The next time a friend asks you to go on a big game fishing trip for free, ask a few questions before committing. One very important such question would be "What time of day will we be fishing?". This simple question can save you alot of agony later on. Trust me.
So, why do Tarpon have to feed in the MIDDLE OF THE FREAKING NIGHT? Some crap about the tides, I know. I don't buy it. I think they just like messing with drunk people. I saw them down there, laughing their shiny silver tails off at us. We must have looked ridiculous. Cigars hanging from seasick mouths, chugging beers we could hardly hold onto in the surging tidal currents of Boca Grande, we stared through the dark water wondering what our little bait crabs were doing down there, and if they were scared.
We would occasionally hook a tarpon, or so I vaguely remember, and one of us would fight with it in some kind of surreal midnight tug-of-war until it gave up or broke the wire. My hundred-pound silver devil went down below the boat, adding scientific credence to my drunk-people theory. When he came up, there was just enough time for him to stare me in the face and smile (I swear, he smiled) before the captain cut the wire and he drifted slowly down into the inky black again. Off to mess with more drunks, no doubt.
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