This is The Jungle

I have a special connection to small watercourses in as close to a natural state as they can be. In Florida, watercourses are much altered. Manicured, straight canals cut across the flat lands, man's way of forcing water to bend to our will. A lot of this land would by impossible to develop otherwise. Much of it would be wet year round and quite a bit of the rest would at least be wet part of the year. These canals have great fishing, both with native species and a plethora of invasives that we humans have introduced intentionally or accidentally, but they don't speak the same language as a natural watercourse. Water still rebels against our will when we try to beat it down. Ask anyone that was in New Orleans on August 29th, 2005. Yes, a river is best left to do what it wants to do, not what we want it to do. 

There's a small watercourse tucked away right within the urban jungle of Florida's East Coast that I've decided to call the Jungle Stream. It must be noted that it isn't in its natural state, nothing in Florida is anymore. But it is a far cry from the golf courses, packed suburbs, and busy strips just miles away. Because there are so many people it isn't even easy to avoid them in the Jungle Stream, but it is still unquestionably that place I'd rather be and has become one of my favorite places to fish since Noah and I first visited it more than a year ago. The plethora of fish species we'd seen and caught in this foreign feeling place certainly didn't hurt, one of my favorite of which is the bigmouth sleeper, Gobiomorus dormitor. These fish aren't generally considered an ugly by-catch for anglers fishing for other fish species. But to me, they are a remarkable fish of which I can't possibly get enough of. The species starts its life in brackish water then moves into freshwater rivers, streams, and canal, as well as sometimes moving into still waters. They are classic ambush predators, laying in wait for a prey item to swim overhead. I've seen numerous sleepers laying in ambush on submerged logs and branches, on which they blend in incredibly well. I was very pleased when the first sleeper I saw on our first visit to this stream this year ate my fly without hesitation. My only bigmouth sleeper prior was a very young one, and this one wasn't big either but it had grown into its big boy colors. The adults look very different from the tiny individual that was my lifer.

It was fitting that one of the first fish I'd catch out of this creek this trip would be this wonderful native sleeper. I enjoy targeting Florida's plethora of exotic invasives, and their presence certainly improves my ability to build my life list., but I'll always be a native fish lover. The fish, as it would be, where it should be.

Spotted sunfish, Lepomis punctatus

The creek wanders through the most wonderful woods. Parts of it are slow but very deep, and the dark waters make it impossible to see the bottom in some of the holes. They look bottomless. On our previous visit, we'd seen snook an striped mojarra in a lot of these holes, as well as huge Florida bass. This year we saw very little except schools of spotted tilapia in these holes. There are a few small roll dams on the creek though, and for a stretch beneath each the creek flows faster and is more interestingly structured. It was from immediately below one of these dams to about 200 yards below it that Noah and I found the most life. 

Cichlasoma urophthalmus, Mayan cichlid.

Where fish congregate, other wildlife is likely to congregate as well. Paddling with gators is something I've now gotten used to. I talk to them. I compliment them. I tell them how awesome I think they are. I can't believe I've been allowed the privilege of getting to see and interact with these modern day dinosaurs. I don't fear them at all, but I respect them immensely. Later on this same trip though I encountered an animal while paddling that legitimately scared me. I can't wait to tell that story!

Spotted tilapia, Pelmatolapia mariae

Spotted sunfish, spotted tilapia, bluegills, Mayan cichlids, bigmouth sleepers, and redear sunfish dominate the roll dam pool itself. I caught my fair hare of good looking fish and some large specimens of a couple of the species, but Noah, drifting a night crawler on a jighead, nailed the most impressive fish. This monster redear sunfish was the largest of the species either of us have seen:

Lepomis microlophus

Noah has a habit of catching huge Lepomis on our out of state trips. His Champlain "mega-seed" Lepomis gibbosus a few years ago is another such catch. I like big sunfish, so I was both stoked and green with envy. He caught another only a little smaller just a short time later. Photos did justice to neither, they were brutes. The species does get quite a lot bigger though, and we' both love to get a proper leviathan redear. I'd get some big Lepomis on this trip too, but it wan't my time yet. I was just happy to be catching a few sleepers! While Noah continued fishing the dam hole, where the fish had gotten finicky towards my artificials, I waded off downstream to see what I could get. Mostly Mayans as it turned out, but it was nice to do some wading rather than standing on the kayak or on the bank. The water felt cold, but it wasn't really. It felt like it should be within trout range, but it was really in the 70's. Wet wading is a connection to the stream I miss all winter at home.

Wading white sand and shell bottom under the tree canopy in the evening... Heavenly! 

We'd be back here a few times, but in the meantime we had other special places calling our names.

Until next time,

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

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