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Only the lights secured to our foreheads and kayaks showed the way as we pedaled toward the shadow lines spanning the DuPont Bridge. It was approaching midnight, and our five-man procession powered toward the deep-water pilings that cross East Bay near Panama City Beach, Florida.
“They’re here,” said our guide Nathan (Nate) Chennaux, in a hushed tone. “Just wait until they start blowing up on top.” Nate wears a baseball cap and a scruffy beard like a uniform, and he’s been fishing the bridge since he was a kid.
A massive redfish shattered our growing anticipation after it slurped a crab at the surface. That grabbed everyone’s attention, even with reverbs from the jets taking off at nearby Tyndall Air Force Base.
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