Article by Bill Pino
The Magician
As I approached Miami International Airport, I reflected on my first trip to the Galapagos. It was 2009, and I had just visited a place I would fall in love with. I had caught my first fish on a fly—a beautiful striped marlin. I swam with turtles and hammerhead sharks. Sea lions befriended me and followed me around while snorkeling. I caught a 2 lb. wahoo—the proverbial wehoo. What an amazing trip. Now, just a two-hour layover in Miami and then home.
Uh oh. I misread my ticket. I have a nine-hour layover. I’m not getting a hotel for just a few hours! Who can I call to take me fishing?
After making a few calls, a friend set me up with a guy who told me to meet him at a bar called Mo Bar & Lounge. He would take me tarpon fishing all night and have me back at the airport in time to catch my flight. Well, this layover mistake just got exciting.
We sped out of the inlet, made a quick left, and stopped. My guide’s name was Russell Kleppinger. I’d never heard of him, but I was grateful. I wouldn’t be spending a few hours in an overpriced hotel—and maybe I’d catch my first tarpon. He was a good dude, and the only evidence of his confidence came when I told him I’d never caught a tarpon. He smiled and said, “We’re about to fix that.”
Fifteen minutes into the evening, a freight train ate my bait. The silver king took to the air. I don’t know if it was my imagination or if I really saw the moonlight reflect off those metallic, plate-sized scales—but that fish glowed like shiny sequins. Russell grabbed the leader, plucked off a scale, cut off a piece of fin, and stuck it in a saline-filled vial. He snapped a few photos, stood up, and said, “Now that that’s outta the way, let me tell you about these prehistoric, majestic creatures.”
I learned more about tarpon in the next twenty minutes than I ever knew, and the dissertation would have continued had another hungry tarpon not interrupted us—over and over and over again. At one point, as my semi-light action rod was doubled over and a second reel started screaming, Russell let out a big belly laugh and yelled out, “Hey all you folks on Collins Avenue, the real party is out here! You wanna dance? Come dance with the king of the shoreline! Because the real party is right out here! Billy, why aren’t you out on Collins Ave now, checking out the Latinas?”
I sheepishly answered, as if I were on the other end of the line with Jerry Maguire, “Because the real party is out here?”
“That’s right, Billy!” Now we had three tarpon jumping, moonlight shimmering off their scales, Latin music carrying out to meet us from all the bars along the strip, and this dude I’d met an hour ago screaming, “Because the real party is out here!” We released all three fish and then set up to do it again. We released thirteen tarpon that night, ranging from 25 lbs. to well over 100.
That was my introduction to tarpon fishing—and to Captain Russell Kleppinger. For the next sixteen years, I’ve been trying to screw up flights just to spend another evening with “The Tarponator.” I’ve followed the tarpon north to Haulover Inlet and south to Bahia Honda in the Florida Keys. Russell follows the tarpon. It’s amazing—the various techniques we’ve used according to the size of fish we’re targeting and the locations we’re fishing.
Up until now, I’ve used this space to write about exotic locations around the world to fish. But this piece is about a guy who follows the fish he’s obsessed with. He studies tarpon. Those little fin clips he took off my fish that first night? They were for a genetic sequencing study at the University of Miami. He has taught me more about a tarpon’s eyeball than most guides will ever know about the fish itself.
My favorite place to fish for tarpon is in Marathon Key. The technique there is completely different from other locations where we target tarpon. It’s even different depending on whether we fish during the day or at night. During the day, we drift crabs while moored under a bridge. When we hook up, we release the mooring and fight the tarpon away from the bridge. At night, we hunt for them using side-scan sonar, then cast at the fish. His subtle adjustments while fishing might go unnoticed—except that he’s teaching us the entire time he’s adjusting.
The bonus? We’re fishing in the Florida Keys. I love the laid-back Keys vibe compared to the traffic and expense of Miami. No matter where I meet Russell, I know he’s going to give maximum effort, and we’ll fish at the best possible time. How do you know when a guide wants to catch fish more than you do? When he tells me, “Let’s meet at 11:00 p.m. and fish till 3:00 a.m.” Why? Because that’s when they’ll be biting tonight. One would think he’s caught enough. Why not just do the standard 7:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m.? No, sir—we are fishing the tide. “See you at 11:00!” We caught eighteen that night.
One night, in between bites, he was telling my friend Kim Hermanowski and me about a new technique he was working on—catching swordfish on 20 lb. line during the day. Kim had never caught a swordfish and really wanted one—but she didn’t want to just push a button; she wanted to hand-crank a sword. We booked a couple of days to try to get Kim her sword. Kim is a cancer survivor, but because of her recovery medications, she has substantially weakened. So the thought of catching a sword on a 20 lb. line was daunting—but appealing.
The bonus was that part of Russell’s bait presentation involved using Squidnation Otter Tails. On day two, Kim got the bite. What a thrill it was to watch her hand-crank a small sword to the boat for a perfect release—her first swordfish, on a Squidnation product, using a new method that Russell developed. The trifecta of a special fish!
Russell is for hire, but I’d suggest you book early during his high season. He tends to tarpon fish from Haulover Inlet to Government Cut from October to early April. Then he moves to Marathon Key from early April until the end of May. For swordfishing, he prefers the calmer fall waters. If peacock bass or snook are on your bucket list, give him a call as well.
Now… How can I screw up my next layover?
Russell Kleppinger can be reached at (786) 290-3474 or on Facebook and Instagram.
