Peacock Plunger

Written by Brett Fitzgerald | 07 June 2009

Could a lure that mimics juvenile tilapia be the ticket to hooking up with truly hungry peacocks? Here's the reasoning: Tilapia, pictured above, were the most prevalent and consistent food item identified In studies of stomach contents of peacock bass.

Rather than flogging a bedding peacock with a clouser, try this!

A combination of research and connecting the right minds led to a new variation of a common saltwater fly that really gets ‘em.

It started about a year ago, when I met Paul Shafland, the FWC biologist responsible for introducing Cichla ocellaris to South Florida Waters. “From 1984 to 1987, we stocked about 20,000 peacocks in the box-cut canals of Miami-Dade and Broward canals,” says Shafland. “But prior to the stocking, we did plenty of research.”

He sent me some of his published, peer reviewed findings, and that is where the fun began.

Peacocks were introduced to South Florida canals to help control tilapia populations.

Shafland was very careful to make sure the Peacocks weren’t hurting the native largemouth bass population. After the peacocks were established, one of the indicators he used was stomach content – if the peacocks and largemouth were eating the exact same things, there might be cause for concern as the food web could become too thin at targeted points.

80% of all peacocks had identifiable juvenile spotted tilapia in their stomachs

But as it turns out, maybe partly due to the highly adaptive nature of Largemouth feeding habits, or possibly because of the different hunting nature of these fish, the forage items were variable enough and food competition was not a concern. Shafland went on to list the stomach contents of the peacocks he tested, and two numbers stuck in my mind. First, 80% of all peacocks had identifiable juvenile spotted tilapia in their stomachs. Second, 75% of all identifiable fish in the peacocks stomachs were, again, spotted tilapia. I remember asking Shafland about those numbers, and he told me, “Yeah. That’s the biggest reason we brought them in. Pretty neat, isn’t it?”

Now, I don’t have real deep roots in cold water trout fishing, but I have heard of the concept of “matching the hatch.” An overused expression, yes, but you get the idea. But first, let’s back up just a bit.

There was a reason this research caught my attention. On previous fly fishing trips targeting peacock bass, I found that the most common practice of fly fishing for peacocks was a wee bit less than graceful. First, you would find bedding peacocks, then tie on a bright, heavy clouser. Peacocks will defend a bed (both male and female) with ‘conspicuous acts of bravery’ that would earn the respect of a Medal of Honor recipient. So, you can ease your boat right up to the bed and beat the fish with your clouser until it gets agitated enough to finally bite. This might take 30 casts; sometimes from such close proximity that only the leader needs to be extended past the rod tip.

Trust me, I can hardly be accused of being a purist, but there was something decidedly unsporting about this practice. Back to the spotted tilapia research. A little internet search produced some great file photos of the juvenile fish. Next step: design a fly that can imitate this fish, in an attempt to get peacock bass to actually chase my lure, to fool them into wanting to bite my offering.

I took a drive to Boca Raton to harass Darren Selznick, owner of Ole Florida Fly Shop. I fed him my line, and showed him the photo, and asked his opinion. Now, mind you, I could have tried to design a fly on my own. But I thought this was such a neat idea that I had to drag someone else in. Plus, I’m not afraid to admit, Darren ties a much prettier fly than me. After just a couple days of thinking it over, Darren sent me a photo of his idea of what would work: a slightly modified version of the EP Bunker. And it looked great.

He sent me the list of ingredients, and discussed some key points to tying this fly. “You are going to want to wrap lead around the hook to get the fly down. EP fibers will float just a bit, so some extra weight is necessary,” he said. So I ran back down, purchased a bunch of the material, and quickly tied about 10 flies.

I didn’t tell Darren, but I skipped the lead wrap on just a few flies. Since I was trying to find a lure that the fish would chase, I was hoping that dropping the fly right in front of the peacock’s nose would not be necessary. After all, referring back to some of Shafland’s research, “a largemouth bass is an ambush hunter, while a peacock will use speed to chase its prey.” So here I was, armed with enough science to make me dangerous, and a beautiful fly that was begging to be tried out. There was only one thing left to do.

I called another friend, Brett Isackson of Bassonline.com. Brett guides South East Florida, and spends a lot of time catching peacock bass. I quickly gave him my story and asked him if he wanted to play along. “Sounds great, pick a day and let’s do it,” He offered. I e-mailed him a photo of the flies I tied, and that fueled his fire. His reply: “I am stoked! Those flies should be perfect, I can’t wait.”

