Reefline wahoo comes aboard.

When quizzed on the subject, only a handful of Florida anglers would rank wahoo as their favorite fish. But when a fisherman catches a nice 'hoo, the fish leaps to the top of the favorite list. Why the sudden change of heart? For starters, wahoo are among the best eating fish in the ocean, commanding a culinary respect that far exceeds that of their close cousin, the humble kingfish. And who would argue that a big wahoo's drag-sizzling first run shames all others except possibly a blue marlin or yellowfin tuna? Plus, wahoo are pretty cool to look at.

The first time I saw a wahoo up close was on a trip some years ago to the Florida Keys. It was a rainy, nasty afternoon, and when the mate flipped the 15-pounder over the transom, I marveled at the fish's vibrant, iridescent, blue bands. They reminded me of the deepest shades of the Gulf Stream.

I have since learned that nature engineered those colors for a purpose, as wahoo rely on their distinctive pattern to hide in the shimmering depths. Equipped with keen eyesight and teeth made for killing, they frequently ambush prey by vaulting for the surface as if launched from a submarine. Surprise is the trademark of this pelagic assassin.

But when it comes to public opinion polls, sadly, that unpredictability is in fact the predicament of the wahoo. The species has long been the incidental favorite of the offshore fisherman, but seldom the chief target.

A fisherman in Miami, for example, knows that sailfish bite in April when the wind is out of the east and the current is heading north. During the same month, that same angler can just about bet on a dolphin school zipping along beneath a frigatebird offshore. But wahoo? When, really, can you plan on catching a wahoo?

For years we've relied on a deep line in the trolling spread, for instance a planer and spoon, a ballyhoo and weighted trolling feather, or a diving plug. A deep bait for wahoo. That's been the extent of our thinking.

But it has only been within the past decade or so that anglers have really started to pattern Florida's wahoo fishery, putting together the whole picture from seasons to depths to baits and tactics. Much of what we've discovered is, well, surprising, which seems appropriate considering the reputation of this fish.

Discovery Number One: Wahoo are far more structure-oriented than you may realize, especially with regard to big fish. The rocky perimeter of the continental shelf off northeast Florida is a prime example.

"If I just want to catch wahoo, I'm not gonna leave the edge of the shelf to venture out into the blue water," said Capt. Robert Johnson of St. Augustine. "Even if there's a pretty rip outside, we catch a lot more on the Ledge."

Johnson was describing the late winter/early spring wahoo fishery that's been booming in recent years along his home coast. The February through April invasion of toothy critters makes for a welcome bonus to the charter business aboard the 41-foot Jodie Lynn, especially given the fact that the size of the fish rivals that of world-renowned fisheries in the Bahamas and Bermuda.

"They average 35 to 60 pounds in winter," Johnson said of the Ledge 'hoos, "and every year boats get some 80- and 90-pound fish up here." The numbers can be impressive, too.

"Last year, we had three days in a row that we caught 12 fish. They were a bit smaller; it seems you lose the size when you gain the numbers."

The Ledge Johnson refers to is a sharp, 20- to 30-foot dip in the seafloor some 50 miles offshore. This is the kind of structure that attracts forage fish, and thus larger species such as wahoo. The top of the Ledge is about 170 feet deep, the bottom just over 200.

Plugs are easy to fish, and highly effective.

"My theory is that the fish are here all the time, but as the inshore waters cool, they get bunched up," he said. "Some days this time of year you don't find 70-degree water until you get 48 miles offshore."

Johnson, like many skippers in his neighborhood, targets a variety of species in a day's fishing, and thus offers a mixed spread of baits and lures. He said his favorite wahoo combo would have to be a blue-and-white Ilander lure rigged in front of a horse ballyhoo, and taken deep on a No. 3 planer. Or maybe a silver Drone spoon behind a No. 5 planer. Or a swimming mullet down deep. But he's caught 'em on surface baits. Even had wahoo strike cedar plugs aimed at tunas.

In other words, the concept of fishing the structure, maintaining that zigzag trolling pattern over the top of the Ledge, takes precedence over tackle.

"My favorite sea conditions? Flat calm," he said, laughing. "They don't seem to care. I've caught 'em when it's northwest at 20, southwest at 20, and when there's not a breath of wind."

The structure component figures into other wahoo fisheries, as well. South Florida livebait fishermen chasing sailfish and kingfish catch a surprising number of wahoo-and of sometimes surprising sizes-over artificial reefs and wrecks in a hundred-plus feet of water within a few miles of the coast. And far out in the Gulf of Mexico, many miles west of Key West, anglers have reported seeing pods of the speedy fish stacked motionless as cordwood over deepwater rockpiles.

Discovery Number Two: Depth of presentation is not necessarily the key to catching wahoo. Far more important, it seems, is speed.

For many anglers, this one comes as a real surprise, contradicting numerous other "discoveries" we've made over the years. First, a brief history lesson.

Anglers have long experimented with tackle designed to take trolling baits deeper, where wahoo are believed to feed. Downriggers are popular among light-tackle fishermen, as the device operates with a release clip that frees the fishing line after a strike, allowing the fish to be fought unencumbered by additional weight.

Another popular device, the release planer, operates like an airplane wing, diving as it moves forward. The simplest way to rig the planer or its modern cousin, the Z-wing, is on a tether of 300- or 400-pound-test monofilament. You allow the planer to dive in the wake, then secure the line to a transom cleat. How do you get your fishing line down there? Easy. Affix a double-snap (available at tackle shops, as are complete rigging kits for the planers) to the heavy mono, pay out your fishing line behind the boat, wrap a rubber band several times around the fishing line, loop the rubber band to the second snap, pay out more line, and watch what happens. Like magic, your line disappears in the wake. Let out enough to get down the planer cord. When the wahoo takes your ballyhoo or strip bait, the rubber band breaks, releasing your line.

Deep-trolling rigs that incorporate a heavy cigar sinker or planer in-line, as part of the fishing line, are traditional charterboat favorites, but the release systems are far more practical for private boats and light-tackle sportfishermen. Wire lines, effective but of questionable sport, also fall into this category.

Finally, no review of deep-trolling tactics would be complete without a mention of the numerous diving plugs on the market. Plugs require no fancy rigging other than a few feet of wire leader to prevent cutoffs, and they're amazingly effective. Lipped models such as the largest members of the Magnum Countdown Rapala family, the MirrOlure 113 series, the Rebel Jawbreaker and the Mann's Stretch lures are terrific wahoo catchers, as are lipless divers like the Boone's Cairns, Yo-Zuri Bonita and Halco Giant Trembler.

Now that you're finished perfecting your deep-trolling tactics, consider the advice of Capt. Ron Schatman of Miami, best known for his contributions to, and victories in, the Bahamas wahoo tournament circuit.