In the mid-1980s, Texas Parks and Wildlife Department (TPWD) undertook one of its boldest stocking experiments. Between 1984 and 1987, officials released thousands of orangemouth corvina (Cynoscion xanthulus) into Calaveras and Braunig Lakes—two San Antonio power plant cooling reservoirs. The intent was to create a new, exotic sport fishery alongside the already-thriving red drum stockings. These fish are a speckled trout look alike but they get much larger.
The corvina took hold quickly. Sleek, silver predators with oversized mouths, they found the warm, bait-rich waters ideal. Anglers who fished at night near the spillways began to notice fierce strikes and powerful runs from a fish that, at the time, few Texans had ever seen before.
A Family Memory from the Early Days
For David Callaway’s family, the corvina era is remembered vividly.
“This is my father, Kelly Callaway, with a corvina, in the mid to early ’80s. We caught several in front of the spillway at night. This one was 4 inches longer than the inside of a standard 48-quart ice chest. The picture is deceiving—this was a massive fish. And here’s the connection: it was caught where his grandmother once owned dry land that was later taken by eminent domain to create the lake.”
That fish, and others like it, symbolized not just a unique angling opportunity but also a personal tie between family history and the newly created lake.
The Next Generation at Calaveras
By the early 1990s, Sean Hoffman who now directs communication at the Texas Wildlife Association enjoyed this unique fishery.
“Judging from the photos, I caught mine in the early ’90s at Calaveras Lake, one of San Antonio’s two powerplant cooling reservoirs. Back then we’d night fish from the bank, but only after cast-netting bluegill and shad. We’d rig them Carolina-style, wade out to waist- or chest-deep water, and cast as far as our Ambassadeurs would allow. The rods sat in holders on the bank, and if we were lucky, one would double over—but more times than not, they didn’t.”
Redfish were the main target in those years, but the corvina left their mark.
“This particular corvina hit a 4–5 inch Rio Grande cichlid I’d pulled from the cast net. I wasn’t expecting it. But that was the magic of those lakes—you never knew if the strike would be a red, a hybrid striper, or one of these silvery ghosts.”
The Rise of the Trout Hybrids
Corvina were stocked again in 1986 and 1987, but TPWD quickly realized their survival was tied to water temperature and prey dynamics. Soon after, a hybrid program was introduced, crossing orangemouth corvina with speckled trout. The most famous catch came in 1992, when Harold Sinclair landed a 20.8-pound hybrid that remains a state record.
Though never as widespread as redfish, the corvina and their hybrids gave local anglers a brief but unforgettable fishery—one that stood out for its novelty and the sheer size of the fish.
Why They Disappeared
By the late 1990s, the corvina program faded. They were difficult to maintain in the long term, competing with the already successful redfish stockings. Eventually, no more corvina were stocked, and today their presence in Texas waters is only a memory.
But for families like the Callaways, those years produced stories that live on. To them, the corvina weren’t just another “experimental” fish—they were a living link between generations, a tie to land reshaped by water, and a reminder of Texas’ willingness to try bold ideas in fisheries management.
Early in my career I wrote an article entitled “Has the Age of the Super Trout Arrived?” pondering at the time new genetic research and the idea of doing to specks what TPWD was doing with Florida largemouth bass.
I didn’t realize it had already happened and faded away into the memories of those who caught these fish that no longer exist in Texas waters.
Chester Moore
