Crazy video of the Gulf's massive fish migration

Each fall, the Alabama Gulf Coast is transformed into a sea-going superhighway as millions upon millions of fish fin their way to points south for the winter.

While people are well-versed in the similarly timed bird migration gearing up right now, this aquatic migration is almost unknown. That's not surprising, given that hundreds of species of spectacularly colorful birds show up around our feeders and in our forests every October. You can't miss the noisy birds. Not so with the fish, which slip silently and invisibly past our shores.

But if you know where to look, and how to look, this annual fish migration involves at least as many animals, and probably many more animals, than the bird migration.

As with the birds, the fish hit the road in late September and early October. Their run is predictable, and carefully timed. The goal is to make it the warmer climes of the Caribbean and Central American coast before winter's chill turns the upper Gulf of Mexico into a 50-degree ice box.

The little fish, which are the most vulnerable to drastic temperature changes, are usually in the vanguard of the migration. This includes a number of filter-feeding fish, such as round scad (cigar fish), short-scale sardines, menhaden, Atlantic bumper, and anchovies (also known as rain minnows or glass minnows). These fish, all sporting silvery sides and bellies designed to help confuse predators and provide camouflage, travel in massive schools that can number hundreds of thousands of individuals.

For these fish, migration is a fraught journey, with danger in the form of toothy predators never more than a few feet away. Often times, when I'm snorkeling toward a big ball of bait being attacked by predators in the Gulf during the migration, I can keep myself headed in the right direction simply by following the trail of glittering scales in the water. If I'm swimming toward a big school of bait that's really getting thrashed by tuna or mackerel, there will be so many iridescent scales floating in the water it is almost like swimming through a snowstorm.

The predators, including cobia, wahoo, blue runners, bluefish, mackerel (kings and Spanish), tuna, tarpon, marlin, and swordfish, are described by scientists as "highly migratory species," thanks to migrations that stretch hundreds of miles. Anglers all along the migration route key in on the spring migration, when these fish are moving north, but for some reason, few anglers seem to know much about the fall migration.

These migrations are all about food and water temperature. They are as regular and predictable as bird migrations over land. To understand the Gulf's migrations, study a map.

All the migratory fish listed above winter in two places, the edge of the Caribbean, down around the Florida Keys, or the area around the Texas/Mexico border and points south. Think of those two groups as a western group and an eastern group for each species in the Gulf of Mexico.

As the water warms in the spring, the eastern group travels up from the Keys along the west coast of Florida, past Tampa Bay, then through the Big Bend region of Florida, along the Panhandle through to Alabama. Meanwhile, the fish in the western group travel up the Texas coast, all the way around to the bottom of Louisiana's boot. This is where the species mix and most of them spawn.

Think of the waters around Louisiana as a great big dating pool for fish, with the eastern and western groups spending the warm summer months gorging and fornicating together. Then, as water temperatures begin to cool in the fall, the two groups split apart, and work their way back around the coastline to their respective wintering grounds.

For the prey species, the spring journey coincides with a massive plankton bloom in the northern Gulf that peaks in August and September. That's when the sun beating down on the Gulf has warmed the waters to about 90 degrees, and all manner of plankton have grown so thick that the water at the surface can be difficult to see through while diving.

The fish start their journey back south from the area off of Louisiana and Mobile Bay in September, and peaks by the time October rolls around. For some species, such as tarpon, local anglers say the fish aren't really in an eating mood on the return journey. They move through the area quickly and are difficult to entice with rod and reel.

For other species, such as cobia and bonito, catching the fish is as easy as finding them. That's where structure comes in. The prey species in particular really key in on structure as they journey through the area. That could be in the form of a buoy floating in the water, or the half dozen ships typically anchored about 10 miles south of the mouth of Mobile Bay in an area known as the ship anchorage. Ships wait there, often for days or weeks, until a suitable cargo is ready for them to pick up in the port of Mobile.

Each ship out there becomes a thriving ecosystem all its own, with resident predators and massive schools of bait.

Local guide Capt. Richard Rutland of Cold Blooded Fishing has made fishing this annual fall migration a standard part of his annual calendar. I ventured out to the ship anchorage with Rutland and Butch Theirry on a calm day. Standing on the bow of the boat, I watched a school of a dozen cobia up to 60 pounds swim along the surface and dart around the boat chasing our lures. That day, we caught cobia, king mackerel, Spanish mackerel, and bonito up to 15 pounds. The action was fast and non-stop.

"That's pretty standard for this time of year. Those fish are moving, but they'll stop and gang up around the mouths of the bays, like Mobile Bay. They are keying on the bait moving along the coast, but also the bait that is heading offshore from the bays, things like menhaden," Rutland said.

Incidentally, live menhaden are his preferred bait for the cobia. He likes to hook them through the nose. He typically fishes them close to the bottom with a weight, but keeps one hooked and swimming in the live well with no weight to cast at cobia that pop up on the surface.

I always carry my fly rod, and Richard and I have managed to boat a lot of cobia that hit flies, including big saltwater popping bugs. Having four or five cobia chasing down a popping bug is a blast.

"You can watch the fishing reports and tell where the fish are," Rutland said. "In the spring, I can watch where people are catching the cobia as they make their way up the Florida coast. You can just about pick the day they are going to start showing up here based on when they get to the panhandle. Same thing happens in the fall, but you don't see near as many fishing reports."

The migration is still on. If you want to book a trip with Capt. Rutland, visit him at Cold Blooded Fishing.com.

Ben Raines specializes in investigations and natural wonders. You can follow him via Facebook, Twitter at BenHRaines, and on Instagram. You can reach him via email at braines@al.com.

You can watch Ben's most recent documentary, The Underwater Forest, here on Youtube.

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