Brett Isackson, of BassOnline.com, confirmed results with the EP Juv Tilapia fly.

This is about the time I get nervous. The pieces all came together too easily. The feeling that something had to go wrong just wouldn’t get away from me.

In spite of that gnawing “disaster is looming” feeling, I met Brett in South Broward County. We weaved through Miami traffic as the sky woke up. Both of us were excited about our prospects. We dropped his boat in the Airport Lakes area, and here’s where the first bump in the road came into play. Literally.

The water was extremely low, as there was a weather system supposedly passing through within the next 30 hours. Heavy rains were expected, so the water was drawn down, and dropping further as we stood on the ramp dock. Brett tried to back his boat in, but the trailer hit the safety bar that is intended to keep boaters from falling off the deep end. His boat wouldn’t budge from the high and dry trailer.

“Well, I’ll try the other side, maybe there’s a bit more room.” He said to no one in particular. With the boat moved over just a few feet, the engine in full reverse, and me pushing like Sysiphus, the boat let go of the skids and we were off.

With the water moving so fast, the clarity was nil in most waters that morning. Sight casting was not going to be an option at most spots. So we started blind casting towards the bank.

Each of us had a weighted EP-style tilapia. Brett was much better as seeing the fish, and was reporting several follows at the front of the boat. Then it happened – the unmistakable crushing blow of a hungry peacock.

This was the peacock bass strike I had read about. Hard, relentless, leaping and all the other good stuff you imagine with the big cichlid. I knew they were strong fighters, but when thumping them with clousers on their beds, the strike is much more subtle. In fact, usually you have to see the fish to distinguish between a “bite” and a “puff.” Peacocks will try to blow a lure off the beds, sometimes several times, before giving in and biting.

But this was a hungry bite, with no mistaking that you were connected to something that was ready to fight back.

During the release of that first 2-pound fish, Brett made the final suggestion that made the fly absolutely deadly. “You know, I like to add a dropper when I fish peacocks. They seem to always grab whatever lure I use as a trailing bait… I wonder what would happen if you tied two of those EP thingies in tandem.”

“Well, how do you suggest I go about it?” I asked.

“I would tie directly to the bend of the lead hook, and use 12” to 15” of about 12lb fluorocarbon.”

Done. After about 2 seconds thought, I decided to use one of the flies that had no lead wrapping around the hook shank, hoping that the difference in mass would create enough wind drag to keep the trailing lure behind the lead bait throughout the cast. Rigged and ready, I slung the twin lures a few times to establish a rhythm, and found that the lighter fly was the right choice. It consistently rolled over behind the front fly.

The next 5 casts produced 3 separate follows, and one hook-up. And we were still blind casting in murky water.

As we moved around the canal system, we found some dead-end canals that were clear. We decided to look for bedding bass to see if this lure would also pull fish from the beds. Again, the new fly worked as well or better than expected. The trailing fly had a neutral float in the water, and followed the lead at whichever depth I retrieved. The bass almost always struck the second fly, regardless of whether it was on a bed or chasing a “search presentation.” So, what we have is a story based on my capitalization on three other angler’s expertise. I “used” Shafland’s extensive research, Darren’s fly tying knowledge, and Brett’s angling expertise to come up with a gem of a lure. And even though none of this was really my idea, I get to name it (if for no other reason, because I beat them to the typewriter).

Darren suggested in keeping with “EP Juvenile Tilapia,” probably out of respect for Puglisi, who designed the materials and the original EP Bunker. But that was a little boring for me.

Brett was closer to my initial inclinations when he affectionately called it “that EP thingy,” but that might be just too “Saturday-Morningish” for a fly that really does the job.

My choice was the “EP Selznick,” sounds kinda like a Russian submarine, and just as deadly. Or maybe the “Archie Bunker,” to honor the peacock’s ornery disposition. But just the same, I guess we can go with Darren’s polite suggestion of “EP Juvenile Tilapia”

There is a follow-up to the story.

Two days after I fished with Brett, I called him to see if he had used the fly with any paying customers. “I was just about to call you. Two clients were fly fishing today, one had the new tandem EP tilapia rig, the other had a tandem clouser rig,” he said slowly.

“…and?”

“(pause) And your fly caught every fish,” he blurted out. I could hear him grinning through the phone. “It was awesome. The dad simply refused to change from the clouser. And today was the first day the son had ever cast a fly rod. I had to teach him how before we left.”

There’s your testimonial. Now belly up to the vise and get to work.