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Nearly seven decades ago, a little boy with a fishing rod excitedly trotted behind his grandma as the sun broke free of the horizon in North Carolina. Together they walked the length of the pier, eventually settling into familiar spots along the railing. They had been there the day before, catching flounder from sunrise to sunset. As the boy waited for his first bite, he looked to the sweeping sea, and a wrenching hunger suddenly stirred within him.
“Grandma?” he said.
“Yes, Rombo?” she replied.
“If I ever figure out how to get in that ocean, I’m going to catch some big fish.”
It would be a long time before I’d meet the Southern man, with gray hair, an inviting smile and a gravelly voice, who was once that eager little boy. He’s now one of the most respected charter captains in the business.
When our paths finally crossed about 10 years ago, I found a fast friend in Capt. Rom Whitaker. He’s good at that—making and keeping friends. Meet him once and it’s like he’s known you a lifetime.
With a charter career that has spanned 40 years along the wind-battered shores of Hatteras Village, where he’s typically booked 200 days per year, Whitaker has certainly lived up to the promises he made to his grandma.
At the Start
Whitaker, now 73 years old, didn’t start his charter career until later in life. He didn’t grow up on the coast, save a few trips per year to his family’s cottage in Atlantic Beach. Nor did he have parents who were avid watermen themselves.
Whitaker grew up in Kinston, North Carolina, where his mother worked in a tobacco warehouse and his father was a longtime employee at DuPont. After attending East Carolina University, he applied his business degree to corporate positions in Kinston and Greenville, including a job at a sporting goods store, where he built relationships with several tackle sales reps, and a management position at the Coca-Cola plant. He was young and a corporate success. And yet, it wasn’t enough.
Whitaker and his friends fished aboard center-consoles on the weekends, routinely trailering boats to Hatteras. Although those trips scratched an itch, it would take the gumption of a sweet and striking woman to get him on course to become one of Hatteras’ most renowned captains.
“I met Elaine in a bar,” Whitaker says. “She was so friendly to everyone, and we got to talking. I took her out on a real date, and 40 some years later, here we are.”
When Whitaker and Elaine—an impossibly charming woman who goes by “Shugg” (short for sugar) and calls everyone else shugg too—got married all those years ago, she thought her husband was going to stay on the corporate side of things. But if Whitaker wasn’t traveling from their home in Greenville to Hatteras to fish every weekend, he was running a few privately owned boats for friends, competing in tournaments like the Big Rock, or flying planes to Palm Beach to fish the sailfish bite. The man just couldn’t stay away from the water. Elaine saw the writing on the wall.
“I just thought to myself,” she recalls. “How can you stand in the way of someone you love and their passions?”
When Whitaker’s good friend John Lee offered him the opportunity to run his 37-foot Sunny Briggs docked in Hatteras, Elaine suggested the couple leave the comforts of their life in Greenville and make the move. In 1987, they settled into their new place on the island, and Whitaker kicked off his first season as a full-time charter fisherman.
In the Charter Business
“I started out running John’s boat,” Whitaker says. “Some of the local charter guys stood up for me and agreed to give me a shot to prove myself. I had met a lot of reps at the sporting goods store, so I worked closely with tackle companies in that first year and fished 120 days.”
On days he didn’t have a charter on the Sunny Briggs, Whitaker would ride along as a mate with other captains. It was a great way to get additional experience while also helping Hatteras’ sport-fishing community.
Two years later, with a growing clientele, Whitaker went out on his own and bought a 47-foot Omie Tillett called Release. The charter business rocketed to a 200-day operation. During the offseason, he would go duck hunting and commercial fishing.
In 1999, Whitaker bought the boat he still fishes on today. Also called Release, the 53-foot Bobby Sullivan is a mainstay at Hatteras Harbor Marina. “I bought the boat from Arvin Midgett,” Whitaker says. “Arvin took good care of boats, so I knew I’d not only get a well-built boat, but one that had been kept up really well too. It’s laid out right for charter fishing and runs on a single engine. I’ve caught a lot of fish on it over the years.”
While Whitaker is an undeniably skilled fisherman, his success as a charter captain also stands on his suite of other talents. “He works as hard as he can to put fish in that box,” says Andy Trant, who worked as a mate aboard Release for eight years. “But I think the way he takes care of people is what has made him so successful. He doesn’t think of them as clients. He’s building relationships and making them part of the team.”
