“I’ve seen guys get hooked on this sport in one trip. They caught their first 150 lb tuna, and they were all in, even as far as going to buy a boat,” veteran offshore angler Nick Carro told The Post.

He added that a majority of the people he takes out have no idea how ripe fishing in the North Atlantic actually is, with peak season running from July to November.

“They automatically associate it with southern states,” he explained. “They’re amazed at the size, quality, and quantity that we catch out here and they have no idea that tuna, swordfish and marlin even exist in the Northeast.”

The old salts

Long before tuna fishing became social media fodder, Montauk had already earned its reputation as the sportfishing capital of the Northeast.

For generations, commercial fishermen and charter captains built livelihoods on taking advantage of the East End’s unique aquatic geography.

That history helps explain a reputation outsiders sometimes mistake for elitism.

“Montauk has been one of the oldest fishing communities, and because of that there is that reputation that it’s the elite fishery, full of elite captains,” said Will Cornacchia of the Montauk Anglers Club, a family-owned marina and offshore charter.

“It’s always been a hotspot for fishing. It’s the sportfishing capital of the Northeast.”

Before transitioning full-time to the water, Cornacchia, who’s been fishing since he was six-years-old, worked in finance at Goldman Sachs before a medical cause a shift in priorities and career.

According to him, newcomers often interpret as gatekeeping is rooted in experience.

Although technology has transformed the sport, the best electronics still can’t replace decades spent learning the water. But it does make it more attractive and convenient for high-pressure executives who need to stay connected at all times while offshore.

“You can be the most technologically savvy person there is,” the Montauk resident said. “But without that local knowledge and local know-how, you’re behind the eight ball.”

That old-school mentality still runs deep.

Carro describes Montauk’s longtime captains as “old salts”—fishermen who spent years earning their reputations and weren’t always eager to share hard-won secrets.

“They consider themselves elite,” he said, contrasting that tradition with a younger generation that’s more willing to teach newcomers and grow the sport.

But some hardcore guys are open to the idea of new anglers, especially the tourists who come out, spend thousands of dollars on a charter, and support the local community, despite the changing demographic.

“They’re the ones who support our living; they’re the ones who are booking trips and hiring guides, basically helping people make a living out here,” Cornacchia added, saying that there are differing opinions but that local knowledge and respect for those who have been doing it for generations cannot be replaced.

Despite the social media buzz, million-dollar sportfishing boats and Wall Street newcomers, every fisherman agreed on one thing: once you’re offshore, none of it matters.

One can spend thousands on fuel chasing tuna across the Atlantic, and you can still come home empty-handed.