The trips to Atlantic Beach started at 6 a.m., just before the sun rose over the northeastern part of North Carolina.
Brandon Ingram would sleepily get into his grandmother's car, study the tree-lined flat lands on Highway 70 and arrive at the pier to start catching whatever saltwater fish found the bait attractive. They'd eagerly pull up spots and mullets and occasionally small sharks that would be released faster than you could say the name of the local watering hole, the aptly named Tackle Box Tavern.
The spots were a particularly good treat. They were only about as big as a person's hand, not large enough to be filleted, but easily dipped in batter and pan-fried with the head chopped off and tail still intact.