We had been chasing tarpon — a giant fish constructed of silver dollar scales, dark eyes the size of plums, and a mouth that could swallow a basketball — in the warm, blue waters off Boca Grande. The pass at Boca is renowned tarpon water, and the coast nearly so: it’s here that Americans, who can’t be bothered (or afford) to fly south to South America or elsewhere, go to chase tarpon. All morning, we had been doing just that: driving with our guide up and down the coast in his 18′ center console boat, searching for schools of tarpon. We blazed past islands and boats and fishy looking sections, stopping here and there, with not a single fish in sight.