Exotic Fishing   

Who among us does not read the articles that appear regularly in fly fishing magazines about destination travel to exotic locales to fish for exotic species of fish and wonder what it would be like to actually have those experiences? 

Some of these adventures seem more appealing to me than others. Peacock bass, in particular, have always had a certain fascination. Perhaps it’s their vague similarity to the sunfishes that I have always pursued with great pleasure. I believe it was John Gierach who opined that if all bluegills weighed five pounds no one would fish for anything else. Peacock bass come about as close to that description as anything that exists in the real world. In fact, in their native Amazon basin their weight can exceed 20 pounds. That’s a little scary, actually. 

Other than the cost of such a trip, the prospect of visiting South America was a bit off-putting. I know this environment seems very appealing to some people. But although I’m not a squeamish person, the prospect of the heat and humidity and all of the various blood-sucking parasites and other creepy critters native to this churning cauldron of life seem a bit too much to handle. In the battle of fascination versus repulsion, the latter wins out in my book.

But I had also been reading in those same magazines about the introduction of the “Butterfly Peacock Bass” into some waters in Florida. Even though the Florida Peacocks do not reach the size of those in their native waters, here in effect was Gierach’s “five-pound bluegill” in the flesh. Plans to travel to Florida this past spring were quickly modified to include a day of fishing for them.

DVWFFA member Dr. Janice Egeland was my host and fishing partner for this outing, although she elected to watch rather than fish on the day in question. We set off in two boats, Janice with Capt. Ron Tomlin of Natural High Florida Fishing Adventures and I with Capt. Alan Zaremba. Alan is a peacock bass specialist, guiding both on the Miami area canals that are home to the Florida Peacocks and also running trips to South America for Peacock Bass in their native range. 

As it turned out, the Florida fishing was plenty exotic enough for me. The Sunshine State is home to many, many introduced, non-native species of plants and animals. Thanks to the very salubrious environmental conditions most exotic species that are introduced here by accident or intent manage to establish themselves, often to the detriment of native species. Peacock Bass were, in fact, introduced in Florida waters by the state Inland Fisheries Bureau for the purpose of controlling other exotic fish that were accidental introductions. Sort of like the children’s song about the old lady that swallowed a fly…and then proceeds to swallow a spider, a bird, and on and on to eat the previous thing she swallowed. 

So we slowly made our way through a maze of narrow canals, flanked by urban backyards quite a few of which sported a sign warning “Bad Dog.” We passed under low bridges decorated with graffiti, past iguanas sunning themselves on the banks or splashing off overhanging branches into the water, hearing the calls of exotic birds either free-living or in backyard aviaries, fishing for exotic species of fish. 

Alan was extremely adept at spotting the small, inconspicuous nests of the Peacocks. And here lies a major difference between our native bass and sunfishes, which are members of the family Centrarchidae and the Peacock Bass which, along with many of the other exotics from Central and South America, are members of the family Cichlidae. In Centrarchids, only the male guards the nest. In Cichlids, both male and female are on guard duty. So once a nest is located, there’s a good chance you can catch both parents. 

Alan had me throwing a #6 Clouser Deep Minnow in Chartreuse and White. The color of the fly is not terribly important, he told me, as long as it’s bright enough that the angler can see it. This is because accurate placement in the nest is key to success in many cases. The fly also needs to have a sufficient sink rate to go fairly quickly to the bottom in a foot or two of water—the average depth in the area where the nests are found. The Clouser is the ideal pattern for this work, and the fact that it rides hook point up is also very helpful in virtually eliminating snagging on the bottom. 

Soon after we started off, Alan put me on my first target. It took me a couple of tries to get the distance. “That was good,” he said, “but put the next one about four inches to the left.” Janice and Ron were close enough to hear this exchange, and Janice later told me that she just shook her head at the concept of adjusting presentation to that degree. I, on the other hand, was in the zone and thought nothing of complying with this directive. “Good!” Alan said. “Now let it sink…now strip, strip…” Bang! The fish pounced on the fly and soon I had a small peacock of about a pound in the boat. A good start. 

We moved on, catching Peacocks with fair regularity. At first it seemed like Alan was catching the fish by remote control. But after a while I felt like once I saw the nest I knew what to do. Then we came to “The Pipe,” a remarkable bridge under which the canal was culverted through a corrugated metal pipe. This was the first time in my life I’ve ever been through a pipe in a boat—and Alan’s boat just barely fit. We had to duck down low, and there wasn’t much clearance on the sides—not an experience for the claustrophobic.

Ron’s boat, on the other hand, did not fit. And so we had to separate for a while. I told Alan I would be interested in catching some of the other exotics present in the canals, so we went to an area where he knew there were some different species present. I got an Oscar, the familiar aquarium fish, of about 2 pounds. I also got a Jaguar Gaupotes of about half a pound. As I played this little rascal, Alan cautioned me not to put my fingers near its mouth. As I lifted the fish up by the leader, I remarked “I see what you mean, he has fangs.” Upper and lower canines were clearly visible protruding from the fleshy gums. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Alan said. “Hold him by the body.” I did so, and Alan used a pair of pliers to gently lift the lips. The fish had a complete set of top and bottom teeth. Yikes!

Clouds had been building all day, and now thunder rumbled ever closer. Alan said we would have to go find some shelter. He pulled the boat under a solid concrete bridge just as the rain began, and there we had our lunch while sitting out the storm. Rain teemed down, and the wind blew strongly enough to carry mist well back under the bridge, dampening us a bit. We spent about an hour under the bridge, and finally the storm blew past and we were able to resume fishing. But the downpour had muddied the water and the fishing became difficult. At this point I had 19 Peacocks and the Oscar and the Jaguar. Alan was determined that I should get a 20th Peacock, and finally I did and we headed for the boat launch. It began to rain again just as we got there, so it was just as well to call it quits for the day.

If not for the storm, I am confident that I would have had at least a 30 fish day. But let’s not be greedy, 20 was plenty and beyond my wildest expectations. Although this was not what most people would call an idyllic experience, occurring as it did in a gritty, urban setting, I had a blast and would do it again in a minute. Should you find yourself in the Miami area with some time on your hands, I’d recommend it highly. 

--Mary S. Kuss--