“State Game Warden.
Y’all havin’ any luck?” These are words I’ve uttered thousands of times over almost 30 years of checking fishermen.
After ascertaining whether any luck had been had, and maybe lifting an ice chest lid or pulling up a stringer just to keep ‘em honest, I would follow with, “Well, I need to take a quick look at y’all’s fishing licenses.”
If everything was in order, I’d chat a bit and then move on. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy.
BUT – if something wasn’t in order, things could get interesting. Let’s say there was a fisherman fishing without a license.
When charged with the task of producing one, he’d say something like, “I know I got it here somewhere, officer…” as he filed through each scrap of paper in his wallet (at least three times) and scratched around every nook and cranny of his tacklebox (twice) before fiddle-fuddling about his truck or boat and finally asking whoever he was with if they had any knowledge of where it might be.
Then, I’d get, “Well, I must have left it in my other boat, truck, tacklebox, wallet, beach house, bunkhouse or outhouse.”
Of course, all that was back before we all got dumbed down by smartphones. I don’t know about you, but I used to could remember things – like directions.
These days, I can’t hardly get anywhere without plugging the destination into my phone and waiting for Siri to tell the idiot where to turn.
Similarly, Siri can help you find your fishing license too, and if you don’t have your phone, the game warden can find your license on his (or hers). It takes all the fun out of it if you ask me.
Who am I fooling, though? I was good at forgetting long before smartphones were a thing. Case in point: it was the first Saturday in June of 1992, and I had been a fullfledged game warden for just about a year.
I decided to start my day checking fishermen down on the Arroyo Colorado, and the first guy I found didn’t have a fishing license. Neither did the two guys who were with him, so I lined them all up on the hood of my trusty 1988 Dodge Diplomat and got out my ticket book.
I called the sheriff’s office dispatch to make sure they weren’t wanted or anything. Lucky for me, one of my partners, Game Warden Henry Balderamas, heard the radio traffic and figured out what I was doing.
Also lucky for me, Henry remembered it was Free Fishing Day. Since we didn’t have cell phones back then, Henry had to call me on the radio, where every warden within a 70mile radius could hear.
After exchanging some obligatory radio jargon that expressed our intentions to talk to each other, he politely said, “Uhhh… you remember it’s Free Fishing Day today, right?” I set my pen down mid-ticket, and said, “Uhhh… yeah! That’s a big 10-4. Sure do. Thanks anyway.”
I didn’t want to tell those three guys who didn’t know it was Free Fishing Day that it was, indeed, the case. I think I played it off as, “Well boys, I got another call and so I’m gonna let y’all go this time.”
They were happy, and since then, I haven’t forgotten that the first Saturday in June is always Free Fishing Day in Texas.
And now, I’m spreading the word. It falls on Saturday, June 1, this year, and no licenses or endorsements are required of anyone fishing recreationally in public waters.
So, if you know someone who has been wanting to go fishing but hasn’t wanted, or can’t afford, to pay for a license, June 1st is their day.
