Paddling the Mangroves: Florida Keys

 Florida Keys January 2022

After a long hunting season, I thought it wise to take my wife somewhere warm. Florida seemed like an excellent choice! The Keys are as far south and predictably warm as you can get in the US during January. However, as the date grew nearer, we saw that a cold front was predicted to arrive that would drop temperatures the coldest they had seen in a decade. Apparently we'd be bringing the Idaho cold with us!

We found a nice Air B&B centrally located to access the Keys and Miami. It was a large boat docked at a marina, surrounded by grass flats and mangroves, with access to free kayaks. There's no way fishing had any influence on my choice to stay here...

After a fun first day in Miami visiting the zoo, I realized we had one more day of decent weather before the cold snap hit. The next day would be our best opportunity to fish. 

I awoke relatively early and walked the marina. I was pleasantly surprised to find the water clear. My eyes went into fish-finding mode and it didn't take more than a few steps in front of the boat to locate a fish. Hello Mr. Barracuda! A large smile formed on my face. I walked a little further ahead to the back of the cove and found 2 more barracuda, along with a few mangrove snappers, needlefish and mullet.

I walked back to our boat, strung up a fly rod and tied on a clouser minnow. It wasn't hard to convince the 16 inch 'cuda to eat my fly. Soon, I was staring face-to-face with a mouthful of sharp, oversized teeth. Luckily, he hadn't swallowed the fly and it came right out. 

I tossed the small predator back in the water and continued over to where I'd seen the others. The next 'cuda was eager for another meal and devoured my fly. The teeth on these fish truly are impressive, just ask my fly after being eaten by only 2 fish.

The third barracuda didn't eat my fly on the first cast, but eventually decided to play on the fourth cast. The largest of the 3, a 20 inch fish, put up a strong battle before tiring.

Our "fishing day" was off to a great start. After a nice breakfast and a healthy slathering of sunscreen, Katie and I were ready for the kayak. Luckily, there was a tandem kayak, so I'd be able to paddle and control while Katie casted. 

The day was overcast, a favorable condition for ambush predators like snook. We paddled over to the mangrove edge along the main channel that lead into the marina and started casting. Katie was doing an excellent job of placing the fly into the mangrove pockets. I stressed to Katie how important it would be to muscle the fish out of the mangroves when one took. With a heavy rod and a stout leader, there'd be no excuse to have a small snook tangle in the mangroves. 

We'd worked along the edge for a hundred yards or so when Katie laid a perfect cast into a nice dark pocket with some considerable overhang. Katie only made one strip when a large shadow charged her fly, inhaling it. Calm and cool as a cucumber she continued stripping until her line was taut and set the hook. The snook charged back into the mangroves, pulling with all it's might, and Katie pulled back with fury. The fish was winning though, already back into some of the long mangrove tendrils hanging down in the water. No, no, no! I reversed paddled the kayak away from the mangroves the best I could, buying us some space from the dream-shattering vegetation. Luckily, the tendrils didn't extend very deep and the snook slowly came back toward us as Katie heaved on the rod. The fish now charged back toward the kayak and took a dive under the boat. Katie's rod doubled over as the fish dug for the deep grass. Once again though, Katie was ready, and the fish was now tiring. 

This fish was way bigger than any snook I'd ever caught and my excitement was evident. I finally scooped the fish into the net, it's tail nearly hanging out. I told Katie this fish was safe to lip like a bass and she held it up for a great picture.

We guessed the fish was between 25 and 30 inches. We sent it on it's way and continued fishing. I was beyond excited for Katie. By the look on her face, however, Katie was a bit anxious. It seemed all that commotion had stirred up some deep trepidation of what lurked in the ocean depths. Katie's one true phobia is of sharks.

"You going to be ok?" I asked, a bit confused. "Was the snook too big?"

"No, the snook was fine. It's whatever creature might want to eat the snook when it's thrashing on my line." She replied, focusing on her breathing.

"We'll be fine. We're going to go into this bay where the water is shallower."

