If you’ve taken a lesson with me or attended one of my presentations, you’ve heard me say that we all put our waders one leg at a time. So, even though I may be considered an authority of sorts, I’m still human — and I still make mistakes on the water.

Twice now, on my last two trips to the Cape, the catch has been trending small. Twice, I’ve subsequently hooked into something very large, and lost the fish.

Now, you could make a case that I was a little unlucky. There’s probably some truth to that. But the single biggest reason I lost those potential cows is because I wasn’t ready for them. I didn’t make a powerful initial hookset. And by the time I realized what was happening, I’d already lost the fish.

My most recent tale of woe came earlier this week on the Brewster Flats. I was fishing a small weighted crab pattern, probably on a size 4 hook, letting it bounce along the bottom, then swing up at the end of the drift. It had been a slow morning — Gordo, who was spin fishing with a jig head small soft plastic, had connected with two smaller bass. So that’s what I was expecting. I hadn’t had a touch all morning, and had been cycling through patterns in a desperate attempt to find something the fish might eat. The crab fly was on the dangle below me just over a deep hole, and I was daydreaming.

WHACK! The bass hit the fly like a bullet train. Immediately, line began screaming off the reel. The fish made a textbook striper series of runs: one good, long one, then a pause (where I attempted to reset the hook and gain some line). Then a second powerful, albeit shorter run. I reset again, but it felt wrong. I was furiously cranking the reel when the line went slack. Heartbreak.

So. I hoping that I’ve learned my lesson. It’s OK to expect small, but be prepared for big. I certainly will be.

Next time.