December 22, 6am. I decide the painting of the carport can wait. I headed down Route 41 to check on the Baby Tarpon. It’s a 20- minute drive. Past Marco Island, past Port of the Islands, past the turn-off to Everglades City. In short time, I am there. The sun is up and the mist is hugging the creek shorelines. I lock the car and I’m left in total quiet, except for the squawk of a crow. A dozen white Egrets are perched in the Red Mangroves suspended like Christmas ornaments, waiting for a chance to peck at bait. I see two Manatees rolling and blowing as they surface. Then I see an Alligator maybe 8 feet long. He drifts by in the creek below as I walk to a point where the trees are sparse. He dives away silently. I can see schools of inch-long baitfish hugging the shoreline. It’s cold. Well, relatively cold for Florida, 52-degrees. But, the temperature is gradually warming. By noon it will be 65.The most successful pattern I have used here is a dark chartreuse Clouser Minnow. A small one, just like the baitfish. I tie one on using a loop knot…the only fly-to-tippet knot I use here. I can tie it in the dark.Baby Tarpon are most active here in this creek right around sun up. After 9 AM they seem to quiet down, but they’re active now. I can see Mullet rolling. Then I see a game fish roll and the prominent tail-like fin extension tells me that it’s a Tarpon. Unmistakable! Now, if only he’ll come within casting range! Wow, he rolled right next to the 800 lb. Manatee! I strip off 60 feet of line in big coils at my feet in the grass, false casting until all of it is air born. I rip another 12 feet off the Vortex and send the line streaking next to the wake. My rod tip drops to the water and I begin to slowly strip the line. One long strip per second. One, two, three, four, five…hmm, maybe he didn’t see it…six..WHOA!He followed it! There! A visual take! I could see him strike the fly and I set up on him. Hard! He knows he’s hooked. He runs down and away, then he shoots 4 feet into the air like he was rocket-boosted. I clear some line and set him again! He’s in the air again. This time he’s 15 feet farther away and I quickly reel in the rest of the slack. He turns sideways and I sense he’s mine. Only an 8 pounder. But wow, what fun! Worth the drive out and well worth the effort. I’ll be back to try for his brothers, the 30 and 40 pounders. I can paint the carport now.