Travel: Tarpon Sandwich or How Not To Catch A Tarpon In The Keys
I love a boat sandwich as much as the next guy....but not more than actually catching a Tarpon. I've learned from my own experiences and seeing other people's days on Instafish, that it's easy to determine if the fishing is good or not by shots of the beer they are drinking or the sandwiches they are eating. I took a lot of pictures of the sky, the water, my Father-In-Law and my buddy Alex eating a very delicious Ham n' Cheddar. When the wind is blowing 25 mph and not a single fish is eating a 2 inch piece of red, skinny leather with a silver hook hanging about an inch below it, my sandwich is the highlight. The other highlight is the fact I am fishing with 2 good dudes that have never caught a Tarpon (that baby poon in the ditch doesn't count Alex).
We're seeing fish, in the 300 to 400 count but they're being very tight-lipped, but it's just about being out here, right? Actually, it is....the fact that I dwell about 600 miles north in Charleston, just seeing the bottom is a great sight. To me, seeing these fish swim by with about 100 of their closest homies is something that will never get old. It's one of those things that hasn't changed since the beginning of their existence. I understand that things have changed as far as some of their habits and pressure on them, but still...they are so beautiful and majestic to see swimming by in no rush as they make their way to wherever the hell they are going. After 4 days of this observance, as the wind did finally lay down the last day, I was satisfied. Ok, I didn't jump one...nor did I get even a bite. But, I was full on what these fish do.
On the morning of the 5th day, I was packing my bag simultaneously gazing out to the dock 200 feet away. I looked out one more time, and the last glimmer of a week well spent broke the surface. I grabbed the display rod off the wall, with a tan marabou fly tied on from eons before. Nothing crazy or interesting but it had a hook. I ran my ass out there, stripping off line with every other stride. Casting with my last few steps, the fly landed in the area of the last roll. Seeing the pulsing water behind the landing spot and first strip, that fish was hooked and he let me know it. 2 eruptions from the salty water and he was free. Am I really content with just my boat sandwiches?