ARE YOU MAN ENOUGH?
Written by Deschutes Angler Guide Evan Unti
In order to chase the big boys we had to target channels in the reef which were deeper water then I anticipated, but my fellow Deschutes Angler Guide Steve Light had selected the right line for the occasion. The recommended set up was a 26 ft. 500 grain sinking head attached to an Intermediate Running Line with a 6 inch fly. Having never cast a line of this magnitude on a single handed rod, it took some getting use to. But once I dialed this line in, it sailed 100 ft. effortlessly.
When we pulled into the channel, Ian quickly released the anchor and told us to wait for the Tarpon to start rolling. Within minutes of cutting the engine, the fish began rolling all around the boat. I was seriously intimidated by their sheer size. In fact, I wasn't sure at this moment whether I even wanted to attempt a cast for fear of being pulled from the boat. Unfortunately, I didn't have an option because Steve refused to fish and Ian was getting antsy.
I stepped up on the deck and began to work out the necessary line needed to get the fly out far enough. I began to false cast and sailed out a 90 footer into the area where the fish were rolling.
“Let it sink for 20 seconds before retrieving” Ian stated.
I stood up there twiddling my thumbs as Steve sat, feet up on the cooler, sipping an ice cold Belikin.
“Now strip like you mean it!” Ian hollered.
I began stripping aggressively watching the tip of my rod. Within 15 strips, I felt a slight bump and then another.
“Ian, something is screwing with my fly but it feels small!”
“Just KEEP STRIPPING mon'!”
So, to my guides surprise, I did exactly what he said.
“Something keeps bumping the fly!” I said. Just as I finished talking the rod jumped and bucked hard.
“Strip mon', strip its a TARPON!” Ian yells.
I give the line one quick jerk back and the line is ripped from my hand cutting into my fingers. Ian catapults from the back of the boat to the front in one jump and begins clearing my line.
“Bow the rod! BOW THE ROD NOW!” Ian screams.
Before I have even processed what he is saying, the fish shoots out of the water like a rocket and scares the crap out of me.
“Holy @#$@ !!!!” I scream.
“That’s a BIG ONE mon'!” Ian yells enthusiastically.
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The fish hits the water and takes off running at an uncontrollable speed, then rockets out of the water again. I have never seen so much backing out the tip of a rod and I quickly began to doubt whether I would even get the fly line back.
“WHAT DO I DO!” I yelled.
“ Just hold on mon' and pray the hook is buried!” Ian yells back.
“I hope the hook ISN'T buried!” I think to myself as I begin the longest battle of my life.
20 minutes had gone by and by this time I was sweating profusely and my arms were cramping up. Of course, Steve was there letting me know exactly how long the battle had taken and how much longer he expected the fight to continue. I could tell I wasn't even half way into the battle as Steve and the guide casually sat in the back of the boat b@llsh#tting.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh! WHEN is this going to be over?” I yell. Steve and Ian just laugh.
The battle took 9 jumps, two 250 yard runs and about an hour before Ian put the gloves on and began to land the fish. It was incredible to see the size of this fish up close. The fish damn near pulled Ian out of the boat as he hoisted the fish up for a couple of quick pictures. After the photo I sat down, cracked a beer and told Steve and Ian that I was done for the day. Heading back to resort, I looked at Steve and foolishly stated “Lets do that tomorrow!”. Boy, I should have kept my mouth shut because Ian took us back to the channel at first light.
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