We all fill with anticipation before a trip. It’s human nature. It starts at the vise, when you’re making those creations that will hopefully fool the lunkers. Then, as you pack your gear, you dream about the fish you’re going to catch.
For me, when I head to south Florida, I’m fantasizing about snook and tarpon. Redfish, seatrout, jacks, and other species are all on the table, but snook and tarpon are the focus of the expectations.
Ah, expectations. There’s the word right there. For expectations can lead to disappointment, to frustration, such familiar, if unwelcome, emotions to the fly fisher.
The business end of a Mayan cichlid. This one took a bead-chain Clouser Minnow.
On a recent Tuesday I launched my kayak at the East River landing, a place I’d never been before, visions of snook and tarpon in my head. Another kayaking fly fisher was launching at the same time. He assured me that snook and tarpon were present in good numbers, even suggested flies to use and spots to try. I followed his advice. Did I catch, or even see, any snook or tarpon? No. What I caught were Mayan cichlids. I didn’t drive five hours to catch Mayan cichlids. Where are the snook and tarpon? Five hours of casting brought plenty of cichlids, but nothing else.
The next morning I launched at the Halfway Creek Kayak Launch. Again, I had never been there before. The Glades Fly Bum had suggested it to me. Two fly fishers were launching a Gheenoe at the same time. One of them assured me there were plenty of snook and tarpon present, and suggested which flies to try and spots to try, even gave me a fly. Thank you! When I started fishing my way down the canal, all I caught were cichlids and largemouth bass. I didn’t drive five hours down here for cichlids and bass!
A good-sized Mayan cichlid. They fight like bluegills, and while they won’t pull drag they will put a bend in the rod.
Lunchtime came. While eating my snack, I considered the situation. The weather was outstanding. Temperature in the mid-seventies, plenty of sunshine, poofy white cumulus clouds floating overhead, winds light and variable. I wanted snook and tarpon. In nearly ten hours of fishing, I had yet to even see one of either, much less catch one. I was feeling disappointment and frustration. On a perfect weather day! What’s wrong with this picture?
On the other hand, bass and cichlids were plentiful and willing. Were those fish my fantasy species when I was planning my trip? No. Were they what was available? Oh, yes. Stop being dumb, John. Embrace the cichlid!
Mayan cichlids are colorful fish!
I fished for bass and cichlids all afternoon, catching fish after fish. It was fun! Cichlids pull hard! I tried a popper and dropper, getting both bass and cichlids on both flies (no doubles, unfortunately). I started thinking of cichlids as tropical bluegills. They’re as aggressive as bluegills, and have a similar body shape. They’re much more colorful, and tend to be larger, than bluegills. I was using a six-weight (snook and tarpon, remember) but found myself wishing for a four-weight.
It was amazing how much that attitude shift did for my enjoyment of those wonderful fish. It was the best thing I could have done. When life gives you lemons, yada yada yada.
That evening the Glades Fly Bum showed up at my campsite, as planned. We’d never met before, and chatted about people we knew, and stars and planets, and fishing, and specifically about snook and tarpon, and cichlids. He asked me, “Have you ever eaten a cichlid?” I admitted I had not. He said, “Once you eat one, you’ll never release another one. They’re awesome eating!” I’ll have to try that sometime, but not this trip.
This oscar came as a surprise, but it was another species in the grab bag my last day there.
The morning found us launching at a spot the Glades Fly Bum made me promise not to mention. Glades Fly Bum said, “The water is low. The fish will be trapped in here.” The cichlids and bass were even more aggressive than the previous day. I got a red-eared sunfish. I got a sizable spotted gar. I jumped a tarpon. I caught an oscar. I even got a little snook. Had I spent more time I could have easily had a fifty fish day. But I had to drive home (it was a short trip), so I happily settled for whatever I got in three hours, including plenty of bass and Mayan cichlids. I had a blast.
Don’t forget the snook and tarpon, though.
Anyone reading this on Rivers and Feathers already has the tackle needed to catch cichlids. A four-weight would be perfect, although you might want to go heavier than that- remember those pesky snook and tarpon. I used a floating line with a ten-foot leader tapered down to 20-pound test. I didn’t break off any fish, but remember those pesky snook and tarpon! Unweighted Wooly Boogers may be the perfect flies, but they need to be tied on saltwater hooks- yes, you may get bit by snook or tarpon. I also had luck with feather streamers like Seaducers and Cockroaches, but my impression was that the fish were not very fussy. Poppers? Oh, yes, absolutely. And, snook and tarpon will hit poppers, too.
Next time I drive to south Florida, visions of snook and tarpon will still be in my head. They are my favorite fish, and are species that are not terribly common in my central Florida waters for much of the year. But I will have a four-weight with me, too. For I have learned to embrace the cichlid.
Tight lines!
