Florida seeks fountain of youth for polluted lake : Officials hope to turn back years of neglect and restore Lake Apopka’s game fish and plants.

It’s a cool, sunny morning when Jim Conner revs up the outboard on the Boston Whaler and heads out for a run around what was once the second-largest lake in Florida. “You’ll be surprised,” he says. “And you’ll think, ‘What a shame we’ve allowed this to happen.’ ”

Along the lake’s north shore, Conner notes new growth in recently planted beds of bullrush and eelgrass. Skimming past the earthen dike on the east, he points out fields of carrots and celery sprouting from the rich black soil, called muck. And then Conner shoots across the center of the lake and kills the engine in front of the skeletal remains of a boat dock, crumbling from neglect.

Here, he says, is his favorite spot to reflect on the past, and gain hope for the future. “There used to be 25 fish camps like this on the lake,” said Conner, who works for the St. Johns River Water Management District. He points up the sloping bank to a large house that appears empty. “But now they’re gone, like everything else.”

As the boat rocks in the shadows of the rotted pilings, a ghostly stillness seems to hang over the water. There is not another person or boat in sight.

This is Lake Apopka, which until the 1940s was junior in size only to Lake Okeechobee among Florida’s many lakes, and second to none in its reputation as the home of trophy largemouth bass. But after World War II, marshes flanking the lake were drained for cropland. And as the size of the lake shrank, it became, in effect, a retention pond for farmers.

After drawing water for irrigation, vegetable growers pumped that same water--now laden with phosphorus and other nutrients--back into the lake. Those nutrients fed an explosion of algae, which in turn set off a chain reaction of ecological havoc. The game fish died off, as did the natural vegetation. Adding to the lake’s woes was a 1980 chemical spill that decimated the area’s alligator population by causing reproductive system mutations.

Now Lake Apopka is known as Florida’s most polluted body of water, the state’s fourth-largest lake, and perhaps the best testament in the United States to the consequences of environmental abuse. The lake 15 miles northwest of Orlando is still huge--50 square miles--and has an even larger potential as a recreational site for a booming metropolitan area. But it is virtually deserted. The fish camps are abandoned, the bass are gone and the water is pea-soup green.

“It’s green as all get-out,” said Conner, 45. “And that alone keeps people off the lake.”

After decades of neglect, the state began a costly effort to restore Lake Apopka. Over the past eight years, Florida has spent about $28 million to buy farmland, re-create marshes and pay for studies on how to clean up the water.

In 1990, the Water Management District opened the gates on a gravity-powered flow-way system in which the lake is cleansed as water is diverted through a 1,850-acre marsh where natural grasses filter out phosphorus and nitrogen. When the marsh system is eventually expanded to 5,000 acres, Conner says, the total volume of the lake can be filtered two times a year, and result in the removal of 30 metric tons of phosphorus.

The state also is subsidizing commercial harvesting of gizzard shad, the rough fish that began to overrun the lake as the bass declined. And scientists have planted acres of native plants--including bullrush, eelgrass and spatterdock--in an attempt to stabilize a 4-foot-thick layer of sediment that covers the lake bottom and provide a habitat for fish and other wildlife.

There are some promising signs. Geoff Ball, who runs a bait-and-tackle shop in nearby Clermont, said: “Speckled perch have made a phenomenal comeback. There are people catching limits--50 a day--where a year ago there wasn’t much recreational fishing at all.”

Developers are putting up expensive hillside homes with views of the lake, although Winter Garden real estate broker John Terrell says that no one yet wants to build right on the water. “Acre lakeside lots sell now from $70,000 to $90,000,” Terrell said. “That would triple if the lake were cleaned up.”

In fact, the abuse of Lake Apopka continues. Pollutants from farm fields continue to pour into the lake much faster than the marsh flow-way or shad harvesting can take them out.

“During the summer, 30 million gallons of farm discharge a day will be pumped into the lake,” said Jack Amon, president of a local environmental group. “I know there is some anecdotal evidence of some fishing here and there. But, hey, we’re dealing with 50 years of this pollution. And until we can stop the discharges, it’s not time to start celebrating.”

Last month, the threat of tougher regulations on discharges prompted a coalition of 14 area growers to offer to quit farming if the state would buy them out. Asking price for 15,000 acres of muck land: $95 million.

State Rep. Everett Kelly calls the offer to sell “the biggest breakthrough we’ve ever had for the lake.” Kelly admits that coming up with the money will be difficult, and the end of farming here will mean the loss of about 500 jobs. Still, he says that “bringing the lake back to where you have fishing, boating and resurgent land values far outweighs the economic impact of farming.”