It was a good cast, even the veteran guide behind me said so. Forty feet in front of the largest snook I’ve ever seen and hardly a splash. The fish even stayed course along the wall of mangroves. Then he saw the fly.
Slowly, almost exasperatedly, the 40-plus-inch snook halted, gyrating his pectoral fins, then made an about-face and lumbered off in the opposite direction. No mud-billowing flush; he just did not want anything to do with the bad...