Several years ago, I caught a mixed bag of four dozen bluegills and shellcrackers during a single, glorious afternoon. While that was practically all the law allowed, the real kicker is that these fish weighed close to a pound apiece. I was fishing a tournament on Lake Okeechobee, and on the afternoon in question, I fished out of Buckhead Ridge with a very good guide named Mike Backich. Don’t remember whether Mike remembers that trip, but for me, it remains a revelation. If I’m sure of anything, it’s that if I go out and land a blue marlin on a kite string, it could hardly surpass the sheer serendipity of tricking that many fat, sassy sunfish. I went from last place to second in a matter of hours, but then Mike knew where to look for truly big bream.
I live in South Florida where a half-dozen native panfish species compete with a growing list of exotics, so confusion is inevitable. Although many claim the latter upset the ecological applecart (a supposition that’s rooted in fact), exotics are just as much fun to catch as natives. Whatever your preference, an education in the habits of panfish is always worth the cost of tuition.
For starters, big panfish are elusive. Yet every species eventually comes within the reach of fly fishermen. Scientifically speaking, the several species we Floridians collectively refer to as bream (pronounced “brim”) are just plain, ordinary sunfish. Be aware that like other freshwater dwellers, they feed best, and spawn at particular times of year. For instance, if you go to Lake Okeechobee in November in hopes of catching a trophy bluegill, you’ll probably be disappointed. On the other hand, if you return in May you’ll be pleasantly surprised. Read more…