I’VE ACCEPTED THE FACT that I may never catch a giant trevally. I’d love to, of course, but I’m a realist. It’s unlikely that some tackle company or lodge will offer me an all-expenses-paid trip to Vanuatu, and when you write about fish for a living, you can barely afford a reel that would stand up to a G.T., let alone the flights, lodging and charter fees to hunt them off some remote atoll for a week.
I’m not exactly heartbroken; if I really need a fix, I’ll just go after American giant trevallies. Never heard of those? Sure you have. They’re called jack crevalle, and while a lot of people would sacrifice a limb to fly
