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We decided that we would take a day off from hunting. Friday morning, we slept in. It was great! I had suggested to Brandon that we try to fish peacock bass and his ears perked up. Peacock bass, for those unfamiliar, actually aren't bass. They are Amazonian cichlids. They, along with dozens of other species of fish, have been introduced to South Florida's waterways. Not as scary as the pacu or snakeheads, not as humorous as giant goldfish, and not as detrimental as walking catfish. They actually provide good freshwater fishing in an urban setting that likely wouldn't have much of a sportfishery otherwise.
I used to fish them down in S. Dade county, but wasn't sure about access. A few well-placed fences would seal us out from the spots I knew and we'd spend the day of fishing experimenting with new spots. We had the boat, so I decided to take a chance and fish the airport lakes. They were closer to our location and with tens of miles of connected canals, would provide plenty of spots. We swung by the local West Marine to pick up an aerator and bucket on my discount and then the quest began.
Miami problems. I called a bait shop and asked if they sold shiners. The heavily accented man on the other end of the line said they had some. We trailered the boat through busy city streets and traffic lights to arrive at the shop. When I handed the man my bucket and asked for shiners, he started to scoop up shrimp. A back and forth with he and his coworker soon had me explaining that shiners are for freshwater, for bass. Then they said they didn't have any. Go figure. We called another shop and they had some. We found their old location with the help of the GPS. Then we called and got the new location.
When I got out the bait bucket, I noticed that the tackle box was not in the truck. We had left it at my uncle's. Had we know this 20 minutes prior, we could have bought some tackle on discount at West. Not wanting to backtrack to get the kit, I bought some bare essentials at the bait shop and a dozen shiners. We arrived at the wrong entrance for the ramp and had to unhitch the trailer to get turned around. We launched at the busy park as onlookers stared. A few kids were tossing a section of mono into the water, pretending to handline. When they asked if I could cut the tangled end off the line, I obliged. When they asked if they could have a hook, I reminded them that the sign said "no fishing from dock" and then gave them a hook and told them to do with it what they saw fit.
We didn't get very far, idling through the idle speed zone until I saw some pilings that looked like good structure. Without a fishfinder or any previous experience on the lake, I was relying on what I could see above and in the water. As we pulled up to the pilings, my polarized glasses did their job. I spotted a sunken boat in about 15 fow. The cuddy cabin was sitting upright and we were able to anchor right above it. Brandon and I casted shiners out on live bait rods and then started working plugs among the overhanging tree branches and pilings. A big splash as a bass crashed a school of baits behind us alerted some of the muscovy ducks, but only for a second. They were preoccupied with feeding on the kernels of corn dumped on the shoreline.
My live bait rod bent hard. I reeled in the slack and went to hand the rod to Brandon. Then the line snapped. The fish had hung me up in the wreckage. Next, Brandon's rod bent over, but he tried to jaw-jerk it like Bill Dance. The circle hook jumped right out of the fish's mouth. We were fortunate though, as there were enough aggressive fish around that it didn't take but 5 minutes before we had landed our first peacock of the day, Brandon's first ever. Again, I think he was surprised by the fight that fish had in it.
The wreck stopped producing, so we up-anchored and started to drift along the shoreline. When the boat slid into a seawall, I saw a thick weedbed along the dropoff. It turned out to be our honey hole for the day. Sans trolling motor, I simply hand-walked the boat along the abutment and we placed the shiners along the deep edge of the weedline. When I kept pointing to the water and telling Brandon to cast at a specific fish, he requested to borrow my glasses. He couldn't believe what a difference they made and purchased some later that night. Armed with x-ray vision and tasty baits, he landed several more peacocks. I picked up two also, one being a big hump-headed male. The hump is present when actively breading. Imagine that, breeding in January!
The weedline stopped producing, so we moved along. We looked for sunken structure behind an office building in the midst of being demolished. There was a lot of rip-rap, but it looked like we'd lose every fish we hooked. It was still neat to drive by. Urban scenery I suppose. We fished under a bridge with little luck. One struck, but missed my artificial, the only strike we had all day on a lure. We ran a ways, SS exhaust from the mudmotor blasting as we passed under cement bridges, until we came to a more "natural" looking lake. The lake was a square, a product of it's birth by dynamite and machinery, but two shorelines were undeveloped. Reeds and weeds along the shoreline were strewn with floating garbage. Not a piece here or there, but enough that it could serve as fishing structure. There, Brandon picked up a more natural species. A largemouth bass.
I spotted a bulky palm tree hanging into the water and thought that maybe something would be lurking underneath the fronds. We were startled a bit when we instead found something lurking in the fronds! Investigating the rustling noises, I poked my nose into a colony of creatures. I didn't tell Brandon what they were, just that he had to stick his head into the tree's canopy to see. There, a dozen iguanas sat watching us as we watched them. I was hoping one would fall into the boat just so I could hear Brandon scream.
We returned to the honey hole weedbed in a last ditch effort to add a few more catches to the tally. There, Brandon picked up a diminutive largemouth. It's hard to be a bass in a waterway dominated by more aggressive cichlids. We motored back to the ramp. The fishing was fun, but we were at a crucial time in the day. Leave immediately or battle rush hour(S!). I picked a route that worked out well to avoid the swelling traffic and no one hit the boat, so I was happy. We had a nap and then got cleaned up for a trip to Texas de Brazil for a meat feast followed by a tour of the local BPS.
Brandon has pictures of the big fish still...
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...ps2c2ef5cb.jpg
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...ps6d285c14.jpg
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...ps1e06e2d2.jpg
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...ps17dc9640.jpg
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...psc30307ac.jpg
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...psec26c17c.jpg
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...pseeb589e6.jpg
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...pscf0f4a47.jpg
http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f3...psc80e1822.jpg
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Now that's one hell of a road trip!
Beauty pics:thumbup:
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nice shot of my in my homer simpson PJs lol
