Saltwater anglers in the Keys often swap fish tales, but sometimes their “true” storylines seemingly get tangled in their fishing “lines.” Unflinching humorist Nick Aldacosta, for decades a Marathon fishing captain, has spun thousands of those tales and cast miles of line.

Nick Aldacosta's grin can't hide his wicked sense of humor or world-class storytelling skill.

“That reminds me of a story,” he’ll say with a disarming grin. No matter how outrageous or embellished the details, his tales are indeed true and his listeners are drawn to the punch line like a billfish to bait.

Nick’s own life story is equally engaging, spun from his early years on shrimp boats, docksides and charter vessels. Born in Fort Myers, Fla., he’s been a Marathon resident since he was just a year old.

His father was a shrimp fisherman, and at age 3 Nick started learning the ways of the water.

As a small boy he “caught” his first fish, a mangrove snapper.

“My dad tied a fishing line around my waist and told me, ‘When something pulls on the line, run.’ Well, that fish nearly pulled me off the table on the shore, so I took off running, pulling that fish right outta’ the water,” Nick said with a laugh. “I must have run 15 or 20 miles, that fish trailin’ behind me.”

At age 13, Nick was rigging baits, shaking weeds off fishermen’s lines and selling live mullet for $5 a dozen out of his mother’s Falcon station wagon, running between the Seven Mile Bridge and Bahia Honda. By the time he was 21, he owned Nick’s Sporting Goods.

A younger Nick Aldacosta (seated), circa 1980s, and a small fishing buddy admire their catch after a day on the water.

Though his descriptions of his on-the-water activities during the Keys’ no-holds-barred 1970s fall somewhere between shady and chivalrous, during that time Nick’s charter fishing business aboard Nautical Wheeler came to fruition.

His fishing pals were raucous, rich and famous. They included actor Lee Marvin and sportfishing legend Ron Hamlin, who authored “Tournament,” a fictional angling tale whose character Wink Andros bears an uncanny resemblance to Nick Aldacosta.

Nick’s wife Annette Walsh, who with him owns and operates Annette’s Lobster & Steak House in Marathon, caught his fishing fever and achieved an elusive grand slam shortly after they were married.

“We’d only gone out for the morning in a 14-foot skiff,” NIck said. “We had crackers on the boat, and that’s it.”

The “morning” evolved into a compelling 13-hour episode of fishing. Without fuel, bait or appropriate rods for what lay ahead — a grand slam needs to be completed on the same boat, within 24 hours — they borrowed mullet and tarpon rods from fisherman friends.

Nick siphoned needed gas from his “mullet wagon,” an indescribably ugly convertible with a plywood bait box in place of the trunk. (Nick freely admits that, on a particularly rum-soaked night when the car was still reasonably intact, he left a customer’s tarpon in the trunk. When its scales fell off and the stink grew unbearable, he simply cut off the car’s back end.)

Nick and his wife, Annette Walsh, stand flanked by the grand slam tarpon, permit and bonefish that, along with pictures of Captain Nick's angling days, grace the walls of their restaurant.

After Annette landed the necessary permit and bonefish, the duo targeted tarpon, the final fish in the coveted grand slam.

“She hooked a 150-pound tarpon and fought it an hour and a half, until releasing it at 8:30 p.m. — the fish were all released,” Nick said.

Replicas of the grand slam fish still hang on the walls of the restaurant.

More than 30 years, three vessels and three mullet wagons later, Nick Aldacosta still loves taking people fishing.

Not long ago, sitting at the edge of the restaurant’s bar where patrons and passersby could hear him spin a yarn, he quipped, “I’m not in the fishin’ business; I’m in the entertainment business. I just fish for fun.”