BY JOE BALOG

As local flooding fills the headlines and residents face monumental issues, we must not forget about our river. The mighty St. Johns serves as both a problem and a solution in these times. Those closest to its waters anxiously check levels, yearning for a drop. River-lovers like me, dependent on the outdoors for a bit of sanity, grow concerned over the river’s health and the impacts of the storm.

Many of us will remember the flooding in 2017 and 2018, following hurricanes Matthew and Irma, effectively wiping out the St. Johns River. Widespread fish kills were the result. Then, it seemed the water would never recede.

A little biology on those events is helpful. The fish kills were reportedly due to low oxygen in the system, a result of decomposing nutrients being flushed from the adjacent swamplands. This is a fairly common occurrence in lowland environments. Prior to Hurricane Matthew, our area hadn’t experienced exceptionally high water in quite some time, leading to a buildup of these materials.

Lately, we’re experiencing more flushes. We all remember 2022. With our most recent flood event, that makes five of the six high-water records occurring since 2017.

More than nutrients come into the river in times like these, something our local nonprofit Mighty River Recovery is keeping front of mind. Together with the St. Johns Riverkeeper, these organizations are addressing wastewater complaints, access limitations and pesticide concerns.

Luckily, it appears we’ll be spared a fish kill this time. And while this is no consolation to folks dealing with flooding in their homes, at least it gives us a little escape.

A recent trip to the St. Johns found me initially dealing with a boat ramp blockade. The Volusia Sheriff’s Office closed public access to prevent irresponsible operators from throwing boat wakes into residences.

Changing plans on the fly, I found the private ramp at Highland Park Fish Camp open for business. No houses to worry about in this stretch. Sliding my boat into the flooded jungle proved surreal, as waters still crested the docks. The parking lot was busy, a sure sign of others like me trying to escape cabin fever.

I quickly found wildlife functioning as normal. Egrets and herons were taking advantage of everything pouring into the system, from frogs and snakes to mice and minnows. All make a satisfying snack.

A trip up to Lake Woodruff found a half-dozen boaters finishing up their day. And, as I quickly realized, it wasn’t joyriding that brought the others out there.

I don’t often use the terms “incredible” or “fish in a barrel” when describing results. But, as the catches of the others confirmed, these may be times for exception.

You see, extreme conditions can create extreme results outdoors, both highs and lows. I have little confidence in the bass fishing around these parts. High water always makes it tough to track down bass. I must say, though, the speckled-perch fishing has been, well, incredible.

Specks, as we call them, are more correctly termed black crappies. These members of the sunfish family reproduce quickly and gather in large schools. When an angler is fortunate enough to stumble across a school, the results are often memorable.

Crappies are popular all over the U.S. Some waterways require the use of high-tech sonar and sophisticated techniques for success. Around here, decades of catching specks on Lake Woodruff have proved to local anglers that the best method involves simply trolling a curly-tailed jig behind the boat at slow speeds. Some anglers tip the jig with a minnow when the bite is tough. My solution is to try multiple jig colors and keep on trucking.

Dialing in your trolling technique is easy nowadays. Just about every electric motor on the market allows anglers to set a consistent speed. Start at 1 mile-per-hour, and adjust in small increments.

A light jig weighing 1/16 of an ounce will do the job on 6-pound fishing line. Just toss it out behind the boat, and troll around. Couldn’t be simpler.

Now remember what we said about a crappie’s affinity to gather. Herein lies the real trick to big catches. Repeat trolling passes through productive areas. Whatever it takes to mark the spot, from an onboard GPS to a water bottle and a string, be absolutely sure to hit the same locations repeatedly.

Longer rods will get more bites, especially if you combine one off each side, along with a third pole out the back. Sometimes it seems trolling far away from the boat is key, other times it really doesn’t matter.

I had set out for an afternoon as a joyrider but quickly found my groove as an angler. On my way in, I couldn’t help but pull over for a photo of a rare flower and to listen to the song of the limpkins. A handful of healthy specks were an added bonus to an already successful trip.

I simply can’t go too long without time on the St. Johns. Old Florida has a way of healing in times like these, grounding me when the impacts of our growing society seem overwhelming. Perhaps it does the same for you, and I’ll see you out there.