Sailfish can be persnickety, even if numerous examples to the contrary exist. Take the results of a recent billfish tournament, which confirmed that Atlantic sailfish will definitely strike a fly.

When the run's hot, release flags adorn 'riggers from Palm Beach to Fort Pierce.

On November 21, Billy Pate of Islamorada took first place in the Fort Lauderdale Billfish Tournament’s first-ever Flyfishing Divison. Pate fished with Capt. Bud Gramer, a Guatemala veteran. The crew used an unhooked teaser to lure the fish within casting range. While anglers don’t normally use dead baits where fish are concentrated by depth or other factors, the method remains a valid alternative wherever there’s no well-defined “edge.”

By edge, I’m referring to the 120-foot curve that defines the dropoff beyond most Florida reefs. In a lesser sense, the term can also apply to water color changes, which can indicate a change in water temperature. The difference of a single degree can determine the presence of fish, but in any case, edges concentrate baitfish or provide a pathway for fish to follow. Locate an edge and you’ll likely find fish.

At its best, sailfishing is heady stuff. Perhaps nothing captures the romance better than the dead-bait tournaments of old. Events like the Masters and Gold Cup epitomize competitive sportfishing. It’s true that in the minds of many, nothing will ever compare to the Masters—particularly in the days when it was held at the Sailfish Club in Palm Beach.

In its heyday, the Masters attracted a crowd of pedigreed anglers. Tackle entrepreneur Scott Boyd worked the tournament circuit during the 1960s as a mate. I sat back and listened while he reminisced:

I could practically see the Sailfish Club dock, with its rows of Rybovitches all polished and waiting. At the same time, I visualized the Fin-Nor reels and custom rods while I heard release flags flapping in the January breeze. I can only imagine the hum of conversation, along with the tinkle of glasses, at the club bar. Ditto for Scott, who was busy rigging baits for the next day’s competition. It was a rich man’s game. However, there were certain consolations. Scott laughed while continuing:

“A guy I knew named Dave Riley won the Masters with a pair of black 4/0s. I doubt if the officials ever recovered. The tournament offered no cash prizes—only the recognition of being judged the best of the best.” Looking back, it’s evident that the Masters belongs to an era when idealism outranked monetary reward. I might add that in this particular event, the object was to release as many sails as possible while fishing dead baits and 20-pound line from a dead boat. Anglers were also fishing against the clock, which meant that skill played a major role.

A hooked fish was initially worth 100 points. After that, points were deducted at the rate of five per minute. After 20 minutes, a fish was worthless, but breakoffs resulted in a penalty. While timed events may have separated the men from the boys (women weren’t allowed to enter), they could have led to the infamous Palm Beach release.

In case you’re wondering, that’s where an overzealous mate grabs the leader and deliberately breaks it, rather than attempting to clip it or unhook a struggling fish. As a result of this traumatic maneuver, the surface was littered with dozens of dead fish following quick-catch events. Thankfully, times have changed.

Bridled google-eye ready for kite deployment.

There’s no question that the most effective way to raise a sailfish is with live bait. Whether slow-trolled or dangled from a kite, pilchards, goggle-eyes, thread herring and others are irresisitable to sails. When I first ventured offshore, kites were in their infancy, so I was forced to master the finer points of slow-trolling. It amounted to a course in Sailfish 101.

The first lesson involved getting bait. In the days before kites, I needed something that sailfish relished, yet I had to be able to catch it within running distance of where I intended to fish.

At the time, I owned a 16-foot tri-hull that my friends derisively referred to as “The Plow.” Since getting around in heavy seas was a mission unto itself, I had no interest in making the long run from the shore with a livewell full of pilchards. Ironically, it was Scott Boyd who pointed me in the right direction:

“Let’s rig up a handline. We can use it to catch live bonito.”

I watched him work. After all, a little professional help never hurt anyone. I soon discovered that there’s no better sailfish bait than a small live bonito, considering how they can be trolled faster than other baits and seldom get a refusal. Incidentally, I enjoyed an initial several month period of hooking at least one sail every time I fished.