Anglers Journal


Ever since I first went to sea with my uncle, Capt. Bill Dunn, I’ve been fascinated with swordfish. On a slick, calm August day in 1981, running out of Shinnecock Inlet on Long Island, my uncle calmly proclaimed, “Swordfish, 1 o’clock.”

We were on the bridge of his 38-foot Scopinich sportfisherman, and he physically guided my head in the direction of the fish, whispering the distance and pointing. He made certain

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