I glanced back to see Rick fashioning a slip knot in his bow line. I couldn’t believe he was actually going to try my goofy idea. Soon as the lasso was ready, I swung thg shark alongside and he roped it. I gaffed the head. Miraculously we swept it up on the bow. Then we braced for the thumping that would surely follow. The shark never moved a muscle as Rick lashed him down.
We didn’t face a hero’s welcome at Bud N’ Mary’s. Instead, we were met by a half dozen crusty older regular guides, glaring at us as we idled in to the scsles.
“Hey college boy, where’d you get the shark?” Cliff Ambrose snarled.
“Got him on fly,” I proudly announced, not realizing l’d fallen into an already boiling conflict.
“Like hell you did,” Ambrose spat. “Live baiting again, college boy?” Ambrose continued.
“Wait till you jokers see the redfish this boy got,” Rick bristled back. “It’s gonna knock your Met leading fish right out the window.” With that he proudly hoisted the bronze drum from the live well and plopped it on the dock scale.
Right then I saw Roland Reems explode out of the office and sprint towards us. Roland managed Bud N’ Mary’s and quickly broke up the angry reception committee. He weighed the shark. It registered 59 pounds.
After the boat was in its stall, I asked why that group just “happened” to be waiting on the dock.
“Those guys are sore that I stay out later and trailer around with my clients. I told them I was taking a guy out today who was really going to clobber the fish. Guess they wanted to see for themselves. Well, they saw it. Your redfish beat theirs but your shark pushed ’em over the edge,” he grinned. I stayed away from Bud ‘N Mary’s for a while. The next year I took a newspaper editing job in Wyoming. The 9 weight went to work lobbing heavy sinking lines on the Madison and Yellowstone in October for brown trout. I went steelhead fishing in Oregon and visited the Colorado River in Arizona and Califolrnia for stripers.
After graphite became the newest fly rod material, the old SA 9 weight began staying home. It’s last trip was to Argentina. I shipped it to a biologist pal who discovered he needed a “big rod” for rivers larger than his 6 weight could handle. I still have his note thanking me for bailing him out. Since I’ve been talking about it, I’m taking this 9 weight with me right now. It needs a vacation with a few Texas largemouths and some Louisiana redfish.
