Pictures won't be necessary

Last winter Greg and I decided that we had spent enough time on boats watching others catch sailfish. It should be out turn. So with that we studied the fish and took to the seas. Unfortunately, like any new undertaking there's much to learn, and we found ourselves empty handed at the end of the winter.....
Many people in Florida are remiss this time of year as the leaves in the NE turn and the wind turns crisp and cool. Others of us have found a replacement for leaves cool Canadian air as we eagerly anticipate the schools of mullet traveling down Florida coast. It means the Sailfish are close behind. After hearing good reports from the fleet last weekend, we made our seasons first trip on Saturday equipped with lessons from last year and determined this would be the day. We fished out of Ponce Inlet on "My Escape" a twin engine, 266 Sailfish with my good friend Greg and our buddy Cpt Fricke. The day began with high expectations as flyers were darting everywhere and birds were diving. The bite was slow, but we managed three skipjack tuna before we found our fish. They were circling a spot that gave no indication of gathering outside of a lonely bird circling overhead. No temperature changes, bait flying, weeds or color changes. Just one lonely bird. I was lucky to be on the reel for the first knockdown as it turned out to be the only hookup of the day. It wasn't much of a fight as the fish wrapped the line around his bill and made quick work of getting free. She jumped at least three times before we lost her and another two after the line broke as if to say, "nice try, rookie!". We fished that spot for another 2 hours with 6 knockdowns, but no more hookups. You read this and may think we experienced a huge disappointment. For those that wonder why anyone would spend hours trolling the open sea, reading magazines, practicing knots and rigging ballyhoo (often with little to show) those 15 seconds made up for as many trips as it took to get us to that point. For the brief moment when you get to tangle with the spindlebeak, when you set the drag, rear back and feel that fish, you find humility. You remember exactly what it is that drives you to come back again. That moment you'll have forever imprinted as a memory as fond as any others you'll share. I can only imagine what it will be like when the fish is alongside the boat and I'm holding the bill, watching the color return to the fish as it finds it's strength and swims away. I'll have a camera at the ready on that day. But for now, pictures won't be necessary.