I used to cringe whenever someone bragged about catching smoker kingfish in the 30- to 40-pound class. As I listened to blow by blow descriptions of their conquests, a smile that was only bending the lips concealed the fact that my career king didn't even scale 20 pounds.

Last January off Key Largo, however, all that changed. I was drift fishing with old chum Danny "Whacko" Farr in his 24-footer, and the depthsounder read 127 feet when something grabbed my live pilchard with malicious intent. I gave the rod two firm sets and the fight was on.

Line flew off the reel as if an electric line stripper was attached, and I told Danny we may have to make chase. "What a sissy," he mocked. "I catch 'em all the time on 12-pound. If it's a king, just hold on and he'll end the run. If it's a sailfish, he'll jump any second now. If it's a big wahoo, you're in deep doo-doo."

Moments before I was about to be spooled, the run ended and the fish backtracked toward the boat. "It's a big king for sure," yelled Danny. He fired up the twin engines and moved away from the fish, allowing me to take up line and avoid a huge amount of slack. As I furiously reeled and caught up to the fish, he cut the engines again. I pumped the rod like an oil derrick for nearly 10 minutes, and then my prize was finally boated: a 39-pound, 10-ounce kingfish!

Ah heck, it was close enough to call a 40-pounder back at the dock.

We re-drifted the area where I hooked up and Danny locked combat with another big king that later weighed just under 33 pounds. We went on that day to release three kingfish in the same class, plus four in the 15- to 25-pound range. It was a banner day and put the kibosh on my kingfish inferiority complex.

My previous difficulties with fishing for kingfish may have stemmed from my strict adherence to traditional methods that my father had taught me: Either troll with planers, downriggers, wire line or add sinkers above the leader to get it deep. Although I caught a decent number of fish, none were in the smoker (25 pounds and above) category. Ditto for deep-jigging a ballyhoo near the reef, during which time I was usually pursuing snapper and grouper, and any kingfish encounters were incidental.

In this era, however, I learned that the prevailing technique in the Keys is simpler and more successful: drift with live bait.

Stephen Woodall also likes to kingfish off Key Largo, particularly near the Elbow and Molasses and Pickles reefs. "The trick is getting a good supply of pilchards or finger mullet that are no larger than five inches in length," he said. "You can jig for kings too, but livebait drifting is more effective."

If the wind is from the Atlantic, Woodall starts in about 200 feet of water, which often is close to the edge of the Gulf Stream. "We drift toward the reef to about 120 feet, then go back and re-drift at 200," said Woodall. "If we get into some fish, we'll drift the same area; if not, we move north or south of our previous drift to cover different areas."

Favored conditions are typical of winter months: a north or northeast wind, 3- to 5-foot waves, the air with a bit of a chill. "Smooth, hot days aren't usually good for smoker kingfish," Woodall remarked.

His tackle setup usually entails 20-pound spin rigs with six feet of 40-pound monofilament leader. A No. 10 ball bearing swivel connect the leader to a small piece of No. 4 wire. He then ties the wire to a No. 1 treble hook. If there is current to contend with, a 1- or 2-ounce barrel sinker is added atop the leader to get the bait deep.

Kingfish aren't the only customers while livebaiting. Janey Franklin nailed this huge cero mackerel drifting a cigar minnow.

Woodall takes one of the barbs on the treble and hooks it from under the chin and out the top lip of the bait. There is no second "stinger" hook used. "Since you're drifting, you don't get short strikes like you do when trolling," advised Woodall. "Kings hit small live baits with a vengeance. No dropback is necessary and you don't have to set up hard--the kings usually hook themselves because they attack the bait, take it in the mouth and then run."

Most of the time, Woodall likes baits to be fished 60 to 80 feet deep and watches the depthsounder to spot fish. He sets the rods in the holders, and when a king slams it, all that's necessary is to pick up the rod and fight.

It's a system that lets even novices have a crack at smoker kings. "Why get fancy with downriggers or planers when you don't have to?" Woodall asked rhetorically. "This way it's fun, not work."