MIAMI, Florida--I kept my mind on the fishing in spite of the occasional scantily clad young lady sun bathing a few yards away. It wasn't easy. The sun was warm. The pretty girls were out. The water was clear. The fish weren't really tearing up our lures.

Besides, there is something about drifting around the canals that crisscross the city of Miami, and fishing right in the backyards of people in a city that is not noted for the population having a cool trigger finger, that gives a person a new level of caution. That was probably one reason why I forced myself not to pay a lot of attention to the young ladies, no matter how gorgeous they were.

I was in Florida to fish for peacock bass. Peacock bass are not native to Florida. They are a brightly colored, hard-fighting fish from South America that are aggressive and known to tear up light tackle. They were put in the Miami canals by the Florida Wildlife Department in an effort to control the booming population of exotic aquarium fish in the canals.

I was fishing the canals with Miami's best-known peacock bass guide, Alan Zaremba. For several years Alan has been guiding anglers through the maze that is Miami's system of canals where the peacock bass have been stocked. Alan takes two anglers out in a boat and charges a reasonable boat fee of $125 per day for a half-day of peacock bass fishing and $150 per day for a full day of fishing (he does not provide soft drinks, meals, or snacks).

Alan can provide local lodging for an additional $30 per night; If you don't have your own tackle Alan will rent you the appropriate rigs for $10 per day.

Fishing for peacock bass isn't all that different from fishing for largemouth bass. The fish are caught on many of the same lures and the methods used are the same. The trick in peacock bass fishing, and why you need a guide if you plan to try it, is to know where the fish are in the Miami rat maze of canals. When the temperature drops, the fish react very quickly to weather changes and will move from their holding area near rocks to deeper water where several canals come together.

We were using the flipping method to entice the peacock bass from their nests. When Alan first explained the method to me he was surprised to discover that I had been flipping for years.

"I first used fishing in the delta country of the Sacramento River back in the seventies," I said.

Alan looked at me like I was from Mars, then handed me a casting rig with a brightly colored jig on the end of the line. "You need to put it right in front of their noses," he said.

We could see the fish. All of them were only a foot or so from the rocks, finning slowly to stay in one place. I spent most of the morning flipping the jig in front of fish, only to have them ignore it every time. Alan seemed to be holding his tongue just right because he caught several fish while showing me what I thought I was doing.

After half the morning had been wasted with my flogging of water, I finally got a serious strike, which I missed. Thirty minutes later, after we'd drifted past a yard where another sun worshiper was turning brown under the Florida sun, I had a serious strike. Even better I set the hook. But, I must have disturbed the bathing beauty because she got up and left, which was just as well. I really needed to concentrate on the fish.

Alan had warned me peacock bass were rod bruisers, and my fish was no wimp. The fight was as spirited and exciting as any other freshwater fish I have tangled with. Bringing the peacock bass in was a battle to remember. I had to hold on to the fish and lead the rod around as it dived and fought the line and hook. After I got it close enough Alan plucked it from the water. I admired the fish while my fishing and hunting partner, Carolee Boyles-Sprenkel, got a few good pictures, then we put the peacock bass back in the water.

I flung the lure at several more fish and even managed to produce another strike but one fish was all I was going to catch that day. Our shadows were finally short, the sun high, and our half day of fishing for Miami's peacock bass was over. Alan powered up the boat and weaved his way back to where we had launched it, which was in the shadow of a big department store. I was satisfied. I had caught a peacock bass in a Miami canal and had photos to prove it. I was also determined to start organizing a trip to South America so I could go after the peacock bass in their native water.

Best,
Galen L. Geer