I was ready, but frankly surprised, when a tarpon rolled in the slue 50 feet ahead of the boat. Captain Joe Harley instantly cautioned me to hold my cast, but then gave me the nod to make a presentation just seconds later. I made the cast and stripped two times before the line came tight. At the same instant I set the hook, a baby tarpon made a classic head shaking jump high into the air, scales rattling as water shower from its body.

Moments later, the tarpon made a second and then third jump, each one as spectacular as the first. As the fish made a short but strong run, I realized that I had all the tarpon my eight-weight fly outfit could handle and hoped my bite tippet would hold until I got the fish to the boat. I had rigged with a 40-pound fluorocarbon bite tippet expecting a much smaller fish. This tarpon, at close to 25 pounds, was having nothing to do with my attempts to get it quickly to the boat. On three or four occasions, just as Harley reached for the fish, it again leaped from the water showering both of us.

It seemed like we would never get the tarpon to the boat for a photo when it rolled over and allowed me to guide it to Harley's waiting hands. After getting a firm grip on the fish, we realized our good luck that the red and yellow Seaducer was wedged perfectly in the corner of the fishes' mouth, protecting the fragile bite tippet from coming into contact with the raspy jaws of the tarpon. After a few quick pictures Harley revived the tarpon, and we watched as it swam away, occasionally surfacing for a gulp of air. Harley looked at me with his affable smile, gave me a high five and commented, "She'll take the afternoon off, but she's fine"

This was our second stop of the morning, one that began just after eight and ended before lunch. We had fished a back country cove, chasing rolling fish for a couple of hours before we moved to the second and last stop. Although we threw at numerous rolling fish at the first cove, we got only one bite before moving.

The second stop produced quickly, but required a long idle through a slow motor zone. As we traveled from the marked channel that leads through the oyster studded shoals of the Matlacha Aquatic Preserve towards the distant island, I had my doubts that our time was being well spent. I should have known better. This wasn't the first time I had fished with Harley, who always impressed me with his knowledge of the local waters and the habits of its tarpon, snook and other species.

This is not surprising considering that he grew up fishing the surrounding waters. He caught his first snook in Matlacha in 1977 and has been teaching others how to fish the water around Pine Island Sound and Matlacha ever since. At a young 40 years of age, he has gained the respect of his clients, local guides and the many seasoned anglers that ply these waters. You might have seen him on television on one of the nationally recognized shows like "Fly Fishing the World" or featured in one of the premier fly fishing magazines.

While he specializes in fly fishing, Harley is versatile and enjoys showing photographers, nature lovers and shellers alike the wonders of the area. The waters that surround Pine Island and Matlacha are one of the few places in Florida where you can still get lost in the mangroves and feel like you are in a different country or time. Just look at Google Earth and marvel at the myriad habitats that exist in a 15-mile radius – from the clear waters of the Gulf beaches with an array of natural islands to thousands of miles of backcountry creeks in the Pine Island Sound and Matlacha Pass Aquatic Preserves. And then there are the captivating habitats that line the southern edges of Charlotte Harbor.

I highly recommend Harley as the perfect guide to this amazing and historic habitat. He can be reached at joe@snooktown.com or visit his website at www.snooktown.com.