To be honest, I thought we were heading out to fish for the much smaller yellowfin tuna. That assumption was a mistake—but one I’ll always treasure. You know, the kind of mistake you tell your grandkids about, or anyone willing to listen: neighbors, people at church, even the stranger in front of you in the McDonald’s drive- through. Sure, I got my share of eye rolls, but people were impressed once they heard the story. Speaking of the story, let’s get back to it. After a two-hour ride up the North Carolina coast, the boat engines slowed to a crawl. The other anglers emerged from the cabin, rubbing their eyes, ready to set up gear. They began putting out lines, and I waited expectantly for yellowfins to bite and run. Instead, we caught menhaden—and plenty of them. Oily and pungent, these fish weren’t thrown back but rather tossed into the live well. I didn’t get it—at least not until one of the crew started pulling out massive sportfishing rods from the cabin and rigging them with the menhaden. When these rigs went out behind the boat, I was still scratching my head. But then, one of the enormous reels began screaming, and everything changed. One of the crew grabbed me, shoved me into the boat’s fighting chair, stuck the rod between my legs, and yelled, “CRANK!” So I cranked.
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