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PrintFly Rod Convert
Peter Moyer
Every spring, Jackson Hole angler and lawyer Peter Moyer makes a pilgrimage to Homosassa, Florida, north of Tampa. Because unusually large tarpon migrate to its shallow flats, most tarpon fly-rod world records have been set there, like the current record of a 76-inch, 202-pound fish. In these famed waters, Moyer, with guide Mike Locklear, caught a giantess that trumped the world record by about ten inches and 25 pounds. She—all tarpon weighing more than 110 pounds are females—probably carried at least fifteen million eggs. Honoring her genetic potential, Moyer let the fish swim away. Last December, Outside Magazine listed Moyer alongside the likes of Michael Phelps and Lance Armstrong in its 100 Best Ever Awards, giving him a “Badass of the Year Award for Honor.”
Q. What was it like catching the fish?
A. Tarpon go ballistic when you hook them and literally jump higher than your head when you’re standing in the boat. It’s a real trip: you are in shallow water, you have these submarines coming at you, and you have the guide yelling at you as you’re rocking around.
Q. What tackle did you use?
A. I had really light tackle—a 10-weight fly rod with 16-pound-test class tippet. I used a homemade fly that I tied. It was greenish and slow-moving like a crab.
Q. How long was the fight?
A. Just an hour and twenty minutes. A fish that size could fight you for five days, but you want to get them in as quick as you can so that when you release them, they are not weakened and vulnerable to sharks.
Q. Is catch and release debated among tarpon fishermen?
A. Hardly anyone kills a fish anymore. My guide Mike’s family has been in Homosassa for generations. He has seen the impact of killing all the big fish—there are fewer of them. For a guide, getting a world record is a huge deal. During the fight I said, “It’s the real deal, Mike, but I want to release her.” He totally agreed. We both felt great watching this enormous fish swim away.
Q. Did you start fishing in Jackson?
A. No, back east, when I was four. My parents couldn’t make me go to church—they couldn’t find me. I would be out in the rivers somewhere. I started spin fishing with worms. I won the One Fly in 2006 with a worm imitation, so it sort of came full circle.