About the same time Whitaker moved to Hatteras, another iconic charter figure, Capt. Steve “Creature” Coulter, launched his career there too. Coulter owns and operates the 58-foot Sea Creature, also docked at Hatteras Harbor Marina.
While I was in town to interview Whitaker, he escorted me across the marina’s parking lot to Sea Creature’s slip. We stepped into the salon and found Coulter sunken into a dark leather couch with a newly lit cigarette in hand. It takes no time for Coulter’s sharp wit to assess a person carefully. He’s sizing you up the minute you meet. Then he wields his first joke just to see if you even get it.
“I can’t tell you about my favorite memories with Rom,” Coulter says with a devilish grin and a raised eyebrow. “But he’s a stand-up guy. There are a lot of people in this business who are not. He’s always forthcoming with information. And we all do better in this industry when we work together.
“Rom likes to beat you, but he’s fair about it,” he admits. “And I like to beat him too. We all like to catch fish. But Rom likes to catch the most fish.”
In time, Coulter revealed one of his favorite pranks. “Rom knows I joke around all the time,” he says. “I always take two or three Release business cards when I go out of town for tournaments and introduce myself as Rom Whitaker when I go to the bars.”
So be warned: Coulter is on the loose, and Whitaker has plausible deniability if you had a run-in with him before last call.
For Family and Community
It took little time for the Whitakers to assimilate into Hatteras Village, with its cascading dunes, watermen culture and hard-charging tourist season. Elaine worked as a schoolteacher while Whitaker became a prominent local captain.
Throughout his career, Whitaker has raised up a long line of Hatteras’ mates. His program is notoriously rigorous. “I fished a lot of Thanksgivings and New Years with Rom,” Trant says. “Holidays didn’t matter. He’s hard to fish for, but he doesn’t yell and he’s fair. Fishing as much as we did, you’re forced to learn. I learned a lot from Rom.”
Life in the Whitaker home abruptly changed in the early ’90s when the couple had two boys to raise. Now grown and married, both little Rom and Cameron are inshore-nearshore charter captains in Hatteras. They each have tremendous respect for their father.
“He’s my daggone best friend,” little Rom says. “He’s first-class as he can be. He’s a good teacher and he’s patient. I mean, he expects you to learn, but he’s understanding.”
“His example has shaped how I live my own life,” Cameron adds. “He’s one of the best role models to look up to. Everybody knows Dad. Now that I’m older, I appreciate how he built his reputation through hard work. He was going to go where the fish were no matter what. And after 40 years of marriage, he and my mom are still so happy and supportive of each other. They make it seem so easy.”
While in town, I had dinner with the family at the Whitaker home. The spread was fantastic. Guacamole, southern dips and various seafood dishes were beautifully plated along the kitchen counter. Elaine and others busily prepared the meal while I perused old photo albums of Whitaker and the boys.
It didn’t take long for the boys to get comfortable and share stories about growing up in Hatteras, including the time they racked up a steep bill at the local tackle shop, memorable parties on nearby islands, and an accidental fire or two. Some tales are simply not fit for print, especially the ones that were only revealed to their parents when a journalist was sat at the table. It was a fun evening at the Whitaker home, one where Elaine may have physically cringed once or twice.
“I took it for granted growing up in Hatteras,” little Rom admits. “Surfing, fishing, duck hunting in wintertime. Once I saw the real world, I realized I don’t like the rat race. I like the small-town community we have here, driving down the highway and waving to everyone.”
Living in Hatteras still comes with its trials. With ever-tightening regulations, commercial and charter fishermen battle to stay afloat. Add in unreliable waterways and the threat of hurricanes, and life on the beach can be challenging. Whitaker encouraged his sons to leave Hatteras and explore before choosing careers in the charter industry. Both boys followed his advice, and Cameron went on to get his master’s degree in business. “Dad gave us that opportunity to see the world, and we both came home,” Cameron says. “You can’t find a better community than what we have right here.”
Whitaker has been deeply involved in building that community for the better. He’s been a vocal advocate for North Carolina’s commercial and charter fleets as a member of several federal and state advisory panels, including for the management of billfish, sharks and tuna, as well as dolphin and wahoo.
