The second fish was hooked (by me) and heading for the bottom of a very deep lake in Maine. The rod was bent at an alarming angle, and I was hanging on for dear life. When my guide quietly suggested I adjust the drag, I reached down and realized I didn't know which way to turn the knob. In that one second of uncertainty (okay, stupidity), I gave the fish, most likely a huge togue, just the slack it needed to break off. I hooked it, played it, and lost it. My husband and the guide said nothing, and although I admit to turning the air blue, I had no one to blame but myself.