The Long Arm of the Law
Sometimes it really pays to follow the rules. One morning in college I was fishing in a lake in California up in the mountains. It was a slow morning and I had only caught one trout. The guy next to me, who looked to be in his late 20s or early 30s, had caught some catfish. An older man next to him had warned him that catfish season was closed at that lake, but the guy just sneered at him and put the catfish on his stringer.
All of a sudden, without warning, several cars and SUVs with sirens blazing stormed over the hill behind us. I assumed it was the police but upon closer inspection I could see it was the California Department of Fish and Game. I had no idea that they rolled like that. Immediately some guys on the other side of the lake took off running like they had 5 kilos of cocaine in their pockets or something. Seeing that they could not get away, some guys farther down on my side of the lake just threw all their fishing tackle into the lake. Rods, reels, tackle boxes, buckets, everything. They didn't hesitate for a second; it was crazy. Apparently they were old hands at the art of destruction of fishing evidence.
Because the DFG had come up right behind us, I and the two guys next to me didn't really have much of a chance to react. The DFG guys asked the older guy for his license, which he had pinned to his hat. They looked at it and continued on to me. Feeling very glad that I had just stopped off at Wal-Mart to get one, I showed them my license and they moved on to the guy who had caught the catfish.
The guy with the catfish looked a little nervous and said he didn't have a license. The DFG guys asked why. After some thought, you could see a light bulb go off in his head and he smiled and said he didn't need one because he was under 16. This answer was met with skepticism by the DFG because the guy had a full beard and looked at least 28. They asked him for some ID, and after a little more thought he again responded that he was under 16 and therefore did not have a drivers license. They asked him how had gotten up to this lake in the middle of the mountains. He looked pretty rattled by that, thought nervously for a while, and then indicated that his dad had driven him up there. When they asked where his dad was, he said "it's this guy", pointing to the older man next to us. The older man glared at him and said "No I'm not!" It was pretty amusing.
While this discussion was going on, one of the other DFG guys pulled up the guys stringer and it was full of catfish. Apparently the fine was something like $400 per fish, on top of whatever he was going to pay for not having a license. Ouch. As soon as the DFG guy questioning him saw the stringer, he pulled out his handcuffs, cuffed the guy, and put him in the back of the DFG car. I had no idea they could do that. They didn't do anything to the guys who had thrown all of their tackle in the water, so maybe that tactic works, but I figure it's better just to go to Wal-Mart and get a license.
Sometimes it really pays to follow the rules. One morning in college I was fishing in a lake in California up in the mountains. It was a slow morning and I had only caught one trout. The guy next to me, who looked to be in his late 20s or early 30s, had caught some catfish. An older man next to him had warned him that catfish season was closed at that lake, but the guy just sneered at him and put the catfish on his stringer.
All of a sudden, without warning, several cars and SUVs with sirens blazing stormed over the hill behind us. I assumed it was the police but upon closer inspection I could see it was the California Department of Fish and Game. I had no idea that they rolled like that. Immediately some guys on the other side of the lake took off running like they had 5 kilos of cocaine in their pockets or something. Seeing that they could not get away, some guys farther down on my side of the lake just threw all their fishing tackle into the lake. Rods, reels, tackle boxes, buckets, everything. They didn't hesitate for a second; it was crazy. Apparently they were old hands at the art of destruction of fishing evidence.
Because the DFG had come up right behind us, I and the two guys next to me didn't really have much of a chance to react. The DFG guys asked the older guy for his license, which he had pinned to his hat. They looked at it and continued on to me. Feeling very glad that I had just stopped off at Wal-Mart to get one, I showed them my license and they moved on to the guy who had caught the catfish.
The guy with the catfish looked a little nervous and said he didn't have a license. The DFG guys asked why. After some thought, you could see a light bulb go off in his head and he smiled and said he didn't need one because he was under 16. This answer was met with skepticism by the DFG because the guy had a full beard and looked at least 28. They asked him for some ID, and after a little more thought he again responded that he was under 16 and therefore did not have a drivers license. They asked him how had gotten up to this lake in the middle of the mountains. He looked pretty rattled by that, thought nervously for a while, and then indicated that his dad had driven him up there. When they asked where his dad was, he said "it's this guy", pointing to the older man next to us. The older man glared at him and said "No I'm not!" It was pretty amusing.
While this discussion was going on, one of the other DFG guys pulled up the guys stringer and it was full of catfish. Apparently the fine was something like $400 per fish, on top of whatever he was going to pay for not having a license. Ouch. As soon as the DFG guy questioning him saw the stringer, he pulled out his handcuffs, cuffed the guy, and put him in the back of the DFG car. I had no idea they could do that. They didn't do anything to the guys who had thrown all of their tackle in the water, so maybe that tactic works, but I figure it's better just to go to Wal-Mart and get a license.
