You ever get a topwater bite that makes you pee your pants a little? I got one of those last summer when a buddy of mine, Paul Michele, invited me to fish some south Florida canals out of his canoe. That said, a bass is not what caused my temporary incontinence.
“Have you ever caught a snakehead?” Michele asked a month before my trip to Florida.
“Why would I want to do that? Sounds gross,” I responded.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he planned a canoe trip to one of the seemingly endless miles of canals north of Miami. Besides the canoe, which we had to launch on a steep embankment of sand that would ensure I’d physically test the temperature of the water (it was hot), we brought only two baitcasting rigs loaded with 80-pound braid and hollow topwater frogs.
A 12-volt trolling motor (don’t even get me started about getting the battery to the canoe) and a couple of waters completed our gear list. All loaded, I fell into the canoe and off we went.
This particular section of canal was rural. Native flora lined the edges, mainly grasses and palms of different varieties, with agricultural fields beyond. The setting was wild, even though a tremendous population of Floridians lived just a few miles down the road. The depth of the canal was constant in the middle, but the edges had differing degrees of sand deposits, making some areas shallower than others. And the aquatic vegetation grew only a foot or two off the bank on both sides.
“Make long casts parallel to the bank, landing your frog as close to land as possible,” Michele instructed. “It’s not unusual to get a bite in a couple inches of water. You may catch a bass. You may catch a peacock. Or you may get abused by a monster snakehead. You just never know.”
For historical perspective, the bullseye snakehead was first documented in 2000. It’s different than the northern version you’ve likely heard of, as it dies in water temps exceeding 50 degrees. The current record is around 14 pounds. Now, there is furious debate on how this fish is impacting the bass fishery, which was once the best in the world. That debate is mostly moot, however, as these fish have been breeding for the past 20 years. There is no getting rid of them unless Mother Nature decides to send an ice storm to Miami. So, anglers have decided to enjoy the sport they offer, and they are exceptional table fare. (For more information on this fish and the other crazy exotics found in south Florida, check out Doug Olander’s feature in the March 2023 issue of Bassmaster Magazine.)
“Whoa!” Michele yelled, as the water erupted around his frog. Line screamed off his reel, his rod doubled over and then what appeared to be a log jumped out of the water, thrashing with reckless abandon. Using a gripper, he carefully landed the fish. It did look like something out of a horror film, but in a beautiful way. Its teeth were big and plentiful, its fins abundant and its markings bright and ornamental. We weighed the fish … 8 1/2 pounds of fury.
Several minutes later, I made a cast onto the bank, missing my target by a few inches. Irritated, I twitched the frog a little too hard and it landed 4 inches off the bank where, it seemed, a naval mine had been planted. Before the spray of water settled back on the surface, I was forced to simply hang on. No hook set needed. The fight was short, but intense. I used the grippers to pull my first snakehead, 6 pounds, from the steaming waters of that rural Florida canal. And after that bite, I made two vows. First, I would be coming back to fish for these creatures again. Secondly, I was going to check the price of adult diapers before I returned.