The Frustration of Loss: Giant Snook (pt.2)

I'm a fly fisherman driven towards goals. I set my sights on something and then work towards it until I achieve what I want to achieve, then I set my sights even higher.
I caught my first big snook on the fly sort of accidentally... I wasn't trying to get a certain size snook. So shortly after catching that big fish on New Years Day 2019, I became obsessed with repeating that result but on purpose this time. Less than an hour after missing the largest snook I'd ever had eat a fly on the opposite coast from where Noah and I had honed our snook abilities, I began to feel for the first time on this trip that I might get my chance at landing one. The conditions weren't going to prevent us from getting to the right areas and we'd found some big snook. I was ready to hammer down until I caught one.

In the Charlotte Harbor area the year prior Noah and I had realized that dead end creeks seemed to be prone to holding larger snook in shallow water. So, even though it was a different time of year and we were on a different coast, we gave special attention to dead ends and backwaters. In the morning of our second day mission on this part of the river we headed into a backwater that Kirk had mentioned to us as a likely tarpon spot. We didn't see any tarpon there but multiple large snook spooked as we made our way through it. It is hard not to spook these fish if you can't see them to make a precise cast, so in the early morning low light glare there wasn't much we could have done. But these were big fish and that had my attention. Again though, like the day before, we went a long time without any notable fish.

There's never any shortage of things to look at in Florida, whether it be people acting intriguingly in the populated areas, or marine mammals acting intriguingly in the backcountry. Seeing a manatee hoist much of its body out of the water to reach preferable vegetation up on the banks of the river was, to say the least, pretty cool. We actually saw likely the same manatee doing this in two different parts of the river two days apart. It was very cool too watch, though I'm still scared of the manatees I can't see... watch one react to a large bird landing on it or getting bumped by a trolling motor and you'll understand my concerns.

There were other things to be concerned about than bumping into and spooking an unsuspecting manatee. Periodically, there were massive eruptions in the river, disturbances that seemed to be made by some sort of large creature, and for a while I couldn't tell what they were. Then one happened right in front of me. I was shocked to see that the perpetrator was a rather small bullshark. That such a small shark could make such a huge commotion was pretty impressive, though I'm certain the bull sharks that made the largest blow ups were not just pups, but individuals much closer to adulthood. Being in the presence of these predators was humbling indeed.

As it had on the day before, the paddle back downriver proved more productive on our second day. For me, it yielded the first snook of notable quality, a mid 20's fish that did everything that makes snook wonderful. I really have fallen deeply in love with these fish and their habits.

Heading downriver further, I outpaced Noah. I hit the backwater pockets I wanted to hit then moved on to the next, not wasting time on the numerous mangrove banks I'd come to the conclusion held little but smaller fish. There's nothing wrong with catching those smaller fish but I was looking for something specific. Something which I found some time later in a wide open shallow backwater. I moved and missed a few average sized fish hanging on deadfalls before I saw the first large one, laid up, belly right on the mud, not moving a muscle. I spooked that fish with my cast. Not 50 yards away however I spotted two more sitting parallel to each other and practically touching fins. Competition is never a bad thing. I laid a cast right in front of them and both fish lunged as if they had spooked, but one turned and engulfed the fly with a hellacious 'pop'. I stripped but didn't connect and pulled the fly out of the kill zone. I quickly re-cast and as soon as the fly hit the water it got slammed. I strip set and the fish took off instantaneously at an astonishing rate of speed. I frantically tried to clear the line and get the fish on the reel, and did so... I think. It's all a bit of a blur. Whatever happened next it resulted in me standing there on my kayak whipping a rod that was no longer bent double under the pull of a 20 plus pound snook, swearing inappropriately loud. As it gradually occurred to me that I'd just blown excellent shots at huge snook on two consecutive days, I just felt worse... and I also felt like I needed to exact revenge. I tore off down river to the backwater we'd seen big snook in that morning. I only saw one and it spooked. I worked a dock line near the mouth of the backwater, and it produced three small snook. The first was really small, but the second was at least substantial enough to put up a fight.

The third fish I'm not convinced was a common snook at all. The fight, the body shape, and the overall appearance lead me to believe this is some other species, likely a fat snook. For the time being that's what I'm considering it to be based on scale counts, body shape, and fin ray counts.

Fat snook, Centropomus parallelus. Life list fish #161. Rank: species. 

Catching a potential new species felt good but I was still a man on a mission... a mission I was not going to accomplish this time. After a frantic half hour of trying to find something to take my frustration out on, I made it back to the boat launch even more frustrated than I'd been just after the big snook broke off. Sometimes, even when I'm catching fish and some really cool ones at that, fishing kind of sucks. It isn't relaxing. It isn't enjoyable. It hurts. 

Until next time,

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

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