip for me and I can't wait to go back year after year.

Everglades, Winter 2011

Well, two weeks ago, the weekend that I'd been looking forward to since last July finally came. My dad and his long time fishing buddy hauled the kayaks down from Pensacola, picked me and my roommate up, and headed down to the Everglades.

The target species was cichlids and peacock bass. I had three stops in mind when we were on our way down. The first, and furthest north, was Alligator Alley (I-75). We arrived Saturday morning and to our dismay, the weather was awful. A cold front had blown through the night before and the temperature was in the low 50's. To make matters worse, the wind was howling about 25mph out of the north. We proceeded to launch off of I-75 and fish.

Had we been fishing further north in the state, I would say that the fishing was fantastic. However, we weren't catching what we'd driven 6 hours for. Nothing but bluegill and stumpknockers. We were actually coming close to catching a little gill every cast. Reports from last years fish kill made it seem like all the cichlids had been wiped out along I-75 and from our experience, I can say that it might be true. Just the sheer number of small bluegill that were being caught tells me that they're having a boom season right after the cichlids got wiped out.

We decided to leave I-75 and proceed further south toward Homestead. We stopped by the Tamiami trail to look at the canals, but couldn't really see much. The weather wasn't getting any better anyways so we drove on down to Homestead to stay the night.

The next morning we got up and went back to the Tamiami. We launched around 9 am and fished for a few hours. The bite was slow, with only a few non-picture worthy bass and bluegill to show for it.

Our next stop was my "if we don't catch cichlids in this canal we aren't gonna catch any anywhere" canal. Upon arriving, I couldn't see any cichlids in the water like I had the summer before. We still launched and proceeded to work our way down the canal. As it got later in the day, the topwater bite picked up and I stopped using my popper/dropper setup and switched to poppers only. I succeeded in catching about 15 very small bass.And ONE eety beety Peacock bass (which at least gave me a boost of confidence).

And with no one else catching much, we put the yaks back up and headed for the motel.

With the freshwater fishing being so terrible, we went to plan B: Fish for Snook and Tarpon around Everglades National Park. I had to be back in Gainesville Monday night because I had a test the following morning, so we fished the park until around mid-day.

As soon as we launched, I went to the spot that I caught my juvenile tarpon and huge snook in years past. The first thing I see when I round the corner is this:

An American Crocodile. I'd never seen a wild one before this. The picture doesn't do it justice since I didn't want to get closer in my little kayak. I've seen BIG gators before that have easily gone 13-14 ft. and this monster dwarfed them. At a distance, it looked like a pile of dirt that a bulldozer had pushed up. I snapped a few pictures and headed out of that pond after casting to rolling tarpon with no success. Later in the week, I took the picture to the FWC office here in Gainesville and confirmed it to be a crocodile.

I paddled back around the launch and started fishing with the fly rod again. The water was VERY clear and I could see down about 10-12 feet. This however, didn't stop the bass from biting and it wasn't long before we started hooking into them. By this time, the weather had finally decided to warm up some and I think that sparked the bite. I ended up with about 8 bass and only one that I deemed picture worthy.

My dad lost a pretty big one on conventional gear and his fishing buddy managed about 10 small ones on the fly. Once noon came around, it was time to go.

Sometimes you just don't hold your mouth right and things don't work out as planned. It's a shame the weather was so bad that weekend as it was beautiful and hot the next weekend (temps in the 80's and sunny). The Peacock bass and cichlids were just too cold from the weather and found a hole somewhere deep to try and stay warm. But...that's how it goes. We still caught fish and I still had a good time. Besides, if it weren't for bad fishing trips, how would we know when we had a good one?

I'm really looking forward to getting back down there when the weather heats up. I've got a score to settle with some Oscars and Mayans on my new 3 wt. Until next time,

Fish on.

Winter Update

Things are kinda slow this time of year as far as hunting and fishing go for me. To be honest, January through March is my least favorite time of the year because the deer season is nearly over and it's too cold to fish for most of my favorite species. I find myself spending my days plotting for times of warmer weather and generally just going crazy.

The next few weeks, however, might prove to be a relief from the lack of outdoors. I'm currently getting a minor in Fisheries and Aquatic Sciences and one of my classes requires field work (lake work?) on a lake located on campus. Fishing is off limits on this lake and that means there are some BIG bass and bluegill in it. Luckily for me, the field work consists of electro-shocking the water and taking data on the fish that we collect. I'll be bringing a camera for each outing and snapping pictures of the fish that no one ever gets to cast at.

