by Andrew Court
If you’ve gone on a Miami boat day, and the tropical ocean was calm, chances are you anchored off Fowey Rocks Light House.
The structure sits just at the point where the city becomes a hazy mirage on the horizon. Around its base coral grows and tropical fish enjoy this underwater version of a third-tier city. Boats anchor around it and locals who aren’t drunk—or don’t care—go for a snorkel. The current can be strong but that only adds to the fun.
In 1945 this now party destination was the hunting ground of Art Pinder, one of spearfishing’s legends.
Art was looking for grouper and hog fish, more for the eating than anything else. These bottom fish were easy, something he’d been catching since boyhood. Then he saw it, the first step of his hero’s journey. As the sailfish swam by he pulled the sling spear back and fired.
Catching a sailfish with a spear was big news, one writer compared it to shooting a hole-in-one with a moving hole. This was only the beginning; he went on to famously spear an 800 pound goliath grouper, the largest fish ever caught with a spear. He also won multiple competitions, including the 1954 national championship.
This led to the cover of Sport Illustrated, the first and last time a spearfisherman has achieved that honor. Fame brought a career as a swimsuit model and liquor spokesperson. This was a strange turn of events for a modest lifelong teetotaler. The apex of his public persona came with an appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show.
The fourth of five children, Art was born in an idyllic Miami Beach. His father, Ray Pinder, was a keen outdoorsman, working his way up to become chief of the local life guards. When not underwater Ray was a master boat builder and engineer for American Airlines. The apple wouldn’t, as the cliche goes, fall far from the tree. Art would also work as life guard on Miami Beach and he would become, almost prophetically, a Florida State archery champion.
At a time when underwater hunting was still in its infancy, the Pinder boys—Art, Don, and Fred—experimented with homemade spearguns, building prototypes from wood, rubber, and metal. These early contraptions were crude compared to modern guns, but they were effective enough for the Pinder brothers to begin taking their share of fish from the waters off Miami. Art admitted that his brothers were the better divers, but they lost interest in competitive spearfishing.
Art’s early start in and continued enthusiasm for the sport of spearfishing would pay off. The post-World War II era saw a rise in technological advancements which opened up new possibilities for spearfishermen. While others were dabbling in the practice, Art was perfecting it. He was developing a technique and art form that would revolutionize the sport.
All of this took place in a Miami Beach scene far removed from today’s world of Lamborghini’s and crypto bros. At the time it was mostly a retirement destination, defined by Jewish diners like Wolfie’s. The Cocaine Cowboys were decades away and this was still a southern city.
Pinder’s style of spearfishing was all about simplicity. He was a free diver and didn’t use the new to the 1950s invention of SCUBA equipment. His approach requires a lot of practice and physical conditioning. Silently holding his breath and economizing his movement, Art silently glided through the water, observing the movements of the fish and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
He used a hand held sling spear—basically an evolved underwater slingshot. His biography is literally titled King of the Sling. This method of take is experiencing a bit of a resurgence and is the only style of spear allowed in the Bahamas.
On shore, Pinder lived an interesting life as well. He encountered many famous faces. These included, alongside a bevy of babes and heiresses, journalist and Ambassador Clare Boothe Luce and boat builder Don Aronow.
Spearfishing is having a moment, it’s become the sport of choice for Miami and Hamptons residents who see themselves as adventurers, complete with the restored Land Rover. A whole new crop of social media influencers are busy digitally demonstrating the sport pioneered by Pinder. Hard to know if the spearfishing purist in Art would scoff at the prices these affluent newbies are willing to pay for the “status” of being a spearfisher or if the enthusiast in him would win out at the sight of so many newcomers diving into the sport he loved and pioneered.
