A signature leap just off-shore.

Two hundred yards, halfway between here and the shore,” I whispered. “That’s not the lead fish that just rolled. He’s about 20 feet in front of that one.”

Mike and Duane Prasek eyed the fish intensely, and then grabbed 20-pound baitcasting rods and slid to the back of the boat to prepare to cast live threadfin herrings to the fish.

“Where do I cast?” asked Mike, as we closed the gap with the trolling motor.

“Land your bait 20 yards in front of the middle of the school, then head to the back of the boat. Duane, cast to either side of Mike’s bait so you won’t tangle and maybe get a double hookup,” I advised.

As the fish closed to within 50 yards, I slowed the trolling motor to keep the boat at a slight angle of the school. The Praseks must have been living right, because the lead fish rolled 30 yards out, divulging the school’s location and progress in the predawn light. Mike made a long cast and headed to the back casting deck while Duane took the inside tack with his cast. No one said a word until a fish flashed directly behind the boat. Duane tried to retain possession of his fishing rod.

“Fish on!” he shouted, as a 150-pounder cleared water directly behind the boat. But it threw the bait on the second jump. Before I could offer words of encouragement to Duane, Mike had a second, smaller fish in the air.

“I think I’m going to like Florida,” Mike grunted, as his fish went totally unglued in a series of greyhounding jumps. “God, that was beautiful,” he added.

A stern-mounted trolling motor helped these anglers cinch the deal. They run more stealthily through swells or chop.

Mike worked the 50-pounder to the boat quickly. Not bad for a Texan on his first Florida tarpon trip. The rest of the day followed suit, as we put six more fish in the air, releasing one, and jumping the others off. By early afternoon, we were headed back toward the Ft. Pierce Inlet for a little catch-and-release snook fishing, but the talk that evening was all about tarpon. They had the bug now, having sampled the early summer Florida Atlantic beach tarpon migration.

Many anglers seem surprised that tarpon fishing is so consistent along the Atlantic beaches, but it’s only logical that a portion of the more heralded fish that migrate through the Florida Keys continue northward to South Carolina. Only a small portion of the fish get any pressure. In such large numbers, the tarpon feed competitively, and long treks make them hungry.

Once the body of fish moves north of the Keys and Biscayne Bay, they are in open water over sand and shallow patch reefs. These reefs form a line that runs the entire length of the coast and serve as a rough path for their trip. Wherever the reeflines are exposed, tarpon travel the shoreward side of the structure in anywhere from 6 to 25 feet of water. Outside edges of sandbars bounce them back out a bit as they move northward. It is by no coincidence that hammerhead sharks show up to dog the tarpon schools. That’s why tarpon are reluctant to move far from shore.