Nothing on the water looks normal at 2 am. Land masses that provide depth perception in daylight warp into ominous light-flecked shapes. Reflective channel markers pop up unexpectedly in front of the boat moving too fast through black water.
But tarpon feed at night and people sleep.
The dates are picked, the strategies are being worked out; it’s happening again.
Night Ops 1: Drifting live crabs,big water, big-fish.
Night Ops 2: Casting flies, light pools, little fish. (Never thought about the light babies until a note from Flies and Fins regular Marshall Demott. Now we know.)
Then the tide dies and it’s back to the ramp. The guides are all there mainlining coffee in the dark while they wait for their clients to show.
5am Automatic: We can’t sleep yet. We’ve got to get out again and run the inlet to the beach by sunrise, when everything resumes its rightful shape and a big tarpon might just appear in front of our bloodshot eyes.
The world at the moment is at the frayed ends of sanity, but those tarpon will be there in due time. Hope lives.
Most excellent prose!
Hope does live. I wish you luck!
My boyfriend has always told me that night fishing is the best as this is when most fish feed. Good luck to you and I have enjoyed reading this post.
fine writing there Pete.
I especially like this…”The world at the moment is at the frayed ends of sanity, but those tarpon will be there in due time. Hope lives.”
Trip’s not until June but just got the dates set and was amped about it. That’s where the hope comes in.
I borrowed the phrase “frayed ends of sanity” from a song, so I can’t take credit for that part of it.
MD, we need to hear more of your trail exploits from down there on FF. Especially in a week where we’re all digging out.
that is one badass photo. good luck Pete.
Just be careful with those double hauls in the dark .ouch!!!!!
Had worse happen in daylight with a flubbed cast and a full hit from 26 feet of Rio T-14 in the back. Felt like a sledge hammer.