Like most die-hard fishermen, I grew up watching fishing shows. At the time, these shows were pretty limited. I enjoyed watching Bill Dance and a few others, but they were mainly freshwater bass shows with little to no concern for production value. Technology hadn't caught up with fishing shows yet, and the content of the shows was always so "old school" and formulaic.

In 2005, this aspiring producer who dreamed of making fishing shows that were exciting, as well as entertaining, has seen a whole new breed of angling entertainment flood the air waves. Without disrespect to Bill and the others—after all, they were pioneers in their field—today's shows are anything but basic. With shows on every subject from fresh to saltwater, big game to brook trout, there's a fishing show out there for every fisherman.

Technology and programming have made leaps and bounds of gigantic proportions and along with the hundreds of shows available, there are entire channels devoted to outdoor programming. After finishing college and determining I wanted to produce fishing shows, I had the very specific goal of wanting to provide the marine industry with the same high quality production values that were being given to other industries. I was determined to take what some people viewed as a boring, ordinary sport and add a "new school" approach to the production. Fast cuts, creative angles, and high-energy music are exactly what this industry needed. I know that by the time I entered production work, my ideas weren't entirely original; the emphasis on production value has come to the forefront and shows like Shaw Grisby's One More Cast, Off Shore Adventures, and a slew of others really raised the production bar. Even tournament coverage like Bassmaster's took it to another level. In fishing, even good fishing, there's bound to be a lot of waiting. The right editing, music and graphics, are what make fishing TV-friendly.

During my previous employment at a production company, which catered to state government along with local and regional clients, a call came in from a man named Joe Mercurio. He wanted to produce seven, one-hour television shows based on a fishing tournament series in Florida's Boca Grande Pass. As he talked about the world-class tarpon fishing that happened in the Pass each May through June, my excitement grew. He paused and asked if I'd ever heard of or seen the action that had been going on there for decades. Of course I answered yes. Being an avid fisherman and compulsive recorder of every fishing show on TV in the name of "research" (at least I always tell my wife it's research, not sure she's bought into it yet). I knew enough about the fishing in the Boca Grand Pass to realize this was going to my dream project. But, it would also turn out to be the toughest production I had ever done. In the initial meetings, we began ironing out details. It would involve four cameras, each on their own boat, along with a live commentator detailing the action as it happened. Live.

"Who's the host?" I asked.

"I am," Joe announced.

There was shocked silence. "Have you ever been on camera before?"

"No," he answered, "but I've done radio."

Some worries set in. I had a 22-year-old host with no camera experience who wanted to create a show that rivaled anything else on television and I wasn't sure it could be done. I told my crew I wasn't even sure we could fill a show longer than a half-hour and when we found out how tight the production schedule was, it seemed impossible. We had three weeks to turn the tournament footage into a television-ready show. It seemed like a logistical nightmare for a staff of one producer, two editors, and four photographers. I realized I was going to have to eat, sleep, and breathe the Professional Tarpon Tournament Series for the next 10 weeks. I was nervous about persuading my wife, who'd just had our first child, of my need to disappear from the routine of our life for that long. But my wife simply said, "This is your dream. Just make it great."

Because of the migratory patterns of the tarpon, they usually appeared in the pass in the first week of May. Usually. We waited until then to head down to capture some footage for the opening of the show. Having heard all the stories of the "orchestrated chaos" involving these silver kings and the hundreds of boats trying to land them, I began to expect the unexpected. The organizers of the tournament described their vision for the show to be like "NASCAR meets Monday Night Football." They wanted chills and thrills and it was an ambitious vision for a show on fishing.

Our base was located at the beautiful Palm Island Resort and we conducted our initial meetings with a breathtaking view of the Gulf of Mexico. We assembled a mobile production station and set up a brutal schedule of interviews and shoots, as well as guided fishing trips with the best area guides in search of tarpon. Most of these guides fished the tournament as well, so we knew they were experts. As we boarded the boat with our first guide, Capt. Jeff Hagaman, it became obvious that this was a top-notch tournament series and that these guys meant business. Capt. Jeff motored up to the dock in a 22-ft. Century bay boat with a graphic wrap that rivaled any bass boat on the water. I'd learned earlier from Joe that Century Boats of Panama City had signed on as the tournament's title sponsor and was offering an unprecedented six boats as prizes. They were also sponsoring four teams in the tournament.

