"There's a tail, 12:00, about 25 feet out... you got one shot, don't mess it up." My brother sat on the bank teasing me as I did my best to convince the large "carp" to eat. I stared into the water for a few minutes following his every movement in hopes of determining his pattern.
Every few seconds, bluegill would come leaping out of the water hurriedly, and disappear back into the depths. One presentation after another ended up being stolen by a pesky panfish, and it was starting to annoy me. Trying my best to avoid the panfish, I waited until the tail came closer to shore, and only then would I present my offering.
What seemed like hours passing turned out to be only a few minutes as I waited for my shot at the fish. As the large, looming tail approached the bank, I dropped the fly on his nose, and watched as the tail accelerated quickly, and then came to an abrupt stop. I waited, "one mississippi, two mississippi, set!" I gave the line a tough strip set, and before my eyes, line began peeling away from my reel. Game on.
With nothing but a mud bottom, the fish didn't have much to do but run, and with 2X tippet, he only lasted a short time before succumbing to the constant pressure of my line. As I slid him on shore, I realized hat this was no carp. With whole bluegill tails hanging from his throat, I couldn't believe my eyes as I hoisted the largemouth from the water. While I was hoping for a carp, I was equally as happy with a fish of this caliber.
|Excited? Yeah, you could say that!|
I revived the fish carefully, and watched as he swam slowly back to his feeding grounds. It puzzles me as to why he was tailing like a carp, but I guess I'll never know!