#Threadfin – Share the Outdoors

Tarpon at Sunrise: Boca Grande Pass

Posted on May 10, 2026May 12, 2026 by Dave Barus

Tarpon are so big and so powerful that working them to the side of the boat is a fun experience that can take 30 to 45 minutes. We were using St. Croix 7-foot-10-inch St. Croix RIFT rods—medium heavy power, medium fast action, built to handle the brute strength of tarpon.

Boca Grande Pass is widely known as the tarpon fishing capital of the world.
We ran the beaches, circled Cayo Costa, thru Captiva Pass, back to the beach – and there they were!
The action was steady, intense, and unforgettable.

By Forrest Fisher

Daybreak comes softly along Florida’s Gulf Coast, but on this particular May morning not far from Englewood Beach, anticipation cut through the darkness long before the sun had a chance. Day two of our trip had us gearing up for something special—tarpon fishing in the waters surrounding Boca Grande Pass, widely known as the tarpon fishing capital of the world.

We met Charter Captain Justin Cauffman of Native Salt Charters at his dock on Gasparilla Island, just steps from the iconic Pink Elephant restaurant. The dock lights glowed against the night water surface as we made our way down just before 6 a.m. Waiting for us was his 25-foot C-Hawk bay boat, already alive with energy. Soft rock played quietly in the background while a wash of colorful interior lights gave the vessel a polished, almost futuristic feel. It was an impressive start to what would become an unforgettable day.

Captain Justin Cauffmann was waiting for us in his 25-foot C-Hawk bay boat, already alive with energy. Soft rock played quietly in the background while a wash of colorful interior lights gave the vessel a polished, almost futuristic feel.

The gear told its own story of preparation and precision. Rod holders lined the boat, each loaded with 7-foot-10-inch St. Croix RIFT rods—medium heavy power, medium fast action, built to handle the brute strength of tarpon. Paired with them were brand new Seviin 6000 reels, spooled with 60-pound braid line and finished with an 8-foot, 60-pound fluorocarbon leader tied to an 8/0 circle hook, that included a secret hook variation called a target bead. The FG knots connecting braid to leader were flawlessly smooth, nearly invisible to the eye—a small but critical detail when targeting wary giants.

We pushed off into the darkness, the wind already making its presence known—steady at 16 mph from the east-northeast. You know the old saying, wind from the east, fish bite the least. We were hoping that was not the case this day. As we ran toward Boca Grande Pass, the boat cut cleanly through the chop. Despite the conditions, not a single spray made it aboard. The air temperature hovered around 59 to 60 degrees, and Captain Justin laughed, calling it “sweater weather.” At 40 mph across open water, it felt much colder—but none of us seemed to mind. We were more familiar with the feeling of shoveling snow from a few weeks earlier, up north. Who said cold?! No way.

The Seviin GW 6000 open-faced spinning reels were loaded with 60-pound braid and an 8-foot 60-pound leader to a size 8/0 circle hook modified with a “hugger bead.” The 40-pound drag on these iconic looking reels was key to tiring out these mega-monster fish. FUN!

Fishing alongside two great friends, Josh Lantz from Michigan and Captain Richard Simms from Tennessee, the mood was equal parts focused and excited. We joked about the weather as we reached Boca pass. The captain started scanning. The depth dropped to around 80 feet, and the electronics lit up with side scan and down scan imagery. But something was off. The water was dirty—murky with reduced visibility—and the screens showed no signs of fish. It had been very windy the last several days.

“Tarpon don’t like dirty water,” Captain Justin explained.

“It’s time to move.”

Josh joked, “Where do you hide 10,000 tarpon?”

Justin smiled. “They move fast when conditions change. We’ll find them.” He said that in full confidence and we all felt reassured.

That kicked off a search that would cover roughly 25 miles over the next 45 minutes. We ran along the beaches, checked the departure buoys, and then circled around Cayo Costa toward Captiva Pass. No fish there either. The geography of this region—stretching from Englewood Beach to Gasparilla Beach through Boca Grande Pass and into Charlotte Harbor—is dynamic and alive. Barrier islands like Gasparilla and Cayo Costa shape the currents and tides, creating a constantly shifting mosaic of clean and dirty water, bait movement, and predator behavior.

