BY JOE BALOG

Last month, I let you in on a very important project. Dissatisfied with the notable decline in fishing on the St. Johns River, a group of individuals have set out to discover just what happened to the “Bass-Fishing Capital of the World,” and what can be done to restore it.

I should back up. My career in the fishing industry has placed me in a unique situation, where I might sit in on a resource meeting one day, and communicate with anglers the next. And by now, you know me as a real junkie for Florida bass-fishing. Living close to the biggest freshwater resource in the state is no accident.

But the St. Johns River is not the fishery it once was. You see, in the early days of Florida tourism, the St. Johns was the place to be if you were a bass fisherman. Anglers came from all over the country to experience this heaven on Earth, where 10-pound bass barely raised an eyebrow.

Numerous fish camps operated up and down the river. Small, family-run motels took the overflow. The boat ramps were crowded, as were the local restaurants and watering holes. Bait shops sold shiners by the millions.

Those days are behind us now. While the St. Johns still offers decent fishing for speckled perch, bass-fishing is poor at best by Florida standards. Only a handful of local fishing guides remain in business, usually heading elsewhere with their clients.

In addition, the St. Johns River is overlooked as an ecotourism destination. Bordered by federally protected land, the environment offers unique opportunities for birders, manatee lovers and paddle sport enthusiasts. Yet very little attention is given to the river itself — even from the agencies that literally own the land along its banks. No single group seems willing to represent the interests of outdoor-minded visitors.

This makes no sense. How is it that Florida’s bass-fishing Holy Land could decline so quickly? And why hasn’t there been more of a blowback in regard to local tourism and ecological concerns? A gigantic lack of communication occurs between those in charge of managing the river, and those hoping to enjoy it. Where did we go wrong?

Now, before we go any further, it’s important to address the challenges facing this unique place. Aquatic vegetation — specifically the weeds known as invasives — are a pain, but they’re here to stay. Our state spends millions of dollars annually to fend off the likes of water hyacinths, hydrilla and water lettuce. Without management of some kind, these plants have the ability to wreak havoc on our waterways. But is the current management of these plants to blame for the fishing decline?

Another consideration is exotic fish. Right now, I’d wager there are more tilapia in the St. Johns River than largemouth bass, and that’s no hyperbole. They compete for spawning locations with our native game fish. To what extent is unknown.

Urbanization is a threat to all of Florida’s wildlife, and we have no exception around here. Regulations on watershed controls are lacking. A number of groups are working hard to sample the river’s water quality, and the results aren’t always promising. Little is being done to safeguard against the threats that continue to come from development.

Fish habitat has been greatly reduced in recent years due to muck accumulation on many parts of the St. Johns. This has never been studied to my knowledge, and no baseline exists for measuring silt and turbidity.

In short, it’s status quo, and hope for the best. If you’re not happy with the fishing, go elsewhere. If you’re concerned with the spraying of aquatic herbicides, take a number. If you’re worried about further decline, that’s out of our control.

The new nonprofit organization is setting out to change this narrative. In the past, citizens concerned over the health of the St. Johns River were given little hope in making a change. But the world is now a different place. Resource-focused groups are making progress in Florida. Success lies in organization and specific action, combined with the ability to reach thousands through social networking.

Mighty River Recovery is the group intending to represent you at the table. After dozens of conversations with local anglers, river lovers and outdoor enthusiasts, the need for a unifying body became apparent. Sitting in on meetings with groups like the Florida FWC, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and the St. Johns River Water Management District further illustrated the disconnect. Make no mistake — the leaders of these groups are aware of this lack of communication, and see the concern from their citizenry. Remember, we pay their salaries.

Other NPOs have made an impact on the health of our river — specifically the St. Johns Riverkeeper. This powerful organization is truly an independent voice in the fight to keep our waters clean. But their challenges are monumental, often dealing with water quality issues at the Tallahassee level, combating the relentless disregard for our watershed. How can they possibly devote time to fish and wildlife?

While other initiatives get the state’s attention and the dollars, the St. Johns River is left behind. Hundreds of millions go toward restoration of the Indian River Lagoon, the Everglades, even nearby Lake Apopka. Yet the only major project designed to combat habitat challenges on the St. Johns River — an initiative championed by passionate members of the FWC to replant eelgrass — struggles to come up with any significant funding. In short, our largest freshwater resource is being left out of the conversation, continuing down the same path of decline.

Why? Because the squeaky wheel gets the grease, and there has yet to be an effective voice. Mighty River Recovery intends to be that voice.

How? By joining together the local community in a unified direction. By sitting in on the meetings, offering alternative ideas, and not taking no for an answer. And by networking with existing groups focused on habitat benefits — from the Riverkeeper to the FWC to fishing groups like BASS — in an effort to move the needle.

To stop accepting the status quo, and build a group dedicated to the monumental concerns our river continues to face, while rebuilding the habitat so vital to its health. And bringing others in to enjoy the experience that only the St. Johns River, as one of the last remaining wild places in Central Florida, can provide.

I’m a founding member of Mighty River Recovery. We’re the wheel, and we intend to squeak. Anyone, and everyone, can get involved and add to our impact. To join this nonprofit group dedicated to a new direction for the St. Johns River, visit www.mightyriverrecovery.org, or find us on Facebook or Instagram.

We’re St. Johns River lovers. And we want our fun back.