As I always do when I see a new body of water, I wondered what might be lurking under the surface. Probably nothing, I figured. But then I saw the telltale surface ripples that indicated something—minnows, most likely—was living in the pond. The next thing I knew a big fat mullet came leaping up, clearing the water by three feet. Bingo! I knew then that the pond was saltwater—the golf course runs along the banks of the Indian River—and that there were substantial fish swimming in it.

That left the question: anything worth trying to catch? Snook is what I had in mind.

So this morning just before the sun was up, I was parked in the Moorings Club parking lot and unlimbering my 8-foot Crowder rod with a surface lure attached to reasonably heavy line. Hey, if it’s worth catching, it might be really big. Why take a chance until you know what you’re dealing with?

I saw a few more mullet jumping as I began casting from the bank of the pond. Then a swirl or two appeared near the opposite shore, close enough that I could get a cast to them. Pop! Pop! Something small but aggressive whacked the lure twice, possibly a small jack crevalle.

I kept casting in a semicircle around me and after maybe a dozen tosses, a really big swirl under the lure indicated something was thinking about breakfast. I cast again to position the lure so I could pull it through the remains of that big swirl. Wham! A furious blast of water came up around the lure and stopped my retrieve as if I had hooked onto a brick.

Seconds later a beautiful tarpon, probably around ten pounds, gave a tremendous leap and splash. We had a brief tug of war before I got him alongside the bank, where he promptly tangled my line and lure in the weeds. One shake of his head and I had my lure back and he had his freedom back.

Now it’s looking like I might have to join the Moorings Club. I have no use for golf but that pond probably holds some nice snook, too, and membership has its privileges.