I have so many memories from my decades of operating a charterboat, and I love sharing those wild tales. Here is one.

After buying a couple of scoops of live bait from the bait receiver near the harbor entrance, we jigged up a few lively mackerel just past the end of Stearns Wharf. Sharks love those tasty macks, and we were shark fishing today.

With plenty of live bait in the bait tank, we cranked up my big outboards and raced down-coast to drift inside the area we call the Armpit (lovely name, right?).

I had seen some thresher sharks and baitballs in the area recently, and knew we had a good chance.

My charter group wanted a thresher shark to feed a large party that night. After a couple of hours of soaking baits, my passengers seemed to be losing confidence.

Being a charter captain, I know how much patience plays a part when hunting big game of almost any kind.

I gave them words of encouragement, while I kept chumming anchovies and soaking a live mackerel on a heavy rig with 100-pound braided line, steel leader and a very large hook.

We waited.

I spotted it first … the phantom shape of a shark gliding under the boat. Moving fast, I tried baiting it with mackerel, then anchovies and sardines.

That shark definitely seemed interested but wouldn’t commit (undoubtedly a male shark).

When I gang-hooked three sardines on the big hook, the sharkster inhaled the offering, telling me it had been feeding on sardines recently.

This was a big thresher, better than 200 pounds. I spun down the drag to the right setting and swung hard enough to lift a tree stump out of the ground.

The shark didn’t budge.

I handed the rod to the charter master, grinned at him and said, “Hold on, things are about to get interesting!”

On queue, the thresher bolted — like a freaked out bullet train — about 75 yards while the reel’s drag screamed in protest like a B horror movie actor.

The angler stood in wide-eyed astonishment, hanging on for dear life while I held the back of his belt loop to keep him onboard.

Then the shark went air born repeatedly, jumping and splashing, putting on a truly magnificent show of anger and frustration.

Each angler took turns pulling on that powerful beast, and the fight lasted well over an hour. With the shark alongside and all worn out, it was time to bring it aboard.

That part is the most dangerous moment of all, and before it was over Capt. Tiffany (my crew member) and I were on top of the shark, trying to keep everyone and the boat safe.

I heard later that it provided a magnificent feast for the large group of family and friends. I wouldn’t have minded a piece of that delicious shark myself.