The weather was fantastic as I arrived at the Cheeca Lodge in Islamorada. I was there to feature this fabulous resort on my television series as well as to fill my fix for piscatorial passion. The Florida Keys have always been an amazing angling destination which is precisely why I headed south.

We had just returned from a great day on the water. The fish were finicky but we still managed to land two tarpon on fly. Tired from a long day, we visited the Curt Gowdy Lounge for a well-deserved cocktail. My guide and I were chatting when we noticed some panic occurring outside. A couple of people whizzed by the windows " then another and another " all running fairly quickly as if they were escaping from a fire. Heads were turning and people were staring out the windows when suddenly, a staff member came flying through the bar door and shouted, "Henry, we need you, come quick!"

With the mullet run in full effect and my stomach eager for the seasons’ first taste of butter-garlic snook, my fishing buddy, Eric Linderman (who we all call “Eric Linsidershy”) and I decided that it was prime time to hit the Indian River Lagoon in search of the elusive slot-size snook. The following morning was picture-perfect with diving birds and surface-busting baitfish surrounding us in every direction. Fortunately with signs of life everywhere, it took little time before we found ourselves in the thick of it.

Like my buddy, after a night of partying, I woke with a splitting headache, but I didn’t care. The weather finally calmed and after multiple days of rough seas, the sun was finally shining and the ocean was calm. It was another day in paradise, or so I thought.

On any other occasion, I would have rolled over and hit the snooze button on the annoying alarm clock, but after being landlocked at the resort for the past three days, I was anxious to get out and wet a line. I woke my less than ambitious friend and advised him to be ready in 15 minutes.

I don’t care how prepared you may be, anyone who spends any length of time on the water is eventually going to come face to face with some sort of trouble. My day came in August, when I got the bright idea of entering a grouper tournament with my father and brother. I attended the captains meeting the night before the big day, and was somehow elected to organize the Calcutta, and hold on to the thousands of dollars of prize money. I remember joking with fellow competitors that I was planning on leaving the money at home. There would be no need to bring the cash to the awards ceremony because the winner already had it.

For years I’ve been a dedicated sailfish angler, that is, until a close friend took me down to Islamorada to wade the bay side flats for tarpon. As soon as I released my first ‘poon, I was hooked on silver kings. Watching those prehistoric monsters leisurely roll has become an addiction. My newly set goal was to catch & release a triple digit fish, as my largest tarpon to date was an estimated 50 pounds.