The Big Bad Bay Blues
By Dennis Doyle
The rod tip didn’t even twitch, the whole top of the stick just slammed down hard as a powerful fish picked up my bait and headed away. I feared the rod holder would fail before I could reach my tackle and wrestle it out, transferring the strain to my forearms.
My drag was firm enough to set the 10/0 circle hook but it hardly slowed the fish in its determined departure and after collecting my rod I further tempted the fates by pressing my thumb on the turning spool and adding to the strain. The 20-pound test line I was using was fresh and I wasn’t worried about any hidden kinks or flaws in the line as it stretched, creaked and scorched my thumbprint.
Still the fish didn’t slow and it was only the thought that there was plenty of line in reserve that calmed my nerves as the mono disappeared into the distance. I soon noticed that the speed of the devil’s departure was not as rapid as it was determined and that patience was…