Importantly, Whitaker has historically been involved in marking the famously changing Hatteras Inlet. “When I was fishing with him,” Trant says, “we were using old brake drums and poly balls to mark the inlet.”
“When our channel is messed up, boats want to follow Dad out and have him lead the way,” little Rom says. “He’s earned the respect of the village.”
Whitaker is also a proud member of the Hatteras Marlin Club and oversees spending at the Hatteras Civic Center. “I do love this community,” he says. “I just want to give back because I love the people here, and I’ll give anything in the world to keep Hatteras, Hatteras. I don’t want to see this place change.”
A Win for the Good Guys
It’s not just Hatteras that has benefited from Whitaker’s influence. Folks around the world, whether in Bermuda, Mexico, Florida or other fishing locales along the Eastern Seaboard, turn out to support him. His colossal fan base was never more evident than in 2024 when he and his crew won the Fabulous Fisherman category and $2.2 million at the Big Rock Blue Marlin Tournament with a 504-pound blue marlin.
“My best friend told me that there were probably 8,000 people there at Big Rock,” Whitaker recalls with lingering astonishment. “My phone went dead in 30 to 40 minutes of us boating that fish. I had people from Florida to Maine pulling for me, and when I got my phone back on, I had about 500 texts.”
Although he had many supporters waiting for him at the dock, including weighmasters Randy Gregory and George Lott, Whitaker was very concerned one person wouldn’t make it in time.
“Rom called me on his way in and didn’t even seem worried about that fish making weight,” Gregory recalls. “He was most concerned about getting Elaine to the weigh-in.”
Elaine had a fairly long drive, but with the help of police escorts and tournament staff, she did indeed make it to Big Rock Landing.
“People were screaming and hollering so loudly that I got overwhelmed when docking,” Whitaker recalls. “I had to try it again. We got tied up, and George and Randy, who I’ve known for 30 years, were measuring the fish. I could tell they were excited for me. Then the crowd got real quiet. When I heard 500, it was one of those moments your soul leaves your body. Randy hugged me so hard, I couldn’t even breathe. George must have jumped 4 feet in the air. I was jumping too. I was a rock star. People were asking for my autograph. Randy told me he’d never seen anything quite like it.”
It felt like the whole sport-fishing world was celebrating the good guys, an old charter operation that had been fishing the Big Rock for decades and finally came out right on top. The clients on board had been fishing with Whitaker for over 20 years. They had won various categories at the tournament in the past, but nothing quite like this. Whitaker and others, including his son Cameron, split several categories that the clients didn’t opt to enter. “We had been splitting shares for years, and I started to feel embarrassed that I hadn’t won Cameron and Big A [Sea Striker’s Adrian Holler] any money.”
When Release boated that fish, the proud father was finally able to make a long-awaited call. “He left me a voicemail,” Cameron says with a recollecting smile as he prepares to imitate his father’s higher-pitched rasp. “‘I might have won you a lot of money today, son.’”
Elaine could hardly understand her husband when he called her with the news. He was so excited that he could barely string a sentence together.
“It felt like a hometown story for the Outer Banks,” Cameron says. “A charter boat wins among million-dollar yachts.”
Cameron’s share of the winnings would help him and his wife launch Reel Swirly, their frozen yogurt shop on Hatteras Island. Meanwhile, Whitaker finally had the resources to buy an omni sonar for Release.
To the Horizon
That win was life-changing for Whitaker and his family. But the captain’s busy schedule has yet to change. Still, his body is tired from decades of wear at sea. “For 30 years, he’s changed the oil at night, stayed up until 11 watching the news or the game, and then woken up at 4 a.m. to fish—every day,” little Rom says. “He’s committed. I don’t think anyone on this planet is as tough as him.”
“Rough days are tougher on me now,” Whitaker admits. “But there’s still nothing more exciting to me than a blue marlin. I have a few years left in me yet. But if I die tomorrow, come to my funeral celebrating. I don’t know if I have enough time to give back what Hatteras has given me. I’ve lived a dream come true.”
The little boy on the pier really did live his dream. Today, when Release turns loose from the marina in Hatteras, a line of boats falls in behind. Fishermen from all along the coast gather to follow Capt. Rom Whitaker, one of the greatest charter captains of our time, to that blazing horizon.
