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They’re back. After migrating from deeper water in the Gulf of Mexico and points north and south of Tampa Bay, the “silver kings” – or Megalops atlanticus, which roughly translates to “large-eyed Atlantic fish” but most take to mean giant tarpon – have returned to Tampa Bay to feed and prepare to spawn. Come winter, they’ll head back out to deep water, so right now is your chance for some of the most memorable dive and fishing trips anywhere.

For divers, you’ll need a smart and experienced dive master to get you out along the beach lines, passes and ledges, where the tarpon will be congregating in feeding schools – sometimes numbering in the hundreds – and where the water is clear enough to see the tarpon. They’re in the bays and lower rivers, too, but the relatively murkier waters make them harder to see.

A fish-finder will help locate the schools. Then if you descend slowly, very gently and make no sudden moves, the school may reposition itself to make room. You can stabilize buoyancy and swim among and alongside them, watching them watching you. I know, because I’ve done it. It is a spiritual experience, being with those gleaming sterling-silver fish, many of them longer and heavier than you, like gentle giants on display. They know you’re not a threat; they can move way faster than you can. And you’re obviously not food, so... no problem.

When you look at those enormous fish, think of the power and speed concealed in their bodies – concealed until they need it, that is – and your imagination pictures them 100 million years ago in these same waters. They are living remnants of pre-history, long before the first proto-humans were migrating out of Olduvai Gorge, and they have remained unchanged and virtually unchallenged by anything in the gulf. Only large sharks like hammerheads and bulls offer them any competition or threat. Aside from humans, of course.

Few scientific studies have been conducted on tarpon lifecycles that look past their early juvenile stages. Of course, anecdotal reports from charter boat captains and their clients abound, but scientists only dimly understand the complete lifecycle of the tarpon. Yet tarpon are very important to the state of Florida for the revenue stream they generate by tourism.

While tarpon are an important part of the subsistence diet in parts of impoverished Central and South America and along the West African coast, few Americans eat them because they are very bony and the flesh isn’t nearly as tasty as other sportfish. Still, most Floridians recognize the value tarpon fishing brings to our local economy. It’s not just for licenses and fees -- fishing guides, tackle and bait shops, hotels, restaurants, gas stations and many other businesses depend on anglers’ dollars. Technically, you can keep two tarpon a day -- it’ll cost you a $50 permit for each -- and have them mounted at a taxidermy shop if you simply must have a trophy fish on your wall (a dubious decor item, in my opinion).

Tarpon were once heavily fished in Tampa Bay and seldom released. I recall seeing the tarpon landing while I was a young boy riding along Bayshore Boulevard near the Platt Street bridge. (It’s still there, where they dock the Jose Gaspar pirate ship.) You could watch the tournament boats arrive, the trophy tarpon with their gleaming bodies hauled out onto docks and weighed, and the photos being taken of smiling anglers with their bounty of fish.

Early Action Helped Tarpon Rebound

Fast Facts About Tarpon

Tarpon thrive in a wide variety of habitats, and have been found as far north as Nova Scotia and Ireland.

Juvenile tarpon, usually found in marshes, mangrove swamps and even stagnant ponds, grow to about a foot long in one or two years. They tolerate low levels of dissolved oxygen by breathing air, allowing them to survive in waters where other fish could not.

Tarpon tolerate a wide variety of salinities and have been captured in freshwater lakes and rivers in Costa Rica and Nicaragua.

They may become stressed when water temperatures drop below about 55 degrees.

Along the Texas coast, tarpon are rather scarce today, and state authorities are trying to encourage their growth and return to their once native habitat, but they’re behind the times and lacking our knowledge. Here in Florida, we took action early, back in the late 1980s, and our tarpon fishing not only has been spared but has actually rebounded.

Today, the most experienced and knowledgeable captains and guides won’t let you take a tarpon home for stuffing, permit or not. They won’t even let you clip off one of their silver-dollar-size scales for a souvenir, because removing just that one piece of a silver king’s armor opens his body to infection and parasites. The best guides allow photos only, preferably with the fish still in the water. I think that’s partly why charter captains are predicting a better season this year than last, with several big money tournaments -- all catch-and-release.
If you take a kayak or canoe through the waters of Weedon Island Preserve, on the St. Petersburg side of Gandy Bridge, you’ll often see small tarpon rolling in the shallow waters. The copious mangroves and holes not only offer good prey stocks for them, they also give them places to hide from predators.

Mature tarpon can easily exceed six feet in length and 200 pounds in weight. But it takes them time to get that big, which is another reason why catch-and-release is so important. Scientists have tried to estimate how old the average tarpon gets by counting the rings on their otoliths -- ear bones -- in fish that have been caught and brought to shore. Currently, they believe tarpon can easily live 55 years or more and could reach 300 pounds and eight feet plus in length. One tarpon on exhibit at the John G. Shedd Aquarium was captured in 1935 and was at least 63 years old when it died in 1998.

For decades, tarpon have been regarded as one of the world’s most prized fighting fish. Anglers come from around the world to fish for them because they offer a fight featuring grueling runs and spectacular jumps up to 10 feet in the air that can last for hours. It takes a lot of strength and stamina to win against a tarpon, but the sense of achievement must be experienced to be understood.

For one thing, tarpon have remarkably hard, bony mouths. They’ll happily gobble up your bait -- menhaden, crab, mullet -- then the minute they feel you try to set the hook, they’ll leap like a dolphin and spit out the hook over and over again. It’s almost like they are toying with you. Another thing is their power -- they can and will even break the line or they’ll just wear you out and make you give up.

Then there’s their wiliness. Tarpon can make a snook seem careless about getting hooked. You see anglers racing their skiffs over the waves, and you know they’re not going to get near a tarpon. If you want to go to tarpon territory, watch for them rolling on the surface.

Tarpon are unique among fish because they have a swim bladder that connects directly to air, an ancient adaptation that allows them to breathe surface air when they want to. When you see tarpon rolling, approach cautiously and be like Elmer Fudd -- “vewy, vewy quiet!”

Gently offer the bait nearby, and wait for a strike. It’s best if you’re not alone and have somebody to help move the boat if necessary, because a giant tarpon can strip hundreds of yards of line off your reel faster than you can say, “Omigod, what do I do now?”

If you think you’re ready to challenge a tarpon, find yourself an experienced guide and consider entering one of our tarpon tournaments scheduled between now and end of July. The reward for participating in tournaments is three-fold: a day on the water, (always a good thing), fighting a big, tough fish (builds strong muscles,) and the chance to win big bucks (tournament prizes can run into several thousands of dollars). It also helps guides make a living, and they appreciate it (free markets, y’know?).