The second week in February should prove to be exciting as well. My dad and his long time fishing buddy will be driving down and picking me up for a trip to the Everglades. We'll be kayaking and targeting Cichlids in the canals down there. From what I've read, the fishing for Cichlids is best during winter months due to lower water levels in the canals. I've only had a chance to fish for Cichlids during summer months, so it will be a brand new experience for me. My dad was nice enough to loan me a 3wt fly rod for this adventure and I'm excited about trying it out on some Oscars and Mayan Chichlids. I hope to not only catch a mess of fish on the fly rod, but also land a spotted tilapia on the fly. I've had success catching them on worms before, but they've yet to take a fly.

My latest fishing trip landed me on a small lake within Gainesville city limits on a friend's tandem kayak. I only took the 5wt with me while he fished with a spinner. I fished for hours with top water flies and never had the slightest bump. I finally switched to a bead head nymph and managed 3 nice size bluegill, a small bass, and my first crappie on a fly rod. I failed to bring the camera with me, so you will just have to take my word that the crappie was as long as my arm. My fishing buddy might protest to this measurement, but he's still delirious from cold and the lack of catching fish.

Everglades 2010, Take Two

Well, after the success of my first trip to the Everglades of 2010, I couldn't help but have another go. It was nearing the end of summer and I knew I wasn't going to have another chance until next year. I was limited on time on the first trip and only fly fished for cichlids for about 45 minutes. This ate away at me for weeks afterwards until finally...I couldn't take it anymore.

I loaded up a kayak in the back of the Jeep, grabbed my gear, and drove the 3.5 hours down to Florida City early one Saturday morning. I launched the yak at 8:00 am sharp and went to town in the same canal I'd caught fish in before.

I certainly wasn't prepared for the best day of fly fishing I've had to date. Over the course of the day I landed:

14 Mayan Cichlids and 1 Oscar (not shown):


1 Butterfly Peacock Bass (my 1st on the fly. Hit like a ton of bricks):


8 Fat gills:


And...*drum roll*...43 Largemouth Bass (none over 2lbs):


The overwhelming heat and sun got to me around 4:30 that afternoon. The wind had picked up at that point too making it difficult to control the yak and cast at the same time so I headed back. While I was paddling back to the Jeep, I realized that I hadn't eaten anything all day and I was sunburned to boot. I made it back to the hotel, dragged the yak into the room, ordered a pizza, and collapsed on the bed.

After gorging myself on super supreme stuffed crust, I was feeling quite a bit better. Some storms that had been floating around had worked their way offshore, so I decided to go make a few casts back down at the same canal before it got dark(it was only a few miles from the hotel). I stopped by a gas station to buy some aloe for my terrible sunburn, but found that they wanted 18$ for a tiny little bottle of it. I decided to just suffer.

Once down at the canal, I walked a few hundred yards from the Jeep and started casting. A dumb fly kept lighting on my face, so my casting resembled that of someone with a terrible twitch. I also noticed a few mosquitoes trying to bite my ankles. I proceeded to just brush them off and keep fishing. Soon, I started catching fish! I also realized that I had no way to keep them so I walked back to the Jeep to grab a small cooler. It was gradually getting later in the evening and I got to watch a beautiful sunset over the Everglades as I continued to walk further and further down the canal, catching fish as I did so. I started having to swat my legs and neck more and more often as I began to accumulated a few more blood sucking followers. I kept fishing and catching and didn't really realize that I was in trouble until it was too late. With one final cast, I looked up to see that the sun had sunk far below the horizon, and that all its rays were now just a dim glow. That's when I noticed the roar. I looked down to see my arms and legs were solid black with mosquitoes. I practically flew up the canal bank, secured my fly to the rod, and grabbed my cooler. I've got to get back to the Jeep before I...

My thoughts drifted off as I realized that I'd managed to walk over a mile from the Jeep. By now, the deer flies had begun swarming my face. With fly rod and cooler in had, I did the only thing I could do: Run screaming like a little girl.

With a mile time that could have qualified me for the summer Olympics, I made it back to the Jeep sweaty, bloody, and nearly crying with a mixture of pain and joy. I quickly threw my gear in the cab, hopped in, and drove off down the highway with the windows down, trying to flush the bugs out of the cab. Once back at the hotel, a combination of severe sunburn and hundreds of bug bites lead to a fever. I can safely say, however, that I haven't slept that well in a LONG time.

