They should have called it Demon's Landing

Got out before first light this morning to try out a spot where I had sighted a few snook swimming around. It wasn't quite light out yet, but there was a bright moon and some dock lights to cast around.

I started casting out my She Dog topwater lure, but as enticing as it looked to me, the fish weren't biting. Oh, and the fish were there. I saw three snook in the 20" range cruse by the dock, and three big jacks working around the dock too. I knew in my heart it was only a matter of time until I hooked up with something.

I walked back to the car and switched out the She Dog for a 1/4oz Yo-zuri (green top/gold sides). I was a little hesitant to put it on since it was the hero of this day. Also, since the lure technically belonged to my dad, I was afraid of losing it. But, seeing the most productive lure in my arsenal just sitting there, I tied it on anyway.

I tossed out a couple of casts, but nothing took it. On the third cast, I dropped the lure right in a little school of glass minnows, and just as the lure hit the water, I got a big hit that immediately went slack. I reeled in the line and there was nothing attached.

While I walked back to my car for a new lure, I snapped this photo.

My lure options were difficult again. I had a larger Yo-zuri that had yet to catch me anything, and one of my most productive lures, a black top/silver sides Yo-zuri from this day. Though the prospect of losing another heroic Yo-zuri was not high on my to-do list, I knew the lure could catch fish, so I tied it on.

I was on my fifth or sixth cast when I tossed the Yo-zuri into a shallower spot by the dock light. I had a quick hit, and I pulled up to set the hook. What happened next shot adrenaline through my body as the fish pulled my lure in a 50 yard bee-line in the opposite direction.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZzzzz.

I finally stopped his run by tightening down the drag and then started the process of pulling what felt like a log back through the water. Pull, reel. Pull, reel. Pull, reel.

As the fish got closer, I looked for a spot lower to the water where I could land the fish. I knew the fish was far too heavy to hoist out of the water using just my rod. As I turned back, I couldn't find my line in the water. By the time I located it, I realized the fish had started swimming toward me and toward a dock off to my left. I reeled back in as fast as I could and started pulling against the fish, but it saw its salvation and took it.

As my line wrapped around the dock piling, I knew it was over. If I was thinking straight, I would have released the bail and waited for the fish to swim out. Instead, I tried to horse him off the piling, and ping! the line snapped.

I cussed my heart out.

When I turned around, there was a uniformed security guard there. "Sorry, bud, but you can't fish here."

%$#*&#

Folornly, I packed up my gear and drove over to the Vinoy basin. I caught a ladyfish on a Gulp mullet, which at least got the skunk off, but my heart just wasn't in it. As you can see in the photo, I didn't even bother taking the photo in focus.

Losing that fish is tough to stomach. Losing the fishing spot is even worse.