The second pop was right next to a rock protruding from the shoreline. We could see silvery flashes of the helpless struggling chum baits floating along the bank. Then there would be a bulge of water beneath one of the minnows, and its drift would stop short in a large splashing strike.

Moser smiled and offered us his aquarium-sized bait net. I quickly grabbed an ultralight spinning rod rigged with a straight No. 2 Aberdeen hook.

"Run the hook into its mouth and out the little plate in front of its nostril," Capt. Moser said.

That proved to be a fine-fingered task, not easily accomplished with excited hands more used to handling live pinfish, crabs, and mullet. But I finally managed to hook my bait in a reasonable facsimile of his instructions. After taking aim at one of the strike areas, I flipped open the bail of the spinning reel, cocked my rod and fired a cast that sent the bait near the bridge pilings.

It landed with a tiny splat. I watched the bait carefully and was about to open the bail and give it some additional slack, but a large swirl put an end to all that. I waited until my rod was pulled down and struck back smartly. That lasted but a second before my adversary pulled the rod down again, sharply. It a good initial connection, helped along by the thin-wired, sharp-pointed hook.

I struck the fish again for good measure. The drag shrieked as the fish surged into the bridge's shadows.

After a short battle, the fish came up and thrashed on the surface, revealing itself as a golden-hued warrior of about 3 to 4 pounds. I eased the peacock bass alongside the boat and turned to Moser for advice as how to land the fish with such light line.

Then I realized that both he and Jon were hooked up to fish as well. The captain just pointed to a net alongside his console. I quickly scooped up the battler, but left it in the water until Jon could release his fish and take some photos.

Such action would be repeated a number of times during the day, and I soon learned that such results are the norm when live-baiting for peacock bass.

THE MOSER METHOD
Capt. Butch Moser has been fishing the inland lakes and canals of western Palm Beach County since the early 1980s. Prior to that, he fished salt water off the same coast for 20 years.

The motive for his shift from salt to fresh was the decline in numbers and frequency of marine game fish. That was in stark contrast to the rapidly expanding peacock bass fishery, which began in 1984 when the state began stocking the species in South Florida's canal systems.

Moser got in on the ground floor of a now explosively popular fishery and has certainly established himself as one of Florida's top peacock guides.