I got up Sunday morning and fished the canal again, however, not with the same amount of success. I still caught 5 more Cichlids and 10 more Largemouth. I noticed that cichlid fishing is much like bluegill fishing in that the bite is on fire early morning/late evening and whenever it gets cloudy. The Mayans put up an unbelievable fight and even with the 5 wt I was having trouble keeping them out of the sunken timber and structure. Two of them managed to get onto the reel as well. The biggest ones were between 10 and 11 inches.

From what I've read (and seen), the cichlid fishing isn't all that spectacular in the summer months because of higher water levels in the canals. Apparently late winter/spring is the time to go when water levels are low. One of these days I'll have to escape from school and make another trip in the springtime.

Everglades 2010

Spent Monday through Thursday of last week spraying exotics. I despise them now and I cringe every time I see Cogan grass, even when it's not on state land.
My dad came down Tuesday evening to stay through the week. He fished during the day while I worked and then we both fished in the evening. I was able to show him around the WMA too.
Thursday after work we took off for the Everglades. We made the horrible mistake of trusting the GPS navigation to get us to the Tamiami trail quickly and it took us down I-95 directly into Miami. The interstate was 12 lanes of chaos and a trip that would have taken between 2.5-3 hours on the Turnpike ended up taking 5. We fished the Tamiami for a short time then drove down to Homestead to the hotel.The next morning we went back to the Tamiami to put the kayaks in a canal. I fly fished for a few but had little to no luck. I then switched to a good ol' fashioned worm. We were worried that the Cichlids had all died over the winter fish kills and I broke out the worm rod just to check. After only a short period of time, I landed a Mayan Cichlid. Soon after I got a Jaguar Guapote and these other Cichlids (Honestly not sure of their name. They look like a cross between a convict and a discus). We noticed some storms heading our direction so we paddled back. I didn't have a cooler on the yak so I put my fish on a stringer. Once at the launch, I tied the stringer off to a bush to keep the fish alive in the canal. We loaded up the kayaks and put everything up in the bed. I walked down to the water's edge and began untying the stringer from the bush. Suddenly, there was a flash and I felt a shock run up my arms to my elbows. A lightning bolt had struck the water VERY close by. WAY too close if you ask me. My hands tingled for about 10 minutes afterwards.
We then drove down to the Everglades National Park to do some fishing in ponds we'd had luck in during previous years. We launched the kayaks and quickly got to fishing. I used strictly top water and soon had tarpon exploding underneath the lure. None, however, could hook themselves. It was the perfect fishing evening...The kind fishing dreams are made of. Not a breath of wind, cool weather, the water was like a mirror, and HUGE fish chasing your lure. If only I could have hooked one. I counted during the trip and missed a total of 15 strikes from both Tarpon and Snook. I landed one bass and my dad landed a nice Snook.
Went back the next morning to the same pond. I paddled right back to where I had so many strikes and after about 10 casts, hooked up on a fish. It dragged me around the pond for over 15 minutes. I figured it was a juvenile Tarpon, but had never seen it jump. I finally got the fish up to the boat and had the best surprise of the trip. It was a monster Snook. I pulled the fish to the boat's edge, reached down to lip him, the fish shook, and lodged the hook right into my finger. The thought of having myself attached by the hand to such a big fish made me rip the hook out instantly, ignoring the barbs (ouch). My second lipping attempt worked and I hefted the ogre into the yak. Before this fish, my biggest Snook may have been 18 inches. I was grateful for bringing my camera for this 40 inch, 30lbs fish.
My dad caught a small tarpon later (which I didn't get a picture of) and that was that. We drove back to the Tamiami trail and there were a ton of people fishing it. We didn't launch the kayaks again. Sunday morning we went back to the Everglades National Park again, but caught no fish in the ponds. On the way out, we stopped to look in a canal. To my surprise, it had cichlids in it. Lots of them. We launched the kayaks and I was determined to catch one on a fly. It took over 30 minutes of casting and maneuvering the boat in 20 mile/hour winds but I finally had a fish on. It turned out to be an Oscar (my favorite Cichlid by far).
A few casts later landed myself a very nice Mayan...
Ended the day with 4 Mayans and an Oscar on the fly. I'd never caught Cichlids on the fly before so the combination of a huge snook and cichlids on the fly definitely made my trip.