Capt. Ted Lund knew he had accomplished stage one of his master plan, so he instructed his girlfriend Juliana Kuhnke to pull back on the freebies. “Just throw one at a time every few seconds and that will hold them behind the boat.”

“Them” referred Scomberomerus cavalla – king mackerel. One of the sea’s fastest and most aggressive predators, kingfish can catch just about anything they want to eat. However, as the consummate opportunist, this toothy dude likes nothing better than a vulnerable meal.

Banking on this, Lund set up shop over a break in about 80 feet, southwest of Key West. A routine that will bear similar results throughout the king’s Gulf range, the strategy started with a frozen chum block – the standard appetizer that stimulates a king’s nose more than its mouth. After about five minutes of watching the melting block disseminate its odoriferous bits and enticing oils, Lund threw out a dozen live sardines and asked Julie to continue the chumming.

Within 15 minutes of our anchor set, king mackerel to 30 pounds were skyrocketing on the confused sardines – often so close they literally splashed water on the transom. Capt. Robert “R.T.” Trossett was anchored about 50 yards off our port side, and with both boats chumming the site, it looked like a July Fourth fireworks show.

Now, such spectacles are certainly entertaining, but the bottom line objective is catching fish. The chum job benefits the mission by getting the kings so fired up that they’ll attack anything that appears edible. Internal motivation is always there, but feeding competition fans the flames. Consider this: At the peak of a kingfish chum rally, when multiple fish are skyrocketing at once, you’re only seeing a small fraction of the school swirling below.

That means any kingfish that spots a meal will hit the jets and blast forward without hesitation. Delaying even a second gives a competitor time to move in for the steal. For anglers, such feeding frenzies yield fast action and loads of entertainment.

Once Lund got the kings fired up, hooking live sardines on wire rigs and slinging them off the transom yielded instant hookups. Lund hooked his baits in the back so they swam downward – into the danger zone. Medium-heavy to heavy-action spinning outfits like Lund’s Fin-Nor Ahab are ideal for this game.

Chris Strickland was visiting from Oklahoma, so the kingfish craziness was quite a thrill. Lund put him on the artificials and advised him to steady his nerves for some off-the-chart aggression. The kings did not disappoint, as several close boils and a near-miss rocket launch bespoke the mounting intensity. Then, at the end of what seemed to be an unnoticed presentation, Strickland was literally about to pick up the Sebile Magic Swimmer for another shot when the water erupted not even a rod length off the transom with a hell-bent silver missile carrying the lure 10 feet into the air.

Someone screamed like a little girl and I think it might have been me. Nevertheless, this fish was a solid 30 and miraculously the big king hit the lure dead center on the front section ahead of the first treble hook. Not to worry, though, when the kings get this fired up, second chances are a foregone conclusion. Sure enough, Stickland needed only three more casts to tempt another king, and this one got the point, so to speak.

With the action peaking, Lund decided it was time for the skinny stick. Armed with a 10-weight Temple Fork fly rod, a Van Staal reel and a sardine fly with a wire leader, he made three presentations into the hot zone and came tight with a nice 20-pounder.

As the kings move northward on the annual migration, this scenario will replicate hundreds of times throughout the Gulf. Slow-trolling jumbo live baits is the way to go for that one big tournament-winner, but if you want a day of non-stop action with spunky kings, drop the hook, spread the chummers and go to work.