Now another bluegill smacks the popping bug with a slashing strike, its blue-black back and dorsal fin arcing like a porpoise. I strip in a bit of slack and let the rod work. The float tube spins away from the bank as the bluegill heads for deep water, and I can't help but laugh out loud. When the bite is on in a bluegill pond, it is cast after cast. I go six for six before the commotion puts the fish down and the bite flattens out, but that's no problem. A few flutter kicks take me to new water, new bream beds, new fish that, for a few blissful days in May, just can't help themselves.