July 20, 2012
By David Brown
The Gift
By David Brown, Special to Florida Sportsman online
During a media event hosted by D.O.A. Lures out of River Palm Cottages in Jensen Beach, I had the opportunity to fish with D.O.A. founder Mark Nichols and legendary Texas scribe Joe Doggett. My Lone Star colleague wanted to catch a snook and I needed trout photos, so Nichols ran us down the Indian River to a grassflat south of the Stuart Causeway. Wading the fertile grass/sand bottom would deliver loads of trout and a big surprise.
Eager to test my premise of minimizing summertime fatigue by using lighter gear, I hopped out of the boat with a 7-foot Quantum Exo series spinning rod and an Exo30PTi reel – a super light outfit officially made for bass fishing, but crossing into briny scenarios. I had spooled up with braid, but with only 20-pound fluorocarbon in my bag the night before, I would soon realize the disadvantage with which I had saddled myself.
After a couple hours of tempting trout with ¼- and ½-ounce D.O.A. shrimp, Nichols stuck a small snook and we decided to spread out and look for a redfish to complete a slam. Well, we didn't get a slam, but I definitely got slammed! I had just switched from a gold/red flake shrimp to the green holographic about 10 minutes earlier and after releasing a nice trout, I flung the bait toward the center of a broad sandy patch. As the shrimp neared the grass edge, I gave it a sharp hop with the intention of attracting interest on the fall.
A big snook had other plans.
Bait rises to the surface, big silver shadow follows, water erupts and someone (I think it was me) screams like a little girl. True to form, the large linesider rips off a 50-yard sprint in maybe two seconds. No jumps, no thrashing, just brute strength and four more heart-pounding runs. The Exo rod proved remarkably strong and the reel's smooth drag system matched those blistering runs step-for-step. Nevertheless, one thought kept me cringing throughout the 10-minute battle – "20-pound leader, dummy."
Eventually, a tired slab of snook eased my way and after one final dash – right between my knees, no less – I narrowly avoided a stumbling entanglement, grabbed that huge lower jaw and with the other hand supporting an ample midsection, I hoisted that solid 38-incher. Thankfully, Mr. Doggett was there to snap a few photos and a videographer from a nearby boat joined us to shoot the revival and release.
I gave the big snook my traditional farewell kiss on the snout, along with a few words of thanks for the memorable experience. As she swam away, I thought to myself: "Twenty-pound leader; yep, this one was a gift."