The day began chilly, featuring northwest winds of 15 mph- and did the tarpon ever feel it! Bushwacked by the half-alive ghost of a front from Canada, the silver kings rolled less and struck less. I jumped off one fish of fifty pounds and had another forty-pounder do a see-saw/channel drop cutoff of my double line just before the leader touched the tip-top of my rod. Such is fishing!
Disappointed but not dejected, I ran to the grassflats and consoled myself by catching and releasing a few small seatrout. By midday, the cumulus clouds were building up with the radiant heat of Indian Summer in South Florida, giving fall's early morning strut a real slapdown!
The whole outing would have been far more fertile had the mullet run reached Biscayne Bay. It has not, but hopes run high.
Jan
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