Species Galore, Mysterious Sawfish Kills, and More: My Trip to the Florida Keys
Prior to last month, neither myself or Grady had ever been down to the heralded Florida Keys. Naturally, instead of going together, we thought it a grand plan to go two weeks apart from each other on completely different trips (idiots…). It wasn’t really our fault though, as he was down there for work and I went to visit a friend, so the timing just didn’t work out in our favor. My buddy works as a shark biologist and marine educator in the Keys and he had graciously invited me to sleep on his couch for a few days while he showed me some of the work he was doing and gave me the lowdown on the general Keys vibe. The first day I hung around the research facility and helped prep for an upcoming sharking trip they had planned for a few days in advance. As we were setting up an impressive longline rig and I was submerging myself in a vat of sunscreen, he told me about some recent headlines that were scaring biologists around the state.
Over the last few months, 20 endangered sawfish have been found dead floating throughout the lower Keys, and there seems to be little to no explanation to why this is happening. While 20 may seem inconsequential in the context of a species population, scientists estimate that there are only around 400 female sawfish left in Florida waters, making this a serious issue. The strange part about these deaths is the associated behavior that has been observed. There were reports and videos of sawfish behaving irregularly, swimming in circles and spiraling down to the bottom. The most concerning part to me is that the culprit is seemingly unknown, and it may take weeks to months to identify the cause. Additionally, this erratic behavior does not appear to be exclusive to sawfish. Sightings of other fish in the lower keys meandering in circles and acting strange have also been reported, indicating that this may be a more widespread issue. With all the biologists that I spoke to about this, there seemed to be a quiet, nagging worry that this mystery assailant could reek havoc throughout the Keys. I thought best to drop it - luckily, my buddy had been able to borrow a few fishing rods from the storage shed, so it was time to rig up and get our lines in the water.
Porkfish
We didn’t have a ton of time to fish, so I just stuck with what I knew would at least give us a taste of the fishing in the upper Keys. I ran to the local tackle shop, tied up some hi-low rigs, bought some frozen shrimp, and we took off to the closest bridge we could find, which was a beautiful expansive structure with a built in pedestrian walkway and fishing corridor - I was starting to like this place. The second the shrimp hit the bottom it was ravaged by a posse of hundreds of fish of all species, and while all the fish we caught were quite small, I got a great display of the natural diversity in these ecosystems. The benefit of fishing with a Keys biologist was that he could identify each species within seconds, so we started a species count and tried to hit double digits. We caught mutton snapper, porkfish, yellowtail snapper, blue-striped grunt, French grunt, mangrove snapper, and sergeant-major damselfish, putting our collective species count to seven. If I had more time, I would have come prepared with larger bucktails or plastics to try and weed out some of the smaller fish, but it was fun just to get a taste of the local fishing scene. We ended the night eating tripletail sandwiches and drinking loaded bloody Mary’s and margaritas and got some good rest, as he was leading an educational snorkeling trip the next morning and somehow scored me a spot on the boat.
Yellowtail snapper
Crystal clear water and impeccable visibility combined to make an extraordinary reef viewing experience. If I thought the diversity under that bridge was impressive, this was a whole new world. We saw endless fish species congregating amongst the coral, so much so that one of the co-instructors referred to it as an “aquarium day”. The sheer species variety was shocking for someone who grew up snorkeling in the northeast, where you’d be lucky to see one cunner and maybe a striped bass on a good day. The reef was beautiful, although my friend dutifully reminded me that only about 3% of it was still alive - the rest had bleached and was simply skeletal remnants. We saw a few gems, including a massive shoal of barracuda and a large nurse shark feeding mindlessly on the seafloor. As I had found out first hand, the Keys are a pretty extraordinary place, teeming with all sorts of life and ripe with fishing and diving opportunities. I certainly will be back to give the Keys a deeper dive, providing, of course, that I can leech off the hospitality of my friend and avoiding paying for accommodations.
- Declan
