![]() It was a snook! I babbled in amazement as I lowered the landing net and guided the massive fish in. After a 10 minute fight full of screaming runs, the fish surfaced and gave us our first look. By the time the angler reached me for a rod handoff, he dumped half the line on his pin 4/0 reel and was still pulling drag. I noticed that he was only half way back from his truck so I grabbed his rod and set the hook. He was packing up for the night when his big rod bent over. We talked a bit and I even used my landing net to help him bring a few small blacktip and a red drum up to the pier. There was a gentleman set up beside me fishing the inside edge of the same trough. I made a beeline straight to the third trough (always a winner) and set up shop for a long night of fishing. It wasn’t long until I found my way over to Horace Caldwell Pier where I was a regular. My family traveled to our condo in Port Aransas Texas to watch the Independence Day fireworks from the beach. It was a typical Texas summer night in early July. This Texas snook fishing introduction marked the beginning of an addiction that would take me all over the gulf and Atlantic coasts and, ultimately, remake me as an angler. ![]() ![]() Until the moment that iconic stripe broke the surface, I thought I had caught every land-based gamefish on the Texas coast. I saw my first snook in early July of 2004. ![]()
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