Black Bass of Florida

I can recall a time during the early seventies when black bass ruled any ditch that had water in it. The place was the state of Florida and in particular any canal leading away from I-75, Alligator Alley.

I-75 runs from Hialeah in the east, westward to Naples. Between those points you’ll find gators, cotton-mouth, panther, black bear, small deer, possibly skunk ape and of course, black bass. Alligator Alley runs though a swampy sawgrass marsh that naturally makes up most of what southern Florida is supposed to be. It is the natural habitat of the native Florida Black Bass. This bass is a great game fish and great fun to catch and reel in.

Some folks might be keen on the catch and release method for sustaining this natural resource. Opposed to crappie, bluegill and other sun fish, the bass is not my favorite eating. It will not compare to trout or even catfish, but can still be rendered quite edible. Confer with a native Floridian miss for that.

I parked off the side of I-75 and walked out onto this little point that jetted out into a small open expanse of water in the glades. I had a metallic red closed face Garcia reel and a shorter Shakespeare rod. On the opposite side, I saw a small micro-cove against the saw grass. There, I tossed an inch and a half rapala lure.

As soon as it hit the the surface, the water literally exploded. Like a Maytag washer, readying to ascend to outer space, the bass took the lure. It was 6 am, nearly forty years ago, and the thrashing is still going on a 5 pound test line.

I do not know if it was the last week of March or first week of April, but the bass were nesting, territorial and hungry.

The fish was furious and combative. It took me several minutes to land him. It was a noble bass and still in good enough shape for natural selection and another row.

And so I let him go. I was glad for the fish and proud of myself for eluding his throwing the hook. Everybody was a winner. The sun had already come up and I had to go to work. I turned to return to my van. I could now see trails extend from the path I trudged predawn. I heard movement in the sawgrass and knew it wasn’t lizards. It was a dragging sound and also very heavy. The gators were waking! Were they nesting too? I felt fear. Slowly, I continued without wasting time and made it to the van without incident. Just another day in Florida for a California boy and I left for California shortly there after.

Copyright 2010