Tisseaux has already told me that a good average is one hookup for every three fish that hit the lure. You can't overpower something as strong as a tarpon on light line. That you can catch Megalops atlantica at all, he says, is because the battle takes place as much in the fish's mind as anywhere else. There comes a moment in each fight, he believes, when the great fish begins to wonder whether its unseen opponent is stronger than it thought. If you're bearing down at this instant, you can break the fish psychologically. This is why 200-plus-pound fish are sometimes boated in 15 or 20 minutes. If you are not pressuring the fish at this juncture, however, the fish will fight on. And a defiant tarpon will fight longer than you can. On our fourth pass, the rod with the 43/8-inch redhead Rapala bobbles once, twice, and goes down hard. Elieser shouts. I grab the rod and do the triple hookset while he and Carlos scramble to reel in the other lines. Strangely enough, the fish is swimming toward me, and I have to crank as fast as I can to stay connected. Stranger still, it stays hooked. Elieser watches the angle of my line closely, and when he sees it starting to flatten out, he yells what sounds like "Brita! Brita! Brita!" It's an unlikely time to endorse a brand of water filter, but then it occurs to me that the fish must be getting ready to jump.