After 20 years, killer, invasive snakehead fish haven’t devoured the competition

Most mornings, weather permitting, fisherman Mike Sielicki can be found on the water in Fredericksburg, Virginia, about an hour’s drive from Washington, trying to catch a species of fish that was once considered a dangerous threat to surrounding aquatic wildlife.

“To me, it’s the best fish ever seen in the United States,” Sielicki says. “I hope this eventually makes its way into every body of water for everyone to enjoy.”

Sielicki has been fishing for northern snakeheads for 20 years, since they first appeared in Potomac Creek, a shallow creek that flows into the Potomac River, a major waterway in the Washington area. Through his business, Apex Predators Potomac Creek, he takes paying customers out on his boat to fish for this invasive predator, native to Asia.

“I have quite a few people who come from out of state, from the United States, who come fishing with me,” he says on a calm August morning as the snakeheads reveal themselves until now elusive. “The water here is very shallow, gets very grassy, ​​and it’s their ideal habitat.”

Snakeheads first appeared in the Washington area in 2002. Almost immediately, local wildlife officials sounded the alarm. Scientists feared that the snakeheads could decimate populations of predatory fish native to this region, including the prized largemouth bass.

“The Potomac River is a renowned destination nationwide for bass tournaments and sport bass fishing. It’s huge,” says John Odenkirk, a fisheries biologist with the Virginia Department of Wildlife Resources. “And so, that was the concern, that this (snakehead) fish was going to destroy that, because they were kind of on the same level at the top of the food chain.”

The snakeheads, which can grow to more than 83 centimeters long, have sharp teeth and can breathe air, meaning they can survive out of water for several days, provided their skin remains humid.

Snakeheads also spawn twice a year, while fish of a similar level only spawn once a year. Authorities feared these unique qualities might give snakeheads an advantage over top-level native predators.

“So on paper it’s like, ‘Wow, they have a competitive advantage here.’ » … What fueled the fear was that the abundance of snakeheads would become so high that it would simply overwhelm the system. That never happened,” Odenkirk says. “They never got to the point where they could threaten the stature of the bar, because there weren’t enough of them.”

Odenkirk says snakeheads don’t dominate their environment in part because predators, including birds and other large fish, have found them. And he says the snakehead’s natural prey, including smaller fish, have instinctively adapted to its presence.

Populations of fish that snakeheads feed on have not declined, suggesting that snakeheads are not having a negative impact on the environment, Odenkirk adds.

The fish is also popular with anglers, which has also helped control the snakehead population. Their white flesh, firm and sweet, makes them a sought-after delicacy.

“Like a swimming chicken,” Sielicki says. “It’s the toughest piece of meat you’ll ever get.”

Despite this removal, in the United States the snakehead population became more abundant in the Potomac River and its tributaries, in the Washington area, as well as in the southern state of Arkansas, where the fish was farmed for food until 2002, when federal authorities banned the practice.

Even though snakeheads have not had a noticeable negative impact on the ecosystem, wildlife officials are not ready to give the invasive species the green light.

“If they get into a different place, maybe where we have a threatened or endangered fish, where the diversity of the fish community is not as great, a situation like that could have undesirable impacts,” says Odenkirk. “So there’s still that hesitation to embrace fish across the board.”

Years ago, concerned wildlife officials advised people to kill snakeheads if they caught them. But a recent state survey showed that about 40 percent of people who catch the prized fish in Virginia now choose to release them into the wild.

But not Sielicki, who is looking forward to harvesting his catch, which he does this morning after an hour’s lull, when the determined fisherman finally hooks a 63cm snakehead.

“Backup! We’re getting ready to put it in the boat,” he says. “Let’s see if we can get another one.”