Rodman Reservoir is being drawn down this winter as it is every few years. (Photo: Florida State Parks)
November 13, 2025
By Joe Balog
When I was a young boy, I often had trouble sleeping. Looking back, it seems I was uncommonly influenced by my dreams. After tossing around in bed for a few hours, I’d pester my mom for some type of resolution.
"Try to think good thoughts,” she’d say. “Concentrate on something you love.”
It was always fishing. Early on, my father had taken me to Lake Michigan on a salmon fishing trip and that filled the gaps. Then I went bass fishing in Florida and never thought about salmon again.
Our first trip was to the Ocklawaha river and Rodman Reservoir. To this day, when I have trouble sleeping, or try to escape a hectic workday through a short daydream, I envision the same scene I did as a child.
Advertisement
Slighty caught in the current, the boat drifts downstream past endless rows of majestic cypress. A big bass could be anywhere as I cast to the downstream side of a massive stump. Sometimes, in my dream, the lure is a Rapala. More often it’s a plastic worm, just like generations of big bass anglers who came before me. I’m alone and the world is quiet, except for light chirps of tree frogs and sounds of running water.
I never catch a fish in my dream. As a boy, I’d be asleep by now and, as a busy adult, there’s more to do. I’ve accomplished what I needed.
Lately, I’m leaning more on that dream than usual. My role at Mighty River Recovery – our local nonprofit working to save the St. Johns River – has turned from steady to chaotic. Days go by without hooking up the boat or working on gear. None pass, though, without the dream.
Advertisement
Rodman is being drawn down this winter, part of a routine program to eliminate excessive vegetation and renew the resource. Managing water is the best way to revitalize a fishery. Florida’s historic past, before million-dollar homes and man’s insistence on regulating nature, allowed big swings on most lakes. Rejuvenation was a regular occurrence.
Sadly, most lakes in today’s Florida have no chance of living up to their potential thanks to stagnant water levels and archaic management. Rodman, however, remains a true reservoir and one not affected by shoreline development. The primary interest and investment in the lake comes from anglers. For that reason, a drawdown occurs every 4 to 5 years. It’s all the rage around here.
At full pool, Rodman is a maze of stumps, submerged trees, river channel drops and vegetation. Bass spread out and can be difficult to locate. During the drawdown, however, their hiding spots are reduced, automatically putting lures in the strike zone.
Fishermen will travel from across the country to fish the Rodman drawdown. Guides are booked years in advance.
If you’ve kept up with Rodman Reservoir in recent times, you’ve likely heard of the movement to drain it. Rodman, you see, is the result of a canceled project: the Cross-Florida Barge Canal that was to connect the Atlantic Ocean with the Gulf. What now seems absurd was just another day in the life of Florida, the nation’s leader in environmental boondoggles.
Thankfully, the project ended in the early 1970s. Remaining is a large reservoir that’s never escaped the eye of criticism or misinformation.
Early on, praise abounded for Rodman, as record catches of monster bass brought tourism to a part of Florida that could use it. The reservoir single-handedly hosted a multi-million dollar fishing industry. Today, while less robust, Rodman still creates more “fishing business” than any freshwater lake in north Florida. During the drawdown, it may see the most in the state.
Still, the organized effort to remove the reservoir has gathered more steam than ever. Proponents of the plan cite environmental benefits, most notably an increased flow to the St. Johns River, possibly helping to ward off continued declines there. Rodman’s dam is an impediment to fish and wildlife, too, as all dams are. Most often, removal of these structures greatly aides those species restricted to the waters below.
Our group is routinely asked for our opinion on the Rodman Dam. For the most part, we don’t offer an official statement. Despite being the waterway of my dreams, Rodman remains a scientific void.
There are vast sources of data on what improvements removing the dam might offer. Millions of dollars have been spent studying the subject. Yet, despite frequent review of the materials, I rarely see both sides of the topic openly addressed.
For example, Rodman Reservoir is home to large populations of bald eagles and American alligators, both of which depend on the open waters of the reservoir. Restored riverine habitat will not support anything near their current numbers. Remember, both were on the endangered species list not long ago and still receive federal protections. Strangely, I hear little mention of this.
These are just two quick examples. Perhaps the greatest, however, needing further investigation is the impact of plant loss. As a reservoir, Rodman is host to thousands of acres of aquatic plants. All of these are involved in important nutrient uptake. While managers kick and scream in attempts to control these plants, their function as environmental purifiers remains.
To my knowledge, an impartial study on the environmental impacts of these plants has never been done.
I won’t touch on the economic impacts that the removal of Rodman will have, as that’s subject to future trends, spends and opportunities. It’s speculation at best.
But all around Rodman, both in my dreams and in reality, lie important parts of Florida that might be better left alone.
Neither I, nor our little army of St. Johns River warriors, will decide Rodman’s fate. Sadly, that will be left up to politics. Make no mistake, my position in environmental Florida’s has made it clear that politics plays a superior role to science.
I just hope everyone’s done their homework.
Joe Balog is the Executive Director of Mighty River Recovery, a nonprofit organization working to restore Florida’s St. Johns River. A former national tournament angler, product designer, seminar speaker and guide, Balog has worn just about every hat available to a professional angler. Today, he enjoys rehashing his experiences and adding veteran insight through his weekly Bass Wars column.