Snookered

If we had a little more space, I might say we've got cabin fever.  After several days cooped up in our little boat, a cabin would seem spacious.  So even though it was raining today, I went fishing.

As usual, I was fishing for redfish.  Early on, I caught a nice trout.

Before I became a redfish snob, I thought snook were my favorite fish to catch.  I had a snook sticker on my old truck bumper.  I have a plastic snook on the wall in my den.  Redfish might have more brute strength, but redfish don't jump.  Snook are acrobatic and terrific fighters.  So today, when I hooked the largest snook I've ever had on the end of my line, I knew what it was after the first jump.  Actually, the fact that this snook only jumped high enough to show it's giant head was an indication that it was huge.  Small snooks jump clear out of the water, but as they get bigger, they can no longer clear the surface. 

Like most things, fishing is full of compromises.  Fishing line is one.  I use braided line.  It's smaller diameter than comparable test monofilament. However, braid shows up in the water, so I use a leader made of fluorocarbon.  Up NOrth, I use small flourocarbon--either 10 or 15 pound.  For redfish down here, I use 20 pound or sometimes 25 pound. The trade off is that you will catch more fish with a smaller diameter leader.  But smaller a diameter leader will wear through quicker if it rubs against a piling with barnacles. Or if it rubs against the gill plate of a huge snook.   That's why people who fish for large snook use heavy leader.  Maybe 50 pound fluorocarbon. 

So when I saw the size of the snook I had on my line today, I knew it would not end well.  The snook took off, and I was trying to hold my hand on the reel spool to slow it down.  I kept tightening the drag, but the line was zipping off my reel.  I was into the backing, and thinking I would get "spooled" but just about the time it reached the end of the line, the snook turned around, and swam towards my boat.  I frantically reeled in line to keep up.  When the snook got within about 10 feet of the dinghy, it took off again.  This time, it was shaking it's head, and rubbing my 20 pound fluorocarbon against it's razor sharp gill plates.  You can guess what happened next. 

When this all started, I turned on my video camera.  The video shows a bent rod, a lot of splashing, and an old man crying at the end.  I couldn't bear to watch it again so I didn't process it to post here.