There was some disagreement in the club about fishing that day because of weather conditions. The summer pattern of afternoon storms was in full swing and they were calling for a solid chance of thunderstorms with potentially heavy lightning activity. Since we were going to be land-based shark fishing, which requires the logistical consideration of hauling a lot of gear out to the beach and setting up a camp, we wanted to be sure it would be worth the effort. Plus there was the fact we live and fish in the lightening capital of the world. In the end, we decided to head for Gasparilla Island, check conditions when we got there and make the decision at that time.

It was 50/50 when we arrived, which was good enough for us. The water was dirty, but flat, the skies were dark all around with some nasty stuff to the northeast, but we’d keep an eye out and give it a go. After setting up camp and rigging the Tiagra 50, the Penn 9 and the Shimano 6500 with a mix of jacks and mullet, it was time to feed the sharks. Thanks to the weather, we had the entire beach to ourselves as far as you could see north and south. Some nasty stuff to the north kept us guessing so if need be, we’d cover the camp with tarps, and head for the car to ride it out.

We always fish the surf while shark baits are soaking to see what else is hungry. For the most part, it was pretty quiet this day. Maybe the storms and barometric pressure were shutting things down. But then we began seeing a few decent snook up high in the wade gut and we started stalking them from further out. It’s funny how you can throw everything but the kitchen sink at them sometimes, and nothing. This seems to happen when they’re in season, too. Deer & snook…we’re convinced they can read a calendar.

Anyway, it was quiet until we got a visitor. No fins, but two legs. A sporty young woman comes up over the dunes in a bikini top and shorts with a fishing rod and a tackle box looking like she means business. Turns out she’s in town visiting friends who don’t like to fish. Imagine that, living in Boca Grande and not fishing. She tells us she had borrowed a golf cart and wrecked it into something on the way over looking for a place to wet a line. The only thing missing was a drink in her hand with an umbrella sticking out of it. So she starts asking where to fish and what’s biting, and what we’re fishing for. We told her pretty much anywhere in these parts is worth fishing, it’s tarpon season and we’re fishing for sharks. Then she asked if we minded her fishing with us, what a tarpon was, and if you can really catch sharks from the beach. She got settled in and we started explaining what a tarpon was. She didn’t get it, especially how big they can get. Oh, yeah. We also assured her you can catch sharks from the beach.

Some more time passed without much activity. Even the snook at had moved on. The skies were still threatening, but keeping their distance while we talked fish with our new friend. She was asking if she would be able to catch one of those “tarpon fish” on her tourist rig when suddenly Tom’s Tiagra starts screaming! Almost instantaneously, Brooks' Shimano joins in and his 15’ Ugly Stick is getting tested. Well, at least we’d be able to show her a couple of sharks landed from the beach. Not so fast, though. Just as Brooks is heading for his rig and I’m looking around to see where Tom is, I take a peek offshore and see two tarpon jumping simultaneously about 200 yards off the sand! At first, it didn’t register, but then I realized we had a double tarpon hookup! By this time, Tom is running over the sand dune towards his rig. I’m screaming, “TARPON, TARPON” and he doesn’t believe me until he sees one catching some serious air for about the 4th time. Brooks is hooked up and his fish is putting on a circus act of its own out there.

I tell them to both relax and just enjoy the show. I’d take care of getting some pictures and helping them land these fish…hopefully! By now, they’re both gaining line and our golf cart-driving guest can’t believe what she’s seeing. She’s finally going to see a tarpon up close and personal. By this time, I remember we are fishing Boca Grande Pass so this really isn’t much of a stretch. But they picked up dead shark baits on the bottom…I stopped trying to figure it out and get back to landing these fish.

Tom was working his in pretty well by now. Brooks' was still pretty lit up as he maneuvered it in towards the first bar. Just a little further and we’d have him in the wade gut. Suddenly, the fish was coming over the bar, but just as a wave broke leaving it high and dry for just a split second. That’s all it took. The 30# Power Pro gave way and the fish disappeared as the wave rolled off the bar. It was instant heartbreak, but we still had Tom’s fish so we snapped out of it and moved to help him. By this time, his was in the wade gut. I got out there, grabbed the leader and secured the fish. By now, golf cart girl was a little dumbfounded because just a few feet off the beach and in our hands was a fish like one she'd never seen. She did manage to get a few shots of all of us with the fish before it's release. This tarpon was actually foul hooked near the anal fins and suffered a few minor lacerations from the leader, but fortunately appeared to be in great shape upon release.

Shortly thereafter, Brooks got his rig deployed again, and not much later, he’s jumping another tarpon! This time he’s not going to suffer the same fate, but a different one. After a brief aerial demonstration, it spit the hook. At least seeing one jump on the end of your line is the next best thing to landing one. I told him about one out of every three tarpon an angler hooks up with is actually landed so the next one’s going to be meeting him in person. We felt for him. It was tough to lose two in that short time frame, but he said, “We’ve got some sharks to catch if the silver kings will stop crashing the party. Let's get back to business."

Later that night, the surf lit up and surrendered numerous jacks and a few snook. Tom and I each managed to hook up with decent bull sharks. It turned out to be a well-rounded trip, to say the least. One bull was returned in good condition after tagging it. The other was unfit for release, but it was put to the highest and best use, as usual, feeding many over the next couple of months. Eventually, we’ll get the jaws mounted to commemorate an awesome day of fishing.

After steaking the bull, cleaning and stowing the gear, we finally hit the sack. And my guess is Brooks dreamed about the next trip and that elusive 3rd tarpon. For more about that, click here.