by Capt. Russ Shirley

It's been a very strange post-El-Nino fishing season indeed. With Florida receiving it's record 70 inches of rain. Unusually strong winds, numerous tornadoes, dirty water and basic conditions of hell, tarpon season seemed pretty far out of focus and running late. As the fish made their annual trek up the west coast there were some sightings, but they were few and far between, unless fishing farther south where the water temperatures were higher and the fish were holding for better conditions.

Even though we were enjoying the bright and warm sunny days of early summer, many sport divers told me stories of unusual cold thermals knocking their breath away. Although the air temperature may be running in the mid to upper 80's the water would sometimes change as much as 6 to 8 degrees within a day. Large gulf-swimming sailfish were being taken within sight of the beaches. Baitfish would come and go overnight as well as the tarpon. But the search continued for the first silver king to throw a cast to.

With hundreds of miles traveled, both over land and water. And as tears fell from smoke pollution arriving from Mexico's fires (thanks again Mr. El), a small spot emerged and grew. Daily, more numbers of fish arrived with almost clockwork timing. Finally, I had found a secret spot with only one fly in the air - my clients.

As the day started, I remember feeling this day was a little different. As if something special were coming, something I'll now call real luck on double-time! As my client, Dr. Jim Nielsen, (a well respected, west coast eye surgeon and fly fisherman) cast his 12 weight, I began to notice an unusual ability Jim possessed in coaxing these particular fish to eat. It was on his second eating fish that we both got REAL lucky. Although I am usually recording video on fish that look hungry, this fish I didn't, at least not right away. I surely didn't expect what was to come.

As I recall, two large tarpon rounded a corner. As one disappeared the other headed towards us presenting a perfect front shot. Jim placed the fly in the perfect position, the tarpon approached on track and looked like an eater. When the fly was twitched the fish spooked, hurriedly moving around the fly but staying within casting distance. A second cast was made only to be ignored. I turned the boat gradually keeping Jim in the best angle for casting while the fish circled around our spot. At this point, I really thought this fish would not eat anything from our boat even if it was served on a silver platter. And, as I had done on the first fish earlier I would usually have turned on the video camera mounted on back of the platform with me. On the third cast Jim stripped the fly and the tarpon turned a good 90 degrees and rushed forward, eating the fly as if attacking it.

With the calmness and cool of a daily performed surgical procedure, Jim lifted the rod up and to the right and let the now speeding tarpon take all slack off the deck. The mighty silver king sped towards the boat, turned away and quickly jumped once, twice, three times, losing us in the sunlit glare on the water. I shouted to Jim, "Reel, reel, reel" as I thought she may be heading in our direction. These few seconds are now passing in slow motion for as I tried to make out where the tarpon was heading, something amazing happened. From six feet out, she leaped from the water and jumped right for me as I crouched on the platform. Luckily I was still in a semi-crouched position and my center of balance was good. She hit somewhere between the platform leg and motor, then flipped ends, and landed below me on the deck covering the width from gunwale to gunwale. My first thought was to quickly jump down and slide the fish off the deck back into the water. But, after a second-estimated-thought of a fish in the range of 180 lbs, bashing the deck and hatches, I stayed on the platform, turned on the video camera with my right hand and quickly placed the push pole in it's platform holder. All hero thoughts would have to wait as she continued to violently thrash and slide down between the console and the back bulkhead.

I had heard many tales of the destruction had by a few when this unplanned boarding happens, but still could not believe my eyes as she proceeded to undoubtedly tear my original silver king skiff to pieces. As she pounded in the small space where I normally place my legs while driving, everything close was either flying or breaking. I think we both thought she was going to calm down in this spot when she started moving out and up towards Jim, who's now backing up farther towards the bow.

She finally stopped and we snapped a few pictures before easing her over the side. With both of us agreeing we wanted this fish to live, the next hour and a half we held her while moving up and down the flat, staying in as shallow as possible for two reasons. One, we could keep her far from the sharks and two, when we thought she was ready we could let her go and still retrieve her (which we did three times) before releasing her on her own with a prayer under my breath.

All in all I'd say we were the lucky ones. Besides the cuts we both had from a shattered Gatorade bottle which I hadn't seen Jim bring aboard and some minor damage around the boat, things could have been much worse. After an hour cleaning up, we ate some late lunch and had two more fish on by the end of the day. I only hope the big girl was as lucky as the two of us.