The Barracuda of Florida 93 
perhaps two, apparently enjoying its struggles as 
it beat against its muzzle in desperate efforts to 
escape; then would come another gulp, and the 
silvery bait disappeared. 
Such was a typical strike, the entire operation 
being distinctly visible from my position in the 
stern of the dinghy. When the bait was swal- 
lowed or taken entirely into the mouth, I would 
slowly reel in until all the slack was taken; by 
that time the barracuda would feel the fine cop- 
per-wire leader and would give a convulsive 
shake of its head, then fairly leap into motion, 
as it tore the line from the reel, becoming at once 
a type of activity. Fifty, one hundred or more 
feet of the line were taken before its rush was 
stopped, then like an arrow it circled the boat, 
hissing along the surface as I jumped for the bow 
and as I hooked it, whirling the light dinghy 
about and towing it up the channel as would 
a small shark. Slowly the reel would eat up the 
line, and finally, seeing the boat, the fish would 
dash down with an impetuous rush, making the 
click sing again, rising to circle the boat once 
more and again slowly coming in after a splen- 
did display of strength and power. Such a fish 
would often defy a single man, trying to gaff his 
