It's no big secret that I love fishing. And it's no big secret that I prefer salt water to fresh water fishing. The reason is the variety and size of the fish. You never truly know the size of a fish until you see it. You have an idea based on it pulling the line, the bow of your rod and the drag screaming. You still never know. But the size of your fish is often determined by the size of your bait. The bigger the bait, the bigger the fish. That's a lesson I learned with my Brother in Fishing, Captain Jack.
We were out fishing in the gulf one gorgeous late May day. There was a bridge span that had been dumped years before in the gulf to make an artificial reef and we had never fished it. So we decided to venture out to it. We loaded up with cigar minnows and the plan was to tight line the cigar minnows around the span. Now cigar minnows are the length of... well cigars. Fairly big baits in their own right. We arrived and began hooking up the minnows and letting them do their thing.
After a few hours of fishing and catching only what we call trash fish, mostly trigger fish, I'd just about had enough. Apparently throughout my complaining, Jack had formulated a lesson for me. I had just brought up another trigger fish and Jack said, "Hand me that." I handed him the fish and watched him proceed to cut a huge piece out if the fish and hook it on what looked like a grappling hook. I shook my head and said incredulously, "What ARE you doing?" Jack looked at me through his Costas and said only this, "The bigger the bait, the bigger the fish." I laughed and watched as Jack settled onto the platform on the bow of the boat like a bear sitting in a box. He simply smiled up at me and said, "Good luck."
Around 45 minutes later, and several more trigger fish later for me, I heard the unthinkable. Jack's drag was screaming...no I mean really screaming! I stood up and watched mesmerized. He stood there holding a bowed over rod under one arm all the while smiling at me. I felt a shiver of dread creep into my bones. Time slowed. The Sun stopped in the sky. My breathing was shallow and weak. I was being schooled.
Thirty minutes later Jack stood there holding a red snapper that had to have been 50 pounds! The red shimmering scales burned my eyes. This fish was so big it looked as though Jonah was going to climb out of the cavernous mouth and wave at me. I could do nothing but stand there in awe. As Jack walked passed me to fill the cooler with the monster he said, "You ready?" All I could do was squeak out affirmation. The lines were brought back in, the anchor was pulled up and we motored back to the marina.
Upon arrival at the marina nothing was said for a long time. Everything was stowed and we walked from the pier to the parking lot where we firmed up our plans for the next day of fishing. On the drive back to my house I kept trying to recall the event in some kind of light other than mystical. I arrived home, opened my front door and sat in my recliner. Almost instantly my phone rang. I answered with a defeated hello. The voice on the other end replied with a hushed, "The bigger the bait, the bigger the fish." I heard a soft chuckle and then the line went dead.
- JD
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