Florida Sport Fishing

Fishy Story

Click... Click...

As a teenager growing up on the edge of the Panhandle, my only passion
was fishing. While most kids in the neighborhood dreamed of shiny new
bikes or sleek skateboards, my only desire was to land a monster shark.
I wanted to catch a man-eating beast that would make Jaws look like a
big fat sissy. For years all I could talk about was shark fishing. The
thought of landing such a giant absolutely consumed my mind.

In my early teens at the time, and not quite old enough for a boat I wanted to catch my shark from the beach. I would bring chum, and lots of it. For bait I would use raw meat that was dripping with blood to help provide a tempting long lasting scent. I would rig up my dads ancient 12/0 PENN with 100 lb. line and a strong enough hook and cable to pull a tow-truck. A bit naïve, I may have been a little over confident thinking all of this gear meant I was ready to fight and land the big one.

Spending most of my free time at the local docks, I overheard many old timers chanting fish tales of enormous sharks lurking the oceans edge. Over and over they said winter time was prime time to catch these huge creatures. Many, like bull sharks, spinner sharks, hammerheads, nurse sharks, and even awesome tiger sharks traveled close to the beaches in their search for food. The most vicious of them all, tiger sharks have markings like cheetahs and a mouth lined with teeth as sharp as razor barbed wire. These huge creatures are predators and scavengers; eating anything and everything in their paths. Catching one of these monsters would undoubtedly be a feat. Doing it off the beach could only be described as a dream-come-true.

Hanging out at the tackle shop after school one day I happen to overhear one of the local commercial fishermen complaining about a giant man-eating shark that was snacking on all his mackerel and bluefish. He seemed upset because this monster was evidently eating away all his profits. Overhearing the story rekindled my determination to pursue and finally put an end to the culprit. Friday night would be my night!

I spent the entire next day rigging my rod, sharpening my hooks, and grinding two full buckets of chum. I asked a friend to drop me off at the beach and if necessary, I planned and prepared to stay all night. The only dilemma I faced was bait. Luckily, in the fridge was sitting a five pound rib roast destined for Sunday nights dinner. It looked fresh and very bloody. It looked perfect. Knowing I was already going to get my hind skinned for staying out all night, I figured what the heck, and grabbed the juicy slab.

I got to the beach just before dark and began setting up. With all the anticipation I neglected to plan how I would get my bait out away from the shoreline and into the deep part of the edge where I knew the shark would be lurking. After a bit of searching I luckily stumbled upon an old crate.

I figured it would be suitable for paddling my bait past the breakers and out into the deep. Even though surfing was new to me, I was determined to accomplish my goal. I put the chunk of meat on the board, rod in clicker mode and began paddling out into the darkness. To say I was scared would be an understatement.

It was pitch black and with blood trailing behind me and my arms dangling in the water, I felt myself shaking with terror. Once I got about a hundred yards out, I pushed the meat off the edge of the weathered crate and began paddling like crazy back toward shore. The second my feet were firmly planted in the sand I felt an instant rush of adrenaline. I knew I still had some work to do but the hard part was over, so I thought.

Back on the beach I felt relieved and at ease again. I quickly finished getting everything ready for a battle that most fishermen only dream about. I stuck the rod in a heavy duty pvc sand spike, checked the drag, and dove right into a pair of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Everything was in place. My excitement level began to climb as I could sense that my childhood dream was about to come true.

After a few hours of patiently waiting it seemed like it would never happen, then all of a sudden, click-click. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely move. Suddenly, another click, click, and then another, as line started to creep faster and faster I began to dig deep holes in the sand for my feet, hoping it would give me enough leverage for my small body against this giant man-eater.

I figured locking up the drag to set the hook was the way to go. Boy was I wrong! As the rod bent and bent I began to get scared. Sitting all alone on the beach the powerful fish was pulling so hard I began to lose my balance. Determined to win this fight I pulled and tugged for all I was worth. Apparently this shark was just toying with me, showing no signs of weakness throughout the entire battle.

As the fish pulled harder and harder I continued to lose my footing. The shark finally pulled so hard that I flew right off my feet and wound up face first in the sand, barely clinging to my dads old rod. This great creature was strong it was literally dragging me down the beach and into the water. It had to be a tiger! I was terrified! Choosing between my own life and the catch of a lifetime, I finally had to let the rod go. Knowing I had my dream fish right in the palm of my hands and then having to let him go was the most disappointing moment of my life. As I sat there looking out over the great sea, I felt mortified at my loss. Suddenly, I felt someone pushing me. Turning to see who it was, I looked up to see my mom standing over me. Panic now took the place of disappointment. I knew for sure I was in for it!

I rubbed my eyes, looked around, and quickly realized I wasnt in trouble at all. As a matter of fact, I was safe and sound in my own bed and my mom was just waking me up for school. It was all just a silly dream. Thank God I thought. As I sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast, I watched my dad in the living room slipping on his white rubber boots, and getting all his commercial fishing gear together for another day on the water, all the while wishing it was me.