My friend Doni and I spent 4 days chasing tarpon in Apalachicola. I was on the quest to finally end my jinx of not catching a big one on fly. We had a couple days of rough weather to start. We had a few shots, and I had one small one eat by the boat on the first day, but did not hook him. It was very slow overall.

On the third day, we woke to a bright sun and no wind. Our guide, Christian Yergens, took us to find laid up fish not five minutes into the bay from the ramp in Apalach. It didn't take long before we spotted a few laying motionless right near the surface. Doni was up first and had several good chances. These fish were surprisingly docile, but they would not eat unless the fly was just in the right zone and moving exactly as they wanted it, usually long, slow, smooth strips.

I got on the bow after a while and got a good shot at a fish only about 30 feet away. I made a good cast and the fish immediately started tracking the fly, but it's all in very slow motion. She sank down almost out of sight and I thought it was all off, but Christian encouraged me to keep stripping the fly. Then she just slowly rose up and sucked it in, and I felt that amazing tightness suddenly in the fly line that I had been waiting for.

I gave her several good jabs and she took off, while I cleared the line. While this can be a desperate moment where a lot can go wrong, it seemed very natural and easy for me. In my mind I'd done this a million times even though in real life I had only hooked (and briefly) a very few tarpon. Once I got her cleanly on the reel, I set the hook a couple more times while she started her run.

Not 50 feet from the boat she launched in a big, showy, almost slow motion leap, wallowing from side to side before crashing back down into the water. I even remembered to bow so she didn't get a chance to snap her head directly against a tight line. It was an amazing scene and I just hollered with excitement when she did it. Then she was off to the races again, leaping clear again about 75 yards away.

Christian got the trolling motor going so we could regain some line. Once we got well back onto the fly line, I could begin to really pressure the fish. My new Orvis Helios 11wt did great, bent deeply into the cork as I put as much pressure on the fish as I dared. After about 20 minutes, we had the fish by the boat and caught by tarpon guide standards (touching the leader), but we were still doing the final dance to truly land the fish. That didn't happen as my Albright knot between the fly line and leader failed at the last moment. At the time, it didn't matter one bit as it was a great fight and great fish, and I was ecstatic with the whole experience. Later, I was of course disappointed that one of my knots failed after being so careful tying them all. But it just shows how critical every little thing is in catching tarpon, and how much stress is placed on each part.

Christian and I each estimated her weight at 80-90 pounds, and she was certainly no less than that. If we got our hands on her face we could have better measured her, but it doesn't matter a bit.

That afternoon I hooked another fish. She looked a bit smaller, maybe 70-80 pounds, but was a weird one in many ways. We saw her very near the boat and I made a very quick flip in her direction and she ate immediately. I don't remember her jumping at all, but Christian said she did twice as I was clearing a lot of line. But then after a very short run she simply dove under the boat and fought like a submarine or grouper. It was just a straight up and down battle of 3 feet in then 3 feet out. After about 15 minutes of this "fun", she dove again under the boat and broke off. While any tarpon is a good one, I'm really glad this one wasn't the only one I hooked as it was really nothing like the first spectacular fish.

We got blown out by a slight cool front on the 4th day which put all the fish down, but we had our one great day and that's more than you can hope for on any tarpon trip.