by Jenny Stletovich, August 14, 2018
Miami Herald
On a cloudless, windless day in Pine Island Sound usually perfect for fishing, Capt. Chad Huff sees something that breaks his heart and threatens his livelihood: an 80- to 100-pound tarpon, probably a dozen years old, scales glistening like armor forged from silver dollars, bobbing on the surface.
Its lifeless body is beginning to bloat. Its eyes, ten thousand times stronger than a human’s, have clouded over.
“Horrible,” mutters Huff, a second-generation fishing guide. “Eighty percent of what I get paid for is the pursuit of one of these on a fly rod.”