As we headed out with Capt. Jeff, he told me we might have a slight problem. He said the tarpon had not shown up yet, that there were no tarpon in the pass. I thought at first it was a joke—how could you have a tarpon tournament without the tarpon? But after several days of searching the waters with the best guides in the area, we still had no footage of tarpon. Slowly, we began to panic. We were just days away from the first tournament and the tarpon fishing capital of the world had no tarpon. Joe and the other tournament officials were faced with difficult decisions and after days spent contemplating the situation they decided they had to move forward with the tournament and pray the silver kings would arrive on time. Everyone involved stayed positive and the sponsors agreed to give away a boat even if no one caught a tarpon and they would have to have a blind draw. I was glad to see everyone was optimistic, but as the show's producer I was petrified. I wasn't sure how to produce a show on tarpon without the main attraction.

Even under the best conditions, this tournament was unique. The challenge was not about finding the fish. When they appeared in the Pass, they were simply there. The real challenge was to land the powerful fish before it broke off or was eaten by sharks. (More on the sharks later.) The first tournament weekend was everything Joe promised. The Pass was full of teams, from corporately-sponsored boats to weekend anglers. We began rolling and Joe did a three minute long, off-the-cuff commentary that made my jaw drop—suddenly I had one less thing to worry about. Unfortunately, it's impossible to catch tarpon when none are present, and no one weighed in a fish that weekend. Staying true to their commitment, the tournament staff still gave away a boat through a blind draw. The next weekend, rumors were floating around that a few tarpon had appeared. During the last ten minutes of the tournament, a tarpon was hooked and the team was able touch the leader before losing it. The leader touch gave them points and because no one else had even hooked a tarpon that day, the team won the tournament and took second and third place as well. By this time, the production of the first show was complete and somehow we managed to fill the hour with something other than tarpon.

The captains fishing the tournament kept saying the same thing: Just wait, they assured me, when they get here, it'll be the most amazing thing you've ever seen. Well, when we arrived for the third tournament, so did the tarpon. The reports rolling in estimated the numbers to be a hundred thousand or more. I was still a little skeptical, but after two weekends of practice, I was confident we could handle anything. The tournament began with frantic radio calls of "Fish on!" With ten to twenty hookups, and only four cameras, I quickly realized I had to make instant decisions and stick to them. If a camera started with a team, they had to follow it from start to finish. If they switched to cover a new team, it would be a nightmare to try and sync up later in the editing. With bumper-to-bumper boats and huge fish everywhere, the earlier comparison to NASCAR suddenly made sense. Joe was rattling off commentary so fast that my cameraman was having trouble keeping up. Between the non-stop commentary, hundreds of rolling tarpon and constant hook-ups, I found myself almost dancing with excitement.

With ten minutes left in the tournament, one of the teams had what they believed to be a 160+ pound tarpon on. If they could land it, and get it to the weigh scales it would put them in first place. I radioed for the camera boats to all move in on this one team, and right as they got into position and started rolling, the unthinkable happened. The team started yelling, "It's coming up, it's about to jump!" With our boat pointed right at the other team, and a tarpon ready to leap towards us, I knew we had the money shot. As the fish skyrocketed out of the water, a huge hammerhead shark followed it up and took a mid-air bite out of the winning fish. The shark was every bit of 18 feet and its teeth were latched on to the tarpon. Everything went into slow motion. I looked down at my legs and noted my knees were shaking. In a daze, I realized I had three cameras rolling from almost every angle, all focused on this shot. That moment made up for the slow starts and the doubts—I suddenly realized this was precisely what had been promised.

The rest of the tournaments proved to be as action packed as that one and we had some unbelievable moments, all captured for television. We had over six shark encounters, and at the beginning of one tournament we had twenty or so hookups in the first three minutes. My fears of not having enough footage vanished. Although the Professional Tarpon Tournament Series proved to be the toughest thing I had ever produced, it was also the most exciting thing I had ever witnessed. Joe Mercurio, the organizers, and the fishermen were the most dedicated and professional group I had ever worked with. The sponsors and my production crew were treated with the utmost respect and professionalism, despite the slow start.

This year, the organizers assure me, will be even better than last year. Among other improvements, they have moved the first tournament back a few weeks to ensure the silver kings will be there in full force. They've also brought on Nextel as the headlining sponsor, and Century boats is on board again, so with that combination the 2005 Series is sure to be a success. I can say with confidence that NASCAR and Monday Night Football can't touch the excitement of the Professional Tarpon Tournament Series. There is nothing in the world like being perched on the bow of a boat watching a shark devour a 150-pound fish in mid-air, while the surface around you erupts with more than thirty boats hooked up with leaping, thrashing giants. You have to see it to believe it—fishing shows will never be the same.