Fishing and the Law – Alaska Style
Canadians who have had the experience of crossing into U.S. territory sometimes receive the impression that American customs and law enforcement officers can be bullies. Possibly. But there are always exceptions.
In 1994 my husband Mike, son Tom and I were vacationing in Alaska. We camped near the town of Haines for a day while waiting for ‘Athabaska’, the ferry that would take us through the passage to Skagway from where we would continue to the famous White Pass. The camp was on the shore of a beautiful bay and Mike could not resist the urge to try his favourite salmon lure in the ‘fishy’ waters.
“Mike”, I said with a smile as he reeled in his first perfect cast, “Don’t forget that we are in Alaska and your license is only valid in B.C.” “I know that”, Mike repled, grinning somewhat sheepishly, “but I’m sure not going to drive back to town for a license to fish for less than an hour. I’ll take my chances. It will be fine. Don’t you worry.”
By this time there were at least a dozen fishermen ranged along the shore trying their luck. The weather was pleasant and in a short while Mike had landed two fine salmon. I relaxed, enjoying the sunshine when suddenly I noticed some commotion and all the fisermen except Mike packed up their gear and left in a hurry, all heading in different directions.
“Mike! What has happened?” I called to me husband. And when we turned around we could see a green vehicle coming down the hill with the bold letters emblazoned on the sides – “Alaska State Department Of The Interior”.
“Oh! Oh!” I whispered to Mike. “Looks like the fish and game ranger!” Now we both understood why everyone left so suddenly.
“Dad, do you think we’ll be fined?” Tom asked, a worried expression on his face.
“Just act normally and be pleasant”, I instructed Tom as a uniformed man in his forties approached us, a friendly smile of welcome on his face.
“Ah! Canucks I see! Welcome to Alaska! What part of Canada are you folks from?” From there the conversation turned to fishing and travel and he complimented Mike on his catch. But no mention of licenses. He wished us a safe and pleasant trip and was soon on his way.
A big weight fell from our hearts because we realized that since Mike was the only one who continued fishing after everyone else had left, the ranger never considered asking Mike for his license.
“Let’s get back to camp”, I suggested. “ I think we’ve stretched our luck far enough for one day.”
“Well, now that I’m at it and we don’t have the Ranger to worry about, I might as well try for one more fish. We are, after all, a family of three.”
In very short order we had six beautiful salmon filets sizzling in our two large skillets. We raised our Martinis in salute. “Skoal!”. We considered our fine dinner to be ‘on the Ranger’ that evening!
Rubrics:
(Potulky po svete) (Príbehy, zážitky) (Príroda) (Spomienky emigrantov) (Z listