Thanks for the tip. We called those reels "open faced" back then, although I've heard the term used for spinning rigs, too, so I've been confused about the nomenclature. I've already edited the story to reflect this. Yes, they were indestructible pieces of equipment, and maintenance free, I've been looking around for one but they don't seem to be too popular any more, they're hard to find. I think mine was a Garcia.

I miss that old braided line, too. It was bulky and not as strong as monofilament, but it was easy on the hands and tangle-resistant, and birds and fish didn't get tangled up in it and die a cruel death.

I don't do much fishing any more, I'm not squeamish or political about killing animals, if it is done responsibly and legally, and the fish is consumed as food, but I do feel guilty about adding to the stress on the sea. It's not just your catch (fish are natural killers too, they would understand) it's the lead sinkers and monofilament and stainless steel hooks and all the other impacts sport fishing makes on an already damaged coastal environment. And even with catch-and-release, the fish you return is injured and weakened and vulnerable to predation and disease for a long time until, and if, it recovers.

Snook were really in trouble until the Wildlife folks began enforcing very strict season and size limits and instituted a fishing licence snook stamp. I am happy to report they are now making a big comeback, to the delight of anglers throughout the Gulf Coast. My summer snook was loaded with roe, I wish now I had caught it a few weeks later.

Many years ago I read a story called "The Last Snook" in a local magazine. It was about an old former snook angler who takes his grandaughter to the aquarium to see the last living snook before it dies.
The fish is pretty beat up, on it's last legs, way past its prime, and it is the last of its kind. The old-timer tells his granddaughter about how common they used to be and how he loved stalking the noble beast when he was a young man. Perhaps that story helped inspire the conservation measures that saved this wonderful animal from extinction. I hope my wildlife writing can also serve that end.

That big fish was not only my first snook, it was my last. (Not because I wanted it that way, those buggers are just hard to catch!). But I have seen many since, while snorkeling, from my boat, and even brazenly feeding off the side of a pier, immune to my efforts to catch them. I know why Hemingway's Old Man loved his fish, too.