Numbers are the basis of fishing, but at the end of the day, the results are up to you.
“Left teaser! Left teaser!”

It’s the moment every offshore angler lives for. The faint abnormal streak of electric blue deep below the spread. Before the mind registers what’s happening, the fish is zipping the left squid chain. Instinctively, the angler grabs the left flat and dumps the ballyhoo. He yells, “I don’t see him!” Then, it happens. Fully out of the water, from inside-out, the fish eats.

One, one-thousand, two, one-thousand, three, one-thousand. The rod bends over, the fish greyhounds away.

These moments tend to move in slow-motion, and nothing else matters at the time. However, just to be in position where that can happen, is a massive undertaking. Hundreds of ballyhoo. Miles of line spooled on reels. Fuel to get there. Hours of time spent studying the water. Time. These things allow us the opportunity. The dedication is not for the faint-of-heart. But, for the lucky ones who know—the reward of hanging a rigger full of release flags is unmatched.
People dedicate their lives to chasing billfish. Mid-Atlantic, Isla Mujeres, Costa Rica, the Bahamas, and abroad, we follow the fish as they migrate. Serious teams dedicate time—but it’s so much more. Figure a full year of fishing all over world: roughly 200 days on the water. With a crew of four, who averages 14-hours per day that’s 11,200 man hours per-year. Add 9,600 ballyhoo and nearly 37 miles of line. Add 100,000 gallons of fuel to run 50,000 miles.

These numbers are the foundation of fishing. But, at the end of the day, you have to be there to catch them. To some, we appear crazy. We’ve lost our minds, maybe. But it’s not a decision we make. It’s something inside of us. The passion, the drive, the unwillingness to stop chasing. There’s salt in our blood.