Column: Florida fishing, with an alligator
Hello from sunny Bonita Springs, Florida where we just experienced our first rainy day in the past 45 days. We’re pleased that almost all of Florida got seriously wet yesterday with about 2 inches to soak the fire-prone Central State grasslands and forests.
On the negative side, all last summer the beaches on the West Coast of Florida were befouled by a tremendous “redtide” with its poisonous toxins that killed hundreds of thousands of fish from minnow-size to a few whales, porpoises, shorebirds and even some manatees. The rotting corpses were floating in the bays and creeks or on the sandy beaches, and the stench added to the already rank air caused by the “tide.”
The redtide is an organism found in almost all of the warmer oceans and drifts where the tides take it in patches of several acres and generally causes no problems. But when it’s fed by fertilizers and sewage leaching from fields or lawns or cesspools, it can grow into a miles-long and wide death trap for all life that comes near to it, especially fish and birds that rely on the water for their food.
The air along the shorefront and up creeks and into bays was hard for humans to breathe, resulting in a huge loss of income from Florida’s most important source of revenue — tourism. It lagged until late January when the cooling water caused the tide to finally abate.
As a result, saltwater fishing has been terrible and even now, charter boat captains have to go about 40 miles off-shore to guarantee their “sports” a reasonable catch.
I started to fish the creeks and ponds in our golf course community. I fish from the shores and even from the edges of some of the golf holes after hours when the golfers are mostly gone and can’t hit me with an errant shot. Our ponds are full of largemouth bass that grow to 8 pounds or so. They’re terrific game fish that, most of the time, try to eat everything they see.
In addition, we have a beautiful tropical fish called a Mayan Chiclid about the size and shape of a 2- to 3-pound porgy with beautiful blue, black and orange vertical stripes. They’ve migrated to the ponds from the Everglades and are aggressive, hitting practically any lure and putting up a strenuous fight on light tackle.
We also have some sunfish, some big catfish, and occasionally we’ll see a snook or tarpon after they come in over the weirs, sneaking in when the storms are raging and the creeks that back up into the ponds are at flood stage.
My general plan is to wait until late afternoon when the sun is heading down. I throw a little pack of gear on my shoulder and head to a secret spot, spinning rod in hand. We still have plenty of alligators and snakes around, so I pick my position carefully to see what’s going on and usually there is plenty.
One late afternoon I was fishing off a 5-foot-high bridge over a main creek, catching bass. I had just caught an active little bass and was able to haul it in without going to one end of the bridge. I noticed an alligator of about 6 to 7 feet had seen all the splashing caused by the fish and was casually moving my way, finally stopping about 100 feet from the bridge after the fish was returned to the water.
On my next cast I hooked a big fish and realized that to land it on the light tackle and not break the rod, I would have to leave the bridge and make my way down coral rocks toward the water’s edge. As I stumbled down the loose rocks, the ‘gator watched the action from his location.
As my tug of war with the fish on the light rod got more heated, the reptile started to move my way. When I gained more line and got the fish closer as I descended the rocks, the ‘gator got excited and started to throw a wake as he powered toward me.
I identified the fish as a big catfish, and so did the ‘gator, who was streaking to the spot where I stood, inches from the water. My only chance to avoid a real confrontation was to grab the heavier leader and just haul the fish out of the water and run like a bandit up the coral rocks.
I did that and got a 5-foot lead on the ‘gator who suddenly stopped and decided he shouldn’t try to carry his bulk up the scratchy rocks. I made it back to my perch on the bridge. Since no one believes my stories, I always carry my camera so the photo above will confirm that part of the tale.
The fish weighed just short of 10 pounds. Finally I had to sneak down the rocks on the far side of the creek to release it. But the ‘gator hadn’t moved from the other side, patiently waiting to be fed.
HOW TO CORNER: If you want to be ready for the flounder season and early striped bass fishing, make sure your tackle is clean and workable. Check rods for broken guides and to see if your line is new enough to go through a full season. Rig up with new leaders and use new hooks to get the season off right. Look for the sales of spring fishing gear on the web at Bass Pro shops or meander down to Jack’s Marine and ask Mike to rig you up.
