When the finger mullet show up, you know it’s time to hit the water. Watch as I head offshore alone, loading up on bait and chasing hard-hitting predators for an unforgettable day on the ocean.

The splash was as big as a trawler yacht. The mullet sailed five feet through the air. The small baitfish had to make a choice: fly or become lunch. A 100-pound tarpon was in hot pursuit. It wheeled ...

More years ago than I care to admit, I sat in what Jacksonville University now calls “Historic Swisher Gymnasium” and listened to Harry Chapin sing to what he then referred to as the “cheap seats.” ...