Along the way, we made a quick stop to refresh the live well. With practiced skill, Justin tossed a 20-foot cast net, perfectly spread, with ease, over a school of bait. In less than ten minutes, we had dozens of lively 7-9 inch threadfin minnows to complement the crabs already onboard. Watching him throw that net was like watching a craftsman at work—effortless in appearance, but clearly the result of years of repetition.

Side-scan spotted the fish (upper right) while 3D down-scan showed their physical level top to bottom. The fish were all close to bottom in this relatively shallow beach water area, allowing the captain to vary methods to put us “into the bite” and catch them.

Then came the moment.

We swung back toward Gasparilla Island and West Side Beach, and suddenly the electronics lit up. Dozens of tarpon appeared on the side scan, stretching out to 100 feet.

They were here.

Lines went out. Baits hit the water. And almost immediately—chaos.

Richard hooked the first fish, a powerful adult stretching close to six feet. The fish surged, rolled, and fought with the kind of strength that defines tarpon fishing. After a determined battle, it came alongside the boat for a quick line touch—counted as a catch in tarpon fishing tradition.

The bite stayed hot.

**Adult tarpon can be 7-feet long and weigh up to 200 pounds, all the while leaping 5-feet out of the water with aerial acrobatics over a half-hour long rod/reel battle.**

Over the next five hours, each of us hooked multiple fish. The action was steady, intense, and unforgettable. I managed to land two tarpon—each fight lasting between 20 and 30 minutes. Even with top-tier gear, these fish demand everything you have. My arms, my back and my leg muscles were screaming from my aging body, but somehow, there was no sense of noticeable pain to complain about. This was sheer fun. Pain? What pain? Let’s do it again. And we did.

The Seviin 6500 reels performed flawlessly. Their smooth, consistent 40-pound drag helped wear down the fish without risking breakoffs. Combined with the strength and responsiveness (sensitivity) of the St. Croix RIFT rods, the setup proved ideal for battling these giants.

But one moment stood out above the rest.

Josh hooked into a massive tarpon—easily pushing five feet in length. The fight brought it close to the boat, the silver body flashing just beneath the surface. Then, in an instant, everything changed. Two bull sharks appeared out of nowhere. In a split second, they tore into the tarpon, literally slicing it in half midway between the head and tail before anyone could react.

It was shocking. Raw. Unfiltered.

“Nature at home,” someone said quietly…with some adrenalin tone in their voice.

The phrase “shark sustainability” came up—a reminder of the complex balance within this ecosystem. The same waters that produce incredible tarpon fishing also support thriving predator populations. It’s all connected. I heard one charter captain holler over to another, “There must be 40,000 tarpon in the harbor and pass right now, I’ve never seen anything like this in 20 years.” The only question for all the anglers is how to get one to bite your hook. The fish are busy showing off between themselves. The males impressing the females. Nature at its best.

Throughout the day, Captain Justin constantly adjusted tactics. He changed weights, added floats, switched leader sizes, and rotated baits between crabs, threadfin, and mullet. Every decision was deliberate, based on conditions, fish behavior, and nearly two decades of his experience on these waters.

And he shared it all.

From the nuances of tide movement in Boca Grande Pass to the migration patterns of tarpon along the beaches and into Charlotte Harbor, Justin turned the trip into a master class. He spoke about conservation, the importance of sustainable fisheries, and how responsible practices ensure that future generations can experience the same thrill.

**Threadfin in the 7-9 inch size worked for us, while crabs are the usual tarpon favorite dinner morsel. Both worked by end of the day.**

That thrill—the moment a tarpon explodes on a bait, the rod doubles over, and the reel drag screams—is hard to describe. It’s part adrenaline, part awe. These fish, often called “silver kings,” are among the most iconic gamefish in the world for a reason.

Landing one isn’t just a catch. It’s an accomplishment. My aching arms can share.

By the time we headed back, eight hours after we started, the sun was high and the chill of the morning long gone. But the energy remained. We were tired, windblown, and grinning from ear to ear.

From Englewood Beach to Boca Grande Pass and across the rich waters of Charlotte Harbor to Pine Island, the day had delivered everything—challenge, excitement, education, and a deep appreciation for one of the most remarkable fisheries in the country.

And somewhere out there, thousands of tarpon are still moving—waiting for the next perfect moment. From April through the start of July, this is “Tarpon Town.”

Author Note: For more information about Native Salt Charters, visit https://nativesaltcharters.com/. For information about lodging, eateries, and vacation services, visit the Punta Gorda and Englewood Beach Visitor and Convention Bureau at https://www.pureflorida.com/.

