Photo by Ron Sinfelt

Captain Alan Zaremba eased his bass boat towards a huge tree that overhung almost half of the canal that we were to fish in. In the relative calm of the early morning, we could hear the subtle whir of his electric motor as we made our approach. Now and then, we'd hear the crowing of a rooster or the barking of a dog.

Picking up my rod to start casting under the overhanging branches, I heard two large splashes behind me and spun around to fire a cast towards the explosions,

"Don't bother," Zaremba laughed. "They're just iguanas."

I gazed carefully at the remnants of the watery disturbances and saw each of them give birth to green serpentine forms that wagged across the surface towards the shoreline.

Quickly assessing the best potential areas for spot-casting, I chose a group of partially submerged rocks under the canopy of the large tree. With a smart flick of my wrist, my 6-pound spinning outfit easily transported the gold Rapala swimming plug from my rod tip to my target.

As soon as the lure landed, I twitched it twice. Just as I was about to begin a fast retrieve, a huge bulge of deep green water humped up and engulfed my plug.

I waited for my line to come tight and then struck the fish with all the authority the light mono could muster. The rod quickly arced downward, indicating a potentially good hook-set. The drag began screaming as the watery hump made a run for the depths and the tangle of branches that would spell disaster for my light line.

But halfway to reaching that spot, the fish slowed. Taking advantage of the pause, I pulled harder on my rod.

Moments later, the fish crashed through the surface and went airborne with angry headshakes. It was a fine gold-hued peacock bass of perhaps 5 pounds.

The subsequent three minutes of battle reflected the caution and finesse needed to catch a fish that large with light tackle. It appeared I'd made the right moves as the rainbow-colored battler slid alongside Zaremba's boat for photos and release.

With such a mélange of images, it was easy to imagine that the captain and I were on a rural canal in tropical South America. The fascinating truth was that we were fishing in an urban setting barely a mile from the Miami International Airport!

SOUTH FLORIDA PEACOCKS
According to Zaremba, peacocks complement the largemouth populations in Dade and Broward counties for a number of reasons.