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More Fishing and Boating

• A not-so-lovely weekend for a regatta
• Seaworthy: Starting the season off right
• Seaworthy: Start the season right

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For all of us the end of summer is distinctive. It’s that schoolbus that you followed for six blocks this morning; it’s the shriek and shrill of the football coverage no matter what channel you tune in and it’s the steady upswing of activity here as the we ready for the snowbirds poised for their run south.

There is an extra added end-of-summer attraction for folks who do what I do. There’s a glut of notices from federal and state fishing administrators announcing meetings, panel appointments and advisory panel openings on all sorts of issues involving the great sport of fishing.

Kindly put, the bureaucrats have awaken from their long summer’s nap, and, once again, are ready to impress us with the power of their control.

Now, I’ve gone through dozens of these notices and one thing is consistent — not one, zero, null of these meetings, panels or boards is dealing with making our fishing more permissive. All of them deal with further restriction.

There are panels for further restricting the recreational take of red snapper; there are multiple panels on tightening the rules on recreational grouper catches; there are panels on totally closing fishing areas like the Everglades National Park; there are panels for studying how to give everyone an annual fishing quota! It goes on ad nauseum!

Now, lots of us seniors here are on the “17th Fairway” of this run through the roses won’t see the ultimate constriction of this contemporary negativism. For us, by the time the bureaucrats get around to deciding something more draconian, we’ll be putting on the 18th; but how about the grandkids, and their kids?

This, then, is a little spoof on what fishing might look like, saying the trends continue, in the year 2040.

Jim Smith was a fishing nut. He enjoyed coupling the technology of the 2030s with his passion for trying to catch a fish. But even more, he savored the relationship he had with his son, Shimano, and was transferring his passion to the youngster on a regular basis.

Those hours at the cerebral transfer center at the library where special for him. To be able to transfer knowledge, attached to special cables enabling brain wave transmissions was so much easier than learning it the old way, Jim thought. He remembered those long hours of instruction from his Dad out there with a rod in his hand. None of that nonsense these days!

Anyhow, Jim and Shimano were excited about their upcoming fishing allowance day. Depending on the type of license held you were eligible to fish up to four days per month. Jim with his long years of experience and the fact that he never had a fishing violation qualified for an A license — with the max day allowance. The other license types descended in allowance to a single day per month.

Their day came quickly and it was a beautiful morning as they swung by the Fishing Control Station at Caxambas Pass to register and be on with their fishing. The FCS was much like a highway toll booth, where both Jim and Shimano held up their electronic licenses for scanning and paid their daily $50 each fishing fee.

The Fishing Control Officer brought their individual fishing quota records up on his display and said curtly, “Between the both of you the remaining quarterly quota is three snapper, one grouper and two other fish. Make sure you don’t exceed that catch today.”

Jim politely responded “Thanks, officer. We will consider it a banner day if we can catch half of that, but we’ll make sure.”

“Well and good, and just a reminder you have to return to shore via this station or we’ll have the special control team looking for you on the water or at home,” the officer curtly responded.

Jim remembered the old days when just a few beleaguered wildlife officers tried to enforce the fishing law. Not that way anymore since the Green Trust set up a six billion dollar legacy fund to employ and pay state and federal Fishing Control Officers throughout the country. There were now some 150 such officers employed in Southwest Florida alone.

Well, Jim and Shimano were finally out on the briny heading for the best of the fishing spots that were left. Since the early 10s there had been a systematic closure of vast areas of gulf, ocean and backwaters throughout Florida and the rest of the country. The environmentalists, strengthened by the NGW (Non-Global Warming Association), had convinced weak government of the damage associated with recreational fishing and closures were being effected at will.

Frustrated that they had no navigate out into the Gulf to non-closed water through narrow channels, Shimano asked his Dad, “How would they know if we cut across one of these closed areas?”

“Remember, Shimano, you have that chip on your fishing license and the satellite will send an alarm if it finds you in the closure areas. We would have unmanned helicopters and go-fast boats on us immediately.”

Anyhow, it was a nice day and they continued on their way to the first fishing area some 18 miles offshore.

“There it is,” Shimano shouted, pointing at an assemblage of a couple hundred boats just breaking the horizon.

“Not too bad today. I’d say 250 boats. There will be room to get in on the reef,” exclaimed Jim.

Fifteen minutes later, Jim dropped the anchor and they settled in in spot 212 right next to some neighbors and friends. The government had allocated fishing spots on most of the remaining reefs and here on Dumbo Reef there were spots for 300 boats.

Shimano chatted with the neighbors in the boat alongside about a weekend virtual ball game and handed them a soft drink as a good neighbor would.

Jim baited the rods with Preparation D, an artificial bait, that was full of vitamins for the fish and in use since the government outlawed catching shrimp or netting live bait in 2032. They tossed the baits in the blue/green water and they were finally really fishing.

“Sure hope we catch even one or two fish today, Dad. Don’t you?”

“Yep, Shimano. Even a nibble will do it for me. Isn’t the weather just great?”

•••

Species in the Spotlight

Name: Silver Seatrout

In season: Year round.

Florida regulations: None. No size restriction and no bag limit.

Habitat: Found in same conditions as whiting. Large adults about 12-14” long. Look like spotted seatrout without the green color and spots. Fun to catch and as good on the table as the spotted version.

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Capt. Bill Walsh owns an established Marco Island charter fishing business and holds a current U.S. Coast Guard license. Send comments or questions to dawnpatrolcharters@compuserve.com.