My son’s cast flew skyward like a pop-fly and landed with a loud splash about 10 feet off the bow. The kerplop made me cringe and undoubtedly gave away our position to any fish within 50 yards. I was just about to suggest that he reel in and cast again when the slack line on the surface disappeared in a blink. His rod bent over hard, the tip dunked below the surface, and Max’s 7-year-old grip went full white-knuckle.
We were fishing a pocket of open water along the eastern edge of the Indian River off Oak Hill, Florida, with guide and longtime friend Capt. Scott MacCalla. It was Max’s first saltwater fishing trip, and you could call it a classic case of beginner’s luck — that was no dink seatrout on the end of his line. The fish burned line off the reel, shook its head and changed direction. Sitting on the forward casting platform, Max
