It’s often said among game wardens, that anybody can go out and write fishing license or water safety tickets all they want.
It’s easy. You just gotta check a lot of people engaged in fishing or operating a boat or whatever, and they either have what’s required for that activity or they don’t.
But to catch those who are really good at not getting caught at things like poaching a trophy deer or running a gill net in the bay, you gotta put in a lot of hours and have a ton of patience.
You gotta be knowledgeable, as well as good at running a boat or a vehicle in the dark with no lights, because most of the sneaky stuff happens at night. O h yeah – you gotta be sneaky too… and creative. And of course, there’s a certain amount of luck involved, as well.
Retired Game Warden Bruce Biederman taught me most everything I know about being a coastal game warden.
He was the first game warden to ever live in Port Mansfield, and he’d already been working there for about seven years when I got down to Willacy County.
Upon arrival, I thought I was pretty squared away on hunting-related stuff, but when it came to anything saltwater – I didn’t know squat.
I got a lot of on-the-job training, though.
At least one night a week, we’d work till the wee hours and then spend what was left of the night on a cabin on the water somewhere.
These were not lavishly appointed accommodations. They had no electricity, no water and lots of spiders. Other than that, they were great.
I think the first night I stayed in a cabin was in the Land Cut. We didn’t get to it till after midnight, so we pretty much got situated and turned in.
Come to think of it, my Academy- mate, Game Warden Henry Balderamas, was there too.
Bruce was our field training officer, as it were, and we were supposed to hang out with him until we were somewhat proficient at going it alone. Something woke me up around 4:00 a.m., and I saw a light flash though the windows. In my tee-shirt and underwear, I quietly walked
to the door.
As I stepped out, I was hit by a swath of light. I quickly dashed back in and peeped out a window.
In the distance, I saw a giant spotlight methodically working the shorelines on each side of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway.
In my sleep deprived stupor, it didn’t register what it could be. I started thinking War of the Worlds type thoughts. Should I wake Bruce and Henry? NO, dang it! I was gonna figure this out on my own.
I tiptoed to my bag and got my binoculars. I tiptoed back to the door, opened it slowly and snuck back out.
The light was gone, and then, there it was again. The binoculars didn’t help much. Whatever it was, was a long way off.
I sat on the dock in the darkness in my skivvies and did what most game wardens do most of their careers. I watched, and I waited. Thankfully, after about 10 minutes, or so, I figured it out.
According to Google AI, the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway in Texas is a vital route for barge traffic, handling a significant portion of the nation’s freight.
In 1991, there was no Google AI, so how was I supposed to know? I’m just glad I didn’t wake up Bruce and Henry.
You remember all that stuff I said about being knowledgeable, and sneaky, and creative and all that? Yeah… back then, I didn’t have any of that, and most snot-nosed neophytes straight out of the Game Warden Academy, or Training Center, don’t either. It takes time.
