5:30am eyes open. East wind. I can either write some code or take a few casts. I choose the latter. Throw some Starbucks in the coffee pot, step into my flip flops and I am on the beach with the sunrise. Bait is everywhere and there are some monster fish screaming through the water. I throw on a shrimp pattern. Nothing. Micro minnow, zero. Forget this, I am going big, loud and obnoxious. So I tie on a huge popper fly with a size 1 hook. I cast it out just beyone the bait. On the second strip, something massive made a pass behind my fly. He did it again on the third strip and then he was gone. I did get a peak at the fish and I think it was a BIG snook, but I am not certain. Whatever it was it was big. So, I make my way down to another pocket of baitfish. Make loads of casts with no luck and just when I was about to call it quits I hit a nice Jack Cravel. It was sweet. The popper fly landed in the water. I stripped hard. Paused. Stripped hard again. Paused. Just as I started to strip again he took a whack at the popper. So, I increased my stripping speed and that popper sure looked like a frantic baitfish. The Jack stayed on it and he whacked it again, but did not take the hook. I stripped faster. The popper fly pushed a ton of water through the air and made a lot of noise. He swirled again. I strippedfaster. Then he just went nuts on the fly. I felt him take it, set the hook, set the hook again and he screamed out line. I had all the room in the worldl, no obstructions. Just miles and miles of sandy beach. He put up a great battle. What a great way to start the day. Forget Wheaties. Flies are the breakfast of champions.