This book does a marvelous job of capturing the authentic weirdness of Martha's Vineyard, as manifested playfully in the fishing culture. In many ways it says: So, you took a ferryboat to Oak Bluffs on a Saturday morning, rented a mo-ped, drove all 26 miles, and now you know the island? Pal, you don't know the island.
But statements like that, anymore, are cliches too. This is a place, after all, where, about 25 years ago, folks began driving round with bumper stickers displaying the lovely litotes: "Drive Slow: You're not off-island anymore!"
The fishing parts are sort of scattered about and almost relentless. At some point, about halfway through, you become hopeful that the book was written in a way to make you empathize with a derby participant, and maybe it was originally. It's too short, though, to pull that off - and a number of stories could have been better reported, even with the author's oft-restated assertion that most fish stories are not true.
Still, if you've ever fished the derby, reading this will bring back much of the thrill; just the names of the beaches themselves'll do it.