Catch the Fluke Doormat with Blue Snapper

The uptick in the rhythm of the tail beats, so slight, brought me back to reality from late morning, daydreams of heat that had consumed me for the better part of drifting. I leaped to attention, the tip of the rod lowered just above the water as my anticipation grew in direct association with the erratic drumming I felt through the cue. then, thump! My penis doubled and its tip was pulled below the surface. I waited a beat, two, then three before finally driving the hook home with an aggressive hook. Several minutes later, after a brief but nerve-wracking struggle, an 8-pound swab was hooked into the net, a blue snapper tail hanging out of its mouth.

I started fishing for luck with the live “skipjack” (Rhode Island’s nickname for juvenile or “snapper” bluefish) about five years ago in an experiment that was the result of several factors. First, I’ve long believed that summer flounder are a lot more aggressive than people give them credit for. Contrary to the image of a passive feeder waiting for meals to float up, experience has led me to believe that luck are proactive predators, following batches of bait that migrate up and down the beach. Big luck is more than willing to shoot from below to secure their prey, and I wanted to see how big of a bait they were willing to take. Plus, with the regulations getting tighter, I needed a way to weed out dozens of short fish that were more than happy to take my traditional rig. Running around in a squid wrapper with nothing in the cooler to show for it was increasingly frustrating. Finally, I like to fish with live bait. Nothing compares to the feeling of the bait being chased and caught by my target and “seeing” the entire scene being played through with my thumb and forefinger on the line.