After two weeks of jigging the South Biscayne Bay area and scoring on small bones, ladyfish, mackeral, bluefish, and then, pompano, I was ready for something else. And this time of year, that generally means tarpon. Although the passage of another whopper cold front on Monday and Tuesday was not tarpon-friendly, the change of species itself made the endeavor worthwhile.
I was underway in the ICW by the time the light blue plume of dawn was coloring the base of the eastern sky. On my way to the first destination, I stopped my skiff around 50 feet from the lume of a bridge fender light and cut my engine. I made a quick probe cast with a 1/2 ounce bucktail into the lit water. I let the lure sink for 4 seconds as my recorder showed a 20-foot depth- and besides, I was sure the water along the mud and gravel bottom was warmer than the surface film.
On the second upward sweep of my plug rod, my rod doubled over into a serious downward arc. I struck the fish twice, then fast-stroked the fish (or tried to) away from the bridge fender. I succeeded getting the fish away after 30 seconds and thought I had a big snook, but then, my rod tip started throbbing up and down. Although I was slightly disappointed, I knew this was going to be a big jack for Biscayne Bay. Five minutes later, I was releasing a terrific 10-pounder.
My next cast produced the same result, so I decided to anchor in such a way that would favor the wind and tidal current keeping my skiff in the best position for target casting. I had strikes and hookups on almost very cast and the action lasted over 4 hours. While I stopped counting the number of jacks released, I noted that most of the jacks went a respectable 4 pounds, with many reaching 7 and 8 pounds, and a few fish, ten pounds.
These hyperboloid experiences are not uncommon for light tacklers, yet fly fishermen sometimes raise their eyebrows at these results. The reason for this is that fly tackle has very limited utility in many instances such as this one. The depth of the water and wind speed would mean dredging a fly after backcasts into a loop-befouling wind- all this in the midst of the bow turned into a spaghetti carpet of stripped-in fly line. I'm glad that I see fly tackle as a tool to use when conditions dictate instead of a fashionable mandate!
And, by the way, I never got to the tarpon area: I simply didn't care to!
Jan
Jan Maizler
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