Casting the Caloosahatchee – Saltwater Fishing Fun

Posted on July 25, 2022July 25, 2022 by Forrest Fisher

Forage fish, predatory fish, wildlife, nature critters…and people in boats – all share in the bounty provided near Sanibel Island and nearby Estuaries.
Fishing friends gather, stories form and grow, grins occur, and life is good with fishing.

By Forrest Fisher

**Sunshine and grins are a big part of fishing with friends, especially on the Caloosahatchee River near Fort Myers. Fishes and nature abound here.**

As my grandson and I turned the corner to head toward the boat landing, a spectacular sunrise moment in full bloom appeared before us. The morning cloud formations in brilliant “glow orange” were above description. The white puffs were soaring up to 40,000 feet or more and reflecting with the glimmering orange radiance of the sunrise yet below our visible horizon. It was spooky, it was cool, and it was fantastic – all at the same time.

**The white puffs of clouds were soaring with the glimmering orange radiance of the sunrise yet below our visible horizon. It was spooky, it was excellent, and it was fantastic – all at the same time.**

“Good morning, guys! There’s hot coffee over here,” hollered Rich Perez and his dad, Rich Perez, Sr. It was 6:28 a.m., and they were both loading up the 2-wheeled gear-carry tram to move our fishing rods, tackle, coolers and foodstuffs from the parking area to dock and the boat. Grinning with his usual positive anticipation for the day ahead and looking at the tram, Rich Sr. said, “This thing is such a blessing!” A seagull hollered approval as he flew over our group and may have scented a whiff of Italian sub sandwiches below as if to ask, “Got anything down there for me?” Somehow the seagulls always know where to look for their next food morsel, especially near the beach.

My grandson Collin, myself, a neighbor friend Dustin, Rich Sr. and Rich – the five of us loaded the boat and headed down the Caloosahatchee River with grins for the day ahead and anticipation for tight lines to be shared. The 300HP Yamaha on the stern quickly poked the 24-foot Key West center console bay boat up to 40 mph. As we approached the Cape Coral Bridge, Rich hollered and pointed to see all the fish rising just off the main channel. In the approximately 1-mile-wide river section, we watched seagulls dive for baitfish pushed toward the surface by predator fish below. We saw an occasional fin or two as the fish would sweep and roll over to grab their breakfast.

**Collin Voss with the first fish of the day, a young-of-the-year Jack Crevalle. His first “Catch and Release” of the day.**

“Guys, let’s get some spoons tied on and see what those fish are,” Rich added. Collin tossed a ½-ounce Johnson Silver Sprite spoon near the mixing boils about 50 feet from the boat. His first cast yielded a nice 20-inch ladyfish, then another and another – the kid was on ladyfish fire. ”There’s another one!” he said. Rich suggested we keep a few of these for cut bait if we couldn’t find any pilchards with the cast net later. We all traded the casting rods to share in the brief fun. Collin caught his first-ever Jack Crevalle during the baitfish melee. A little one, but we had to take a pic.

The sun had just popped up behind us as we headed under the 90-foot-high span of the Cape Coral Bridge. The boat traffic was minimal, a good thing, but it was early. We slowed for the two no-wake zones along the way to protect shallow water migrating Manatee from boat damage. We waved to other recreational boaters and anglers alike, and everyone was happy to be sharing the day. Then we headed west under the Sanibel Causeway bridge and to Matanzas Pass near Fort Myers beach. We searched for full blooms of baitfish clouds on the sonar, hoping to find pilchards or threadfin herring. We checked all the usual bridge abutment spots, anchored pilings and permanent buoys, and Rich threw the 12-foot net, but the counts were nil. Just as we were set to depart the area, a young-of-the-year snowy egret landed on the bow. Apparently looking for a few minnows that he anticipated he could steal, but there were none. The white feathers of the bird and the black beak allow this bird to be startlingly beautiful to watch. It has been said by others that the white color signifies attributes of purity, dignity and tranquility, while black provides a symbol of mystery, elegance and sophistication. On we went to share in mystery and tranquility!

