In September, the beaches from Port Canaveral to Fort Pierce are alive with snook feeding in the surf. Photo by Rodney Smith.

A wave of mullet rode up and over the tossing lip of a 5-foot swell and crashed into the barnacle-covered rocks lining the base of Sebastian Inlet’s north jetty. As the swell receded, mullet scattered though the white water, struggling to avoid a fury of snook driven into a feeding frenzy. Pelicans joined the action, dive-bombing injured mullet from above, while anglers from the beach tried to avoid being swept by waves as they cast their lines towards the action.

The first true northeaster of the fall season had arrived to the Indian River Lagoon coast. Sure, there had been a short span of breezes from that direction earlier in August. But they were only a mere hint of what was to come as autumn arrived in these parts.

By September, it becomes obvious that each day is growing shorter. The sun is sinking farther south, and the average day- and nighttime temperatures are declining. These changes help make fishing increasingly more comfortable, especially after a long, hot Florida summer.

September also marks the start of Florida’s fall snook season. Serious and novice anglers from all corners of the Sunshine State are drawn to this annual event. These fisherfolk often prepare for days and even weeks, readying their tackle, lures and baits and getting set to fulfill their snook-filled dreams

Most of Florida’s east coast snook have spent their last couple of months spawning in or near Atlantic Ocean inlets. They’re now through with their procreation responsibilities. Winter is on its way, and with annual high water levels here, the fish are ready to feed. There’s really no better time of year to target snook than now, when all the right factors start lining up.

Because of a complex combination of tropical rainfall, the rotation of the Earth’s tilt, the lessening of the Gulf Stream’s influence on coastal currents, plus the arrival of fall’s easterly winds and swells, Florida’s east coast experiences the beginning of its high-water season by early September.

The Indian River Lagoon estuary system and points north and south become full of water pushing up and over spartina shorelines, mangrove forests, oyster beds and barrier island flats, thus soaking areas that haven’t seen water since the previous fall.

This drenching sprawl pulls baitfish out and away from the protection of cover and leaves them unprotected from the hungry linesiders’ calculated attacks. Snook are known to use the advantage of high water to pursuit their food. They sit and wait at the edge of flowing water, watching until the next helpless baitfish gets pulled by. Then Pow!, they launch a quick, decisive attack to grab an easy meal.

By early fall, the annual run of mullet shows up on our east coast shores. Billions of these finger-sized baitfish arrive in steady flows along our beaches and lagoon shorelines.

Snook take full benefit of this migration, foraging on the schools of minnows as rough weather and seas push, pull and throw the mullet into a panic.

September is definitely the prized time of year when you are most likely to see a snook explode though the middle of a school of confused mullet trying to push though breaking waves along one of our coastal inlets, leaving the school of bait in disarray. Seeing this type of action gives an angler the extra edge needed to bag one of these feeding fish.

Many fishermen ascribe to the theory that if you can see a fish feeding, all you have to do is toss a bait in front of it. With snook, however, this can be a difficult task at times. Probably because snook have such keen senses, they almost seem to be smart. In fact, their ability to refuse an angler’s well-presented bait, lure or jig under what seem to be perfect conditions only adds to their allure as a very sought-after game fish.