Platshorn’s involvement with crime didn’t begin with ‘The Black Tuna Gang,’ but rather when he was a child, growing up in South Philadelphia. He started up the ‘South Street Gang,’ at the tender age of four, and caused the kind of trouble that one would expect a couple of boys to get into. It wasn’t until later, in 1976 when he first started dabbling in the smuggling game. At the time, Platshorn owned an ice cream shop, and was the picture of a “respectable” businessman.’ One day, his friend, Luke, asked if he could help him “move some weight,’ and store primo Colombian pot in the warehouse that he used for storage.
"At the time, marijuana was on the track to becoming legalized. So I didn’t think it was a big deal at all." Platshorn declares. "So I let him use it."
Not surprisingly, the resulting income was impressive, and eventually this led to bigger, much more sophisticated schemes. He then went on to get his pilot’s license and began transporting cargo despite the fact that he wasn’t instrument-rated to fly. He still managed to transport on solely visual rules. "We would fly so low to the ground that it wasn’t a problem. I had a close encounter one time where I had to make an emergency landing." Platshorn recalls telling air traffic control that he was a student flyer, and needed assistance for a clear place to land. After safely making it to the ground, he realized that once an official would require him to fill out an emergency report for the aircraft, they’d realize the plane he was flying would never pass for a student’s learning to fly. So he waited until it was clear to fly back to his original destination, and left, before someone came.
Most of the marijuana he and his partners transported originated in Santa Marta, Colombia; the shipments he brought by sea would go through Chubb Cay in the Bahamas. I ask if bribing was involved when dealing with the Bahamian government, and Platshorn hedges. "When we would pick up from the Bahamas, we tried to be as legitimate as possible, for as long as possible," he explained. "We would go out fishing, we clear customs through the Bahamas, and we would fish for a couple of days, sometimes at a tournament, just for pleasure until we got the word for a pick up."
Over the course of his smuggling career, Platshorn was never on the DEA or FBI’s radar. The closest encounter he ever had to being under surveillance came about when he fibbed to a female friend, coming up with explanations as to why he continuously had to go back and forth to a particular house, one used for shipments. Platshorn told her he visited the house was because it was going to be used in Robert Redford movie. But she camped outside the house for days, waiting for Redford to arrive. As a result, the arrival date of his shipment had to be pushed back. That was the closest he and his gang ever got to be ‘watched.’
Every penny of every transaction, was carefully accounted for and documented in the books. And with new money came new investments, and more opportunities. Platshorn mentions in the book that one of the purchases he made even included (“not knowingly,” he said, laughing) a whorehouse in Las Vegas with a landing strip in the back.
That came about when Platshorn gave a couple hundred thousand dollars to a cousin of his close friend, Gene, in order to buy a constellation aircraft that he and his gang had decided to invest in. Platshorn, against Gene’s wishes, chose to place a briefcase of cash in the hands of someone who went by the name of “Scratch.” Weeks went by with no word from Scratch. Platshorn figured the money was gone, he recalled, until he got a bang on the door.
"There it is, Gene’s cousin Scratch. Scratch is coked to the eyeballs. He probably hadn’t been to sleep in days. He’s got a suitcase, the one that had the money. Big briefcase, and it’s only got 60 to 70 thousand dollars." Platshorn begins to laugh. "Scratch tells me, ‘Oh, we couldn’t buy the plane. The D.E.A. was watching us. The F.B.I. was around. We got word.’ I don’t know, or even think, any of that is true."
Scratch then went on to explain where the rest of the money went, according to Platshorn. "’You know in Nevada, whore houses are legal?’ I said, ‘Yeah, I know that, Scratch.’ And he says, ‘Well, we own the nicest one.’"
I causally ask Platshorn what happened to that whorehouse and he chuckles "I have no idea, probably still there and back to its original owners."
From the start Platshorn and his gang had a plan: they made a pact to check out once they each made their first million. Amazingly enough, as they were pulling in all kinds of money, they stuck to that plan.
It would be a solid two years later, after Platshorn stepped away from drug smuggling, that he got arrested. He was aware it was going to happen, but the nature of the arrest came as a complete shock. The element of surprise took place very early morning in a nature similar to the government’s seizing of Elian Gonzalez. The door to Platshorn’s house was banged down, and numerous agents ran in, full on guns present. His young son witnessed everything.
The arrest came during a time when the drug world was becoming increasingly violent with mounting body counts. The government needed a scapegoat, someone whose arrest would send a message. Who better to make an example of than a non-violent, sophisticated marijuana smuggler? Platshorn was sentenced to 29 years, a record for someone who had no priors and had committed non-violent crimes, and he served every one — a far cry from a slap on the wrist. The Black Tuna Gang essentially ended up being the visual head on a stick, to show just how serious the consequences pf drug smuggling can be.
Platshorn informs me that he and his gang researched what the probable jail sentence would be for marijuana smuggling: two to four years, five tops.
Platshorn was sentenced to almost six times the penalty of the probable harshest punishment. During the trial, the government refused to use The Black Tuna Gang’s accounting books as evidence, since doing so would prove that they were not nearly responsible for everything they were being charged with. To this day, the D.E.A. fails to mention that they never found the ‘Black Tuna’s alleged yachts, planes, or $300 million dollars they were suspected of having. Even though with those missing critical pieces to the puzzle, Platshorn still took the harshest fall, forcing him to leave his wife and young son for almost three decades.
Over the course of his long sentence, Platshorn was sent to 11 different prisons, and had numerous encounters with inmates who falsely claimed to be a part of The Black Tuna Gang. During their smuggling run, the gang only remained between the same, small group of friends.
It was in prison where Platshorn initially had the idea to write a book, surprisingly enough not about “The Black Tuna Diaries,” but rather another of his hobbies: garnishing. He intended to wait until his release from prison before embarking on “The Black Tuna Diaries,” but changed his mind when he found out that a friend was already was working on the garnishing book.
"The Black Tuna Diaries,’ would not be easy to write in jail, despite Platshorn’s having copious amounts of time. He was only allowed to write for four hours a day, and the computer ‘privileges’ were solely to be used for legal work, a restriction that forced him to hide and smuggle out his work under legal books.
"When I came out of prison I was broke,” Platshorn said emphatically. “Every single dollar I had went to my wife and son for his schooling." I mention to him that he may have left prison broke financially, but his wife stood by him and waited for him until his release from prison. He nods, smiling, and explained that he encouraged her not to sit back and watch time go by.
"I wanted her to lead her own life while I was in jail,” he said. “And she did."
After his release from prison, Platshorn self-published his book, an honest portrayal of the life of a drug smuggler and the characters that he encountered along the way.
I asked him what he’s been up to since his release. Now free, Platshorn informs me that he also advocates with N.O.R.M.L. or as he dubs it, ‘Geezers for Medical Weed’. His goals are for the legalization of marijuana and for the current administration to realize that the war on marijuana for the past 70 years is by far the dumbest American war.
Our chat comes to an end after almost two hours.
Platshorn begins to pack up his belongings back into his briefcase and pauses for a second. "Wait, so when is this article going to be published?" He causally asks.
"(Around) April 1," I informed him.
The former smuggler chuckles and takes a deep drag from his cigarette. "That’s the same exact day I was released from prison two years ago. April Fool’s Day."
For more information on Robert Platshorn and “The Black Tuna Diaries,” please go to his website www.Blacktunadiaries.com
Robert Platshorn is scheduled to speak on April 15 at the Miami Historical Museum.
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