Disclaimer: These postings were sent to us from a variety of media sources over the Internet. The content has not been reviewed for scientific accuracy or edited in any manner.

Copyright 1998 Stuart News Company

The Stuart News/Port St. Lucie News (Stuart,FL)

April 6, 1998, Monday

SECTION: A Section; Pg. A1

LENGTH: 965 words

HEADLINE: FISHING AT INLET CALLED WORST IN MANY YEARS

BYLINE: Debi Pelletier of the News staff

BODY:

SAILFISH POINT - A snook leaps into the air, its silvery body lit by thereddish glow of the rising sun."Let it run! Let it run!" urges MarciaFoosaner,a lifelong fisher. "Now, pull your rod up! Reel it in!"

It's 6:30 a.m. and the first fish of the morning has been hooked in the St. Lucie Inlet. Foosaner is excited. It's taken more than an hour to get this strike. Her inexperienced companion is trying to land it.

The snook is about 6 pounds, Foosaner estimates. It looks like there's more mouth than fish on the line.

"It looks clean," Foosaner says as it's reeled up onto the beach. "It looks good."

She doesn't get the chance to do a closer inspection. A wave comes in, the snook leaps up and it shakes off the hook. It's gone in a splash.

"I always catch fish here," she had promised during the 40-minute trek to the inlet from Bathtub Reef park Thursday. She was sounding less sure, however, after an hour of futile casting.

Around the point, another fisherman is at the water's edge. Unlike Foosaner with her bare feet, he's wearing rubber boots. She says she sees him out there all the time.

"Are you catching anything?" she hollers out at the man.

"Got a jack," he responds. "It's better than it's been in a week."

Foosaner, 49, has been fishing in Florida "since I was old enough to hold a reel," she says. Born in Miami, she remembers going out with her father in Biscayne Bay and in the Snake Creek canal, "before all the development killed it off."

Fishing is her life, she says, so much a part of her that what she's been seeing in the St. Lucie River and Indian River Lagoon "is like a knife in my back." It makes her eyes water talking about it.

She's considered an expert fisher, although she says the fish probably outsmart her "more than I outsmart them." Walking along the beach, she reads the swirls and eddies, distinguishing which are caused by fish moving below.

"Some people say I don't fish - I stalk my prey," she says with a laugh.

It's an apt description.

Foosaner has given talks to the Back Country Fishing Association, she teaches others how to fish, and she's the reigning champion of the Women's World Invitational Tarpon Fly-Fishing Tournament in Islamorada. She plans to defend her title this year.

"I probably hike into this inlet 50 days a year," Foosaner says. She's been doing that for about seven years, and she's never seen things so bad.

The fishing's bad, and what fish there are look diseased. The grassbeds in the river are going. The river, she says, seems to be dying.

"I haven't launched my boat in three weeks because I can't stand to look at it like this," she says. "I'm almost afraid to pull anything out of the water because I'm afraid of what I might see."

The last snook she caught in early March was bleeding from its gills, she said. This week is the first time she's been out since.

Although pleased with the snook, Foosaner doesn't like the color of the water where the Indian River flows into the Atlantic Ocean. It looks mucky. There are foamy balls of brown guck floating on the surf and washed up on the beach. She grabs a handful, rubs it between her fingers and sniffs at it.

"It's greasy," she notes. "But it doesn't smell."

Her companion hooks another fish. This time it's a jack and it's reeled in. With a practiced ease, Foosaner grips it behind the gills and cleanly pulls out the hook. She examines the jack closely as it wriggles in her fingers.

This fish is clean, too. There are no lesions or spots. She looks in its mouth and gets splashed in the face, causing her to grimace and shake her head. "I didn't use to worry about this before," she says, wiping her mouth with her arm.

She carefully returns the fish to the water. She hates to kill anything "that's going to give me such a good time," she says.

It's 7:30 a.m. and people are showing up on the beach. Several fishing boats head out to open water. Two small ones stick around to try their luck in the inlet but quickly move on. Several fishermen wave to Foosaner.

Horseshoe crabs are everywhere this morning, flipped over onto their barnacle encrusted backs. Foosaner thinks they might be trying to escape the freshness of the water. Ann Forstchen, a biologist at the Marine Fisheries Institute agrees that's possible. Forstchen also suggests the mucky foam could be caused by the stirring up of the sediment.

Bird carcasses litter the beach. Three of them are pelicans, one is a loon.

"Oh, there's my poor little loon," Foosaner says, dismay in her voice. "I found him here yesterday. He was literally dragging himself down to the >water by his beak."

One of the pelicans died very recently. Like the other two, it's an adult bird, its yellow head feathers poking through the sand. It's hard to tell whether they look sick or merely scrawny. No one wants to touch them.

Necropsies have been done on four pelicans so far, according to Marilyn Spalding, a pathologist at the University of Florida college of veterinary medicine in Gainesville. She says she expects to be doing more. Die-offs >are not uncommon this time of year, she points out, acknowledging that "there seems to be more this year than usual."

So far, however, there's nothing to link the birds' deaths with Cryptoperidiniopsis, the toxic microalgae in the St. Lucie Estuary that's thought to be responsible for the epidemic of sick fish.

Some scientists point out similar problems with marine and bird life have occurred in the past and the populations have recovered. But that's not good enough for Foosaner.

"Somebody has got to do something to help this," she says, looking out across the inlet. "If (only) somebody would do something, just to get it started."

Story Filed By The Stuart News,Stuart,Florida

GRAPHIC: (color) photo by Deborah Silver: Lifelong angler Marcia Foosaner, 49, of Palm City, heads out in her boat Sunday from the Jensen Beach Causeway >for a trip on the Indian River Lagoon. Foosaner said she's never seen area waters as damaged as they are now.

(color) photo by Ian Solender: A blue-claw crab remains in a trap after >being pulled from the Manatee Pocket last week. The crab, which is normally blue, shows a red discoloration some think might be linked to the incidents of sick fish in the region.

(color) photo by Ian Solender: A Crevalle Jack fish caught in the Indian River Lagoon last week bears several lesions.

(B/W) news graphic: Reports of diseased fish: This map represents the locations of mullet with lesions reported to the Florida Department of Environmental Protection fish-kill hotline ((800)636-0511) by anglers from >March 2 - April 2

LOAD-DATE: April 7, 1998