Venomous Fish and the Bridge Monster

Some fishing days are made permanently memorable with one striking occurrence, like the capture of a remarkable fish. Others are made memorable by the sum total of a bunch of independently notable moments, surroundings, and the people you are with, though individually each wouldn't have made the day as exciting as it turned out to be. This post is about a day of fishing that I will never forget because it was full of extremely exciting and independently notable events. Each event on its own would have been memorable, and put together they result in one of the most wild and unique fishing days I have ever had.

On March 5th, Noah and I returned to the bridge we fished the night prior, spurred on by our quick success there, and began targeting the reef fish there. I started out fishing small nymphs and streamers under indicators again, this time defiant on getting new species on the fly and avoiding using bait as long as possible. I worked the water like it were a trout stream, casting my rig up and across current, mending, and watching my indicator for any shudder or tick or, in the best case scenario for it to just drop abruptly. What it produced, very immediately, was a ton of hairy blennies. But eventually my rod bent under the weight of something a little more substantial, and when I saw the fish break the surface I could hardly contain my excitement. This was likely the most dangerous fish I'd ever set a hook in, and I'm the sort of person that gets enjoyment out of being around wildlife that can be dangerous under the wrong conditions; be it venomous snakes, large ungulates, big cats, or, in this case, a venomous fish. There are a number of venomous fish species in South Florida, including invasive lionfish, but in this case I'd caught myself a spotted scorpionfish... on a nymph under an indicator. Ain't that somethin'?

Spotted scorpionfish, Scopraena plumieri. Life list fish #159. Rank: species.

The dorsal spines of a scorpionfish inject a painful venom into anything they penetrate. Stepping on, poking, or grabbing a scorpionfish is not a good idea. Though not deadly, any envenomation by a scorpionfish demands medical attention. I was very careful with this fish.

Upon release it was quite clear how someone could step on a scorpionfish. He is there... can you see him?

Not that long after I caught the first, I caught another spotted scorpionfish. Look at this fish and consider everything about it and everything that went into catching it. Look how beautiful it is. Look at how well evolved it is as a small ambush predator. Now you may have some sense of exactly why it is that I do what I do. These fish are incredible.

I caught a number of other species on the fly that day, but no new species. I did catch a schoolmaster snapper, a species I'd only caught one of before.

Schoolmaster snapper, Lutjanus apodus

And, after a while, I started to fish bait in an attempt to catch enough good sized spottail pinfish for a meal later. While using bait I caught this beautiful terminal phase slippery dick: 

Halichoeres bivittatus

By midday we had a pretty decent pile of spottail pinfish and Noah decided to cut some up to use as bait. Standing in the water at the edge of the sloping concrete bridge abutment, he started to cut up the fish and discard the guts in the water next to him.

Uhh... don't do this. It's a stupid idea. Don't essentially chum the very water you are standing. 

I was minding my own business 20 yards away when I heard Noah give a frightened yell and jump out of the water. He yelled "Holy s*** I just got attacked by a huge moray eel!". Attracted by the pinfish guts, a green moray eel had lunged at him and fortunately not made contact. I went over there and we looked around to see if the fish was still around. It was, we found it sticking its big scary head out of the crevice under the concrete slab. It was indeed an imposing creature. We immediately set about trying to catch it.

Noah was the first person to hook it. A chunk of pinfish very quickly got grabbed. It didn't last, and soon Noah was running up to the car for the shark rod. He hadn't even left when I put a chunk of pinfish on a fly and lobbed it to the monster. It ate, I set the hook, and it promptly retracted into the crevice. I was still on though and the fish hadn't yet buried itself. I put my hand in the face of the reel, locking it down completely, pointed the rod directly at the fish. To my enjoyment this actually worked quite well, I was able to keep the fish from going deeper into the crevice. I Even got it to come out a little further. But 30lb fluoro can only take being grated against cement for so long before it gives, and eventually it broke. But I'm confident that, had I been using wire, I'd have been able to pull that fish out of its hole with my 10 weight. I very nearly did so with fluoro. I'd been told in the past I wouldn't be able to fight and land a moray eel on a fly rod... I'm now entirely certain I could do so, but less certain I could easily convince one to eat an artificial. Noah came back with the shark rod. Things devolved into chaos. The shark rod did not last. He stood much too close to the fish's position, forcing him to have too much of a high rod angle. I repeatedly told him to walk backwards. Yes, the water was deeper behind him, but I could see what was coming. On the third time Noah hooked the big morray (this was a remarkably persistent fish), when it broke off the rod whipped back, hit the bridge piling, and exploded. I knew it would happen. High rod angles on big fish are almost always a bad idea.

Eventually, we just did what we should have done from the start and tried to handline the fish. We lost a good many hooks to it before it finally decided to leave, and perhaps the most remarkable thing is that most of the hooks we lost to it were never even in its mouth. The fish was so strong that it was able to break off the hook simply by yanking on the chunk of meat. After that monster green moray left, we were int the mood for redemption and looked round for another. There was a tiny one that I embarrassed for bit, but eventually we found  substantial one. It wasn't nearly as big as the first but big enough. I tied a size two hook only 90lb wire, and Noah and I prepared to wrench the fish out of its rocky hole as a team. I caught a hairy blenny, which the moray consumed whole, somehow without getting the hook. I caught more bait, put it in front of the fish, and this time it got hooked. We pulled like hell and walked toward the bank, wrenching that powerful creature out of its hole and finally catching the little monster. It was an incredible and even scary creature. We were on top of the moon in that moment.

Gymnothorax funebris

Sometimes, the struggle is what makes the day. When you plan on fighting the bridge troll, you'd better come prepared and with your wits about you. That first moray kicked our asses. But I've very proud that I fought it on the fly rod and it wasn't the fact that I was using fly tackle that led to the loss of the fish. I WILL catch a large moray eel on fly tackle, if only so that some people have to eat crow....

One rod, all of our pinfish, a few hairy blennies, a couple feet of line, and a bunch of hooks were lost that day. I'm not sure I'd change the outcome though. It's a much better story.

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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