First real spearfishing trip I ever went on, my buddy kept telling me, "DO NOT shoot a Jack Crevalle." He probably repeated this 20 times from the house, to the ramp, and to the first drop. Little did he know: I had no idea what one looked like.
So we make our first drop, and I'm scared to shoot anything, fearing it was too small. On the way down, I had seen this large, "jackish" fish circling the rig, and while I kept trying to guess the size of the iffy snapper on the bottom, I kept thinking, "I'm shooting that thing if it swims by again." My friend and his wife decided they were done and were surfacing ahead of me. I had forgotten about that big fish... that is until I saw him coming out of the corner of my eye from the right. I lined up where I expected him to be in a second, he swam right to my spot, and I sunk the steel in his head exactly where I wanted.
Pretty proud of myself, I took a moment to admire my work as he kept swimming as if nothing had just happened. It continued this way until the line pulled tight and he knew something was up. He went nuts after that, pulling me in and out of the rig for a while. I finally got him under control, and brought him to the boat where my buddy was screaming, "You dumb *&^#*&^#, I told you a thousand times: DO NOT shoot a Jack Crevalle."
Oh well, I know what they look like now. I still haven't shot anything quite as crazy as that thing either.