Jack Attack

I’m not a fisherman and can't tell the difference between a tuna and a chicken except by the label on the can. Ok, I’m not really that inept.

Let me introduce the lesser amberjack- olive green or brownish black and silver sides; dark band (variably present) extends upward from eye; juveniles have split or wavy bars on sides; proportionately larger eye and deeper body than greater amberjack. Affectionately known as “jacks” a lightening fast fish is known for a low leap out of the water in large schools. While kayaking I’ve startled many schools of jack. Or maybe they have startled me. It is pretty awesome to see them crowd out of the water.

This afternoon Chuck, Bob and I were kayaking the Anclote River. Low tide pushed us down the river toward the Gulf. Ahead of us, I saw a large school of jacks fly out of the water. They looked like gazelles sprinting across the Serengeti. In low arches the fish crossed the surface of the water, repeating the jump several times before disappearing beneath the water.

As we approached the spot where they had been we were talking. I had forgotten about the fish when Bob’s kayak caused the fish to jump out the water. The stampede began. They crossed in front of Chuck’s kayak, but they were on a crash course for my boat.

When in the thick of things, you sometimes miss the appreciation for what happens. All at once I was in the middle of a wall of fish leaping over the bow of my kayak and slamming into the side of the hull right below my paddle. They beat on the hull like a drum. Thump followed thump as the fish followed the leader like lemmings over a cliff. I raised my paddle expecting to get hit in the ribs by the flying fish. It was like being in an avalanche.

As suddenly as it happened, it was over. I inspected my boat amazed I wasn’t hit and that I had no flopping fish in the cockpit. Nor did I find any scales stuck to the bow, but there were several brown streaks left behind. No it didn’t belong to me.