The sun was almost down when Jack called out. “I’m on,” he said, and I watched him lean back as the fish turned and made its first run.

I clearly remember that moment when my fishing DNA changed forever.

My mind was unconsciously running through the 20 other places I would no doubt have been better off standing.

Who answers the phone at 3:30 a.m., chats amiably, swaps helpful information, wishes the caller good luck but doesn’t go back to sleep humming a lullaby of curses?

A well-traveled photographer is drawn to Piñas Bay, Panama, for its black marlin and other hefty cohorts.

When fishing deep, it’s hard to beat these simple chrome-over-lead bruisers

There’s nothing quite like fishing for striped bass as they dine on spawning cinder worms

The dolphin were running small off southeastern Florida last summer. You learned that if you were in the Gulf Stream fishing sargassum weed lines for Mr. Big, but you also could have found out from a police blotter that the catch was not as hot as the weather.

Former world-class skier Andy Mill chases tarpon with as much fire as he once did Olympic gold