I posted back in January about my “insurance policy,” a dilapidated old dock and boat lift near where I keep my flats boat. I explained back then that if things hadn’t gone well out on the flats, I would swing by that old dock and toss a bait under it to see what turned up. Quite often I would pull a fat trout or snook from under the dock and occasionally a big redfish or black drum. I call it my “last chance” dock because it’s where I make final effort to catch dinner before heading home.

Well, it was looking like I was going to get skunked this morning. I had been fishing a line of docks sticking out from mangroves, usually good habitat for snook and reds. But dozens of casts with lures and live bait had yielded exactly zero hits and it looked like I was going home empty handed. But I still had some live bait so I figured it was worth a short detour to the old dock for one last cast.

As usual I eased up to the dock using my trolling motor. This morning I had live pinfish for bait and as soon as I was in range I tossed it up against the corner of the boat lift.  But I going a bit too fast when I shut off the trolling motor and I kept coasting right toward the dock. I was thinking more about fending off than about that pinfish swimming under the dock when suddenly I almost had the rod snatched out of my hands. The fish took off in a rush but on the opposite side of an offshore piling from where I was!  The drag was set pretty tight so that I could try to horse anything big from under the dock before the line caught on the barnacles and broke. But this fish was taking line like there was no tomorrow. He had my rod pinned to that piling and threatened to break it. 

As soon as the boat was close enough I passed the rod around the piling—it was too tall to pass it over—and the fight continued. Now that the fish was in open water I could ease up on the drag to avoid the threat of a broken line, but that just gave the fish more incentive to run. At that point I was trying to figure out what I had tied myself to. Snook and trout don’t fight that hard. It could have been a big redfish, but they tend to be more dogged about fighting and don’t move as fast as this thing was moving. Must be a big jack, I thought. We went around and around for five minutes or so before the fish tried enough to get to the boat. It was a giant mangrove snapper, the biggest I’ve ever caught.

Now don’t get me wrong. By offshore standards, my mangrove wasn’t much to talk about. But by dock fishing standards he was a megafish. Mangrove snapper spend their juvenile period inshore hanging around docks and pilings. They’re great for kids to catch because they’re aggressive and put up a good fight even though they seldom go over a pound. But as they mature mangroves move offshore to the deeper reefs. This one must have been kicked out of school and come back home for some reason. Once again my insurance policy dock paid off.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to look for some recipes for baked snapper.