We didn’t wait long. My plug stopped under the bridge, the rod bent deeply. For a split second, I feared I’d snagged bottom, but then the bottom raced back toward the fenders. Tuttle maintained speed to pull the fish away from the bridge. Safely beyond, I eased the pressure and enjoyed a fight with what felt like a brute of a snook. Minutes later, Tuttle lifted a 20-pounder out of Biscayne Bay, amid Cheshire cat like grins and plenty of cheering. Talk about a first-round knockout!