Chapter 11: Cichlids
The Rio Grande cichlid (Herichthys cyanoguttatus), also known in the aquarium trade as the Texas cichlid, is the only cichlid species native to the United States. Ubiquitous in the clear, spring-fed streams of Central Texas (but absent from the Lampasas River), it is often presumed to be native to this part of the state; however, its native distribution is limited to the Rio Grande, Pecos, and (perhaps) Nueces River drainages as well as parts of northeastern Mexico.
In 1928, for reasons that have been lost to history, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service captured some “Rios” near Mission, Texas, and brought them to its National Fish Hatchery in San Marcos where they were propagated until 1941. The fish were distributed into area rivers as early as 1929, where springs provide thermal refugia during the cold months. Today they can be found as far east as Houston and, perhaps, New Orleans, though the New Orleans-area fish may turn out to be the closely related pearlscale or green Texas cichlid (H. carpintis).
From about November through March, it’s tough to find a Rio on most Central Texas streams. The San Marcos River, which presumably has the longest-established non-native population and also benefits from a huge volume of spring water in its upper reaches, seems to be the exception. But on Brushy Creek, Onion Creek, and the San Gabriel, Pedernales, and Colorado rivers, good luck finding one during the winter. I’ve always pictured them huddled around a campfire-like spring in a deep pool, sipping hot toddies and trading lies about their summer adventures.
Rios are strikingly colored fish, usually a dark gray, sometimes tan or olive, with a liberal sprinkling of cream or blue spots. Breeding males develop large nuchal humps on their heads and may appear, from above, to be bicolored, with their heads and the front parts of their bodies nearly white and the after halves dark gray or black.
As striking as their coloration is, Rios’ behavior is even more interesting. During the long (March–August) breeding season, pairs form monogamous bonds and clean a circular nest by pecking gravel and debris and depositing it outside the nest (sunfish, by contrast, create their nests by fanning a circular area with their fins). Both the males and females are “brood guarders,” meaning that after their (on average two thousand) eggs have hatched, they aggressively protect their young, which remain for a time in the vicinity of the nest and the parents.
They are curious fish, darting out to carefully inspect any new thing in their field of vision. They are known to stalk their prey (insect larvae, small fish, drifting terrestrial insects, even small frogs and snakes) and are most often antagonized into a strike.
Like most species of fish, Rios exhibit significant variability.
Small crawfish imitations like Bailes’ Hatchling Craw and nymphs, including the appropriately named Bennett’s Rio Getter, work well, and sometimes Rios can be enticed to take a dry fly. A Rio sight fished on a 2- or 3-weight rod is an experience to remember.
Blue tilapia (Oreochromis aureus) is the other cichlid species commonly found in Central Texas and is likely an aquaculture hybrid crossed with Nile tilapia (O. niloticus) or other species. Still spreading throughout the area through accidental (and in some cases probably intentional) releases, they are considered invasive.
Similar to the Rio Grande cichlid in body shape (both have long, trailing dorsal and anal fins), the blue tilapia is native to western Africa and is not closely related to the native Texas fish (while Rios are brood guarders, tilapia are “mouth brooders”). A rather drab, slate blue or gray fish with faint barring on the sides, blue tilapia males put on some color for the breeding season, when the heads of large fish turn a metallic blue and their fins may be edged in red or pink.
“Sometimes you’re taking them onetwothreefourfive and justlikethat you want to cry out to the rest of them: Hey clear out, can’t you see what’s happening?”
The bad news about tilapia is that the fish are swimming in our rivers. The good news is that the wild fish are terrific table fare, and you can keep every single one you catch guilt free. More good news for anglers: They are giants among panfish, growing to a maximum length of about 21 inches, and a lot of fun on a fly rod. Try a chironomid pattern in size 12 or smaller.
