s we approached the rip line that signaled a temperature break, Capt. Jon Duffie pointed out the birds working along the edge and the marks on his depth finder. The large bait pod was clear enough, but then arches started to appear 75 to 100 feet down. “White marlin,” Duffie warned. “We’re gonna hook up.” He had barely yelled a warning to the cockpit when the port rigger went off and the water erupted under the frenzied jump of our first marlin of the morning. He slowly turned to keep the fish inside a wide circle, then the starboard flat line went off and another marlin skyrocketed, tail-walking away from the boat. More whites started popping up behind the daisy chains and dredges, and the cockpit buzzed. Anglers grabbed pitch-bait rods and free-spooled ballyhoo to individual fish. In almost no time had we five on, and everyone was moving, ducking under bent rods to keep from tangling. When you get one marlin on, it’s crazy, but multiply it by three or four, and it is sheer pandemonium. This scene repeats every summer in the mid-Atlantic states, and with a modest-size boat, some knowledge and preparation, you can get in on the action.