**The Sabiki rig allowed us to catch about 30 threadfin shad for bait, plus the cut bait that we had from the ladyfish caught earlier.**

Rich explained that although it takes a little more effort to catch and fish with bait fish, he added, “It is the hunt for the bait that tells what is going on with the fishery on the day we fish, and that this is all part of the challenge for a fishing day, at time. He added, “Live bait fish are still among the most effective ways to catch fish, wherever you fish.” My grandson and I have fished with many friends that catch their baitfish in various ways. Everyone has their most effective personal style of capturing bait. No doubt, the cast net is the most effective where it is legal, but there are minnow traps, seine nets, pinfish traps and, of course, those trusty multi-hook Sabiki rigs. The Sabiki rig is for when the bait is too deep or is quicker than the descending cast net. Only moments later, “What do you guys think? Should we try the Sabiki rigs?” We all signaled a hearty yeah. Tying these on with a 3-ounce bottom weight makes it easy to drop and lift in 10 to 20 feet of water. The rigs featured 7-hooks tied in dropper-loop style, and the sharp, tiny hooks were colored with chartreuse yellow imitation feathers. With an outgoing tide, we caught about 30 threadfins in just a few minutes after moving to deeper water near the bridge abutments. Rich drove around slowly to find the clouds of fish near the bottom. Hey, this bait fish fishing was fun!

Rich moved us to the isolated mangrove shoreline between Punta Creek and Jewfish Creek. The mangrove side was shallow, and in this location, the opposite side of the boat was near a sector of deep drop-offs linked up with the Okeechobee Waterway. A transitory fish channel. A fish hawk flew by just moments later and decided to hover over the boat. He might have spotted the cut bait Rich had prepared on the stern. We waved at him, and he moved on. A sight to see, but all the sea birds seemed hungry.

**Dustin working the shadows with his skip-casting artform was looking for Snook hiding in the shade that might need a tasty tidbit of threadfin.**

Our day went on, moving from time to time, casting the live bait to the shadows on the mangrove side (Size 3/0 hooks with 30-pound fluorocarbon leader off 30-pound braid) and throwing DOA shrimp-style jigs on the deep water side. We enjoyed an excellent time fishing, some tasty sandwiches, cold beverages on ice in the Yeti, and jokes and laughter. We hooked up with many different fish species but lost many of them on this day. Rich Sr. had hooked up with three Snook that simply outsmarted his total control of rod, reel and drag. He had words that were shared with the intelligent fish, but then all that changed in just one quick instant.

Rich Sr. said, “Hey, I got one! Look at this” He lifted his rod and touted a giant blue crab on board. The crab immediately went into toe pinching mode, adding one more saga of yelping to the fish trip. Just then, a dolphin emerged a few feet from the boat. He, too, was fishing for a meal. Beautiful to see all these critters of nature in one day on the water.

Overall, Collin may have hooked and lost more fish than Rich Sr., but he simply shared a grin with each release that he called “good conservation practice.” Collin was dubbed with a new nickname before the trip ended. Nice going, “CR!” After a few quips from the fishing crew and hearty laughs, Collin said, “OK, what does the CR stand for?” Someone shared, “It means Catch and Release. You earned a new title, CR!” We all laughed out loud. Honestly, that was very unlike Collin; he was a sure hook and catch guy, but not today. He shouted out an answer to everybody on the boat, “Captain Rich, I need more practice. When can we fish again?!” Hearty laughs followed again.

Just then Rich hooked into something that was taking his 30-pound braid out on the drag setting. Whatever it was, the tug of war went on for about 10-minutes before Collin reached for the net. There is was, a nice Jack Crevalle. An adult this time. Rich said, “Man these guys fight so hard!”

The trip was full of chuckling moments, the kind that lasts a lifetime in our minds of these extraordinary times to be remembered. We had caught Snook, Jack Crevalle, Ladyfish, and many forms of baitfish – those on rod and reel including Threadfin and Pilchards, and a blue crab, and we enjoyed the peace of observing many sea birds and a dolphin. All close-up.

As we watched the usual afternoon storm clouds forming on the eastern horizon, it was after 12 noon, and we had agreed with Captain Rich that it was time to head back. Just a mile from the boat dock, the clouds decided to open up with a sturdy fresh water rinse. All of us and our gear received a wash down. With the earlier temperature nearing 95 degrees, it felt good. I prayed with a silent Our Father, too, as we all heard the thunder claps and watched lightning strikes in the distance on each side of the river. A moment later, we were safe at the dock.

Thank you, Lord, for this day. Amen. I can’t wait until we fish again!