You Tell Me

People always search for the big hog, especially when they have bait on the line. Size matters, especially in the world of snook.

One sunny afternoon in December (that's not a typo, it's sunny in Florida in December, and warm, no lies), my boyfriend and I decided we'd throw a few casts. I tossed a DOA lure under my neighbor's dock for about a half hour. There's a hole underneath it that usually produces a jack crevalle at the least. Nothing. Keith tied on a DOA lure as well, and came up empty after half an hour. Although he and I don't usually use spoons, he tied on a gold spoon, and on his first cast: whack. His line took off hard. He let it run, hoping she'd let up soon, but the line kept humming, right around a piling and under our neighbor's dock. Before Keith said anything, our friend Kurt threw a kayak into the water, and the fight was officially on. The snook fought Keith for about 20 minutes, until she tired out and he could finally reel it in. Attached to the of his line was Keith's all-time record, and a record for my backyard as well: a 38 inch monster.
Ashley 1, Keith 1