"Okay..."

We paddled around the corner where it opened up into a large bay fenced in by mangroves with small mangrove islands. No shortage of water to work, hopefully we'd find some fish. Katie continued casting and casting. I fished a bit too but we weren't finding anything but small barracudas chasing our flies.

The owner of the boat we were staying on said there was a neat "tiki hut" back in a mangrove pond in the back of the bay. We paddled around until we found the small channel leading to it. It opened up into a small pond with a covered dock in the middle of it. Schools of mullet could be seen swimming around to and fro. 

We ate a nice lunch on the dock and continued on, working our way back toward home base. We saw more barracudas and mangrove snappers, but nothing was too aggressive. Luckily, the one snook wanted to play, saving the day.

We spent the next couple days traveling down to Key West and over to Flamingo to see the everglades. We saw Key Deer, alligators, manatees and lots of neat birds. The cold snap had hit, bringing nighttime lows in the high 30's and daytime highs in the low 50's with a strong, bone chilling wind; hardly the warm Florida we hoped for. Even the skin-healing humidity was gone.

We awoke the day before we had to leave, knowing if we were to go fishing again, this would have to be our day. It was sunny, but still slightly cool and breezy, with the high reaching the mid 60's. 

We paddled a different direction this time, ending up in a calm, shallow cove. We saw a few small barracudas, but the cold weather made them lethargic. Katie was about to re-cast when a fish appeared out of nowhere and ate her fly. Suspecting it to be a small barracuda, I was very surprised to see a mystery fish come thrashing to the surface.

"What in the world is that fish?" Katie asked.

"Dang, that's weird. Never seen anything like that in my life." I added. "It's mouth is full of small teeth and it's head kinda looks like a lizard's."

We released the fish and continued fishing. Later investigation revealed it's identity; a lizard fish.

The morning sun had the iguanas out in full force. We started noticing them sunning themselves in the branches of the mangroves. It seemed where there was one, there were others. We later found out it was only the brown males we were seeing. Numerous times when we would paddle into the mangroves to remove our fly from the vegetation, there would be a green colored iguana just chilling in amongst the leaves right by our fly. It became a game of who could spot the most iguanas!

 

(This photo has 3, can you spot them?)

The bright skies and the recent cold snap certainly had the fish put off. We worked the mangroves hard, though.    

We spotted several very large, but very spooky barracuda that wanted nothing to do with our flies. We also wandered into a deep water pocket next to the mangroves that had a couple nice tarpon. They too were uninterested. I also teased a sheepshead out of the mangroves to investigate my fly. I eventually convinced a small barracuda to eat.

We returned to the boat with plenty of afternoon left. 

"Do you want to try the canals in Miami for peacock bass?" Katie asked.

"Well, I suppose we could!" I replied, always up for more fishing.

We made the short drive up to Miami and stopped at a canal that had been recommended by a guy in the local fly shop. The walk-bridge that took us to the other side of the canal provided a nice overlook on the canal waters. The water was stained and appeared very deep. Movement caught my eye as a peacock bass who had been sunning himself shot into the depths, disappearing. My optimism was high!

I made cast after cast along the canal without so much as a follow. We walked along the waters edge where giant snail shells crunched under our feet and startled iguanas dove into the water like bullfrogs. We feared the colder temps also had the bass put off. By near dark, we admitted defeat and drove back to our boat home.

The following day we would be flying home; but not before we tried the canals one last time. This time we tried a different canal. This one was also marked by the same deep, dark waters. Once again, the fish did not want to play. I tried different flies and presentations without any luck. 

"I'm sorry you didn't get your peacock bass, honey." Katie said with a frown.

"It's ok. This just means I'm going to have to go to Brazil or Columbia to get one!" I replied with a mischievous smile. 

"Oh, I suppose..."

Even though we brought the Idaho cold with us to Florida, we had a wonderful time. Katie caught a dandy snook and we found a few barracuda. This trip only made us want to travel back to Florida again, but hopefully next time the conditions would be in our favor.