After moving back to Montana in February, and taking my sweet time to dodge ice storms on the way, I finally made it out to chase some trout in March. Got 5, this was the smallest of the day.
This weekend, had to fly to Florida for a wedding. Given the long distance, we took a couple extra days. And given the unscheduled mornings, I decided to fish the local beach. Some leader material, jigheads, paddle tails, and gulp shrimp brought in some jacks, trout, and lady fish.
Day two, I got some frozen shrimp and managed some snapper, sheepshead, more jacks and ladyfish, plus a bunch of those devil catfish. Plus a fun little bonnethead shark. Carolina rig to a #1 mutu circle. Would have had enough for dinner if I’d been keeping fish.

Day three- starting to figure out that dawn is the time to be down there. So back to it. More jacks, snapper, and ladyfish until I run out of bait. Then it’s popping gulp shrimp off the bottom.
This rod was all of $30, and now the reel handle won’t fully tighten, the anti reverse quit working, but the drag is still solid. So I pop the shrimp in the rocks, hit one solid and lose my grip on the handle. It comes back around on my knuckles- great. But when I start to reel down to shake the line loose, the line starts shaking without me. To my utter disbelief, a 20” snook jumps to tell me I need to buckle down. To prove this point, he immediately jumps again and sends the 1/2oz jig with a 4/0 hook directly at my forehead. Thanks to some residual reflexes from a formerly athletic life, at least injury wasn’t added to insult.
No fish, but snook can chafe through bite leader pretty fast, so I retie. Another hour, only a couple ladyfish out in the sand, and I’m back to those rocks. I want revenge on that snook. Every half dozen casts, I seem to be sticking in the rocks. Get it free, check for frays, retie if necessary. So when I pop the shrimp and the drag slips, I don’t think anything of it. But then the rod dips, and the line goes sideways. This is something big. Bigger than what I think this reel was designed for, especially since I put 15lb braid on it.
Then whatever this is realized it’s hooked and makes a big run. Then another one. I get it close, and it pops to the surface to show white sides and a single white stripe- snook. Big snook.
A few more runs, a couple scary jumps, questioning the tackle, maybe saying a prayer, and I finally land it. Right at the upper end of the slot, ~33”, maybe somewhere around 10lbs. Released, much to the disbelief of the other fisherman.
I call it quits and go get a shower, lunch, and a beer. I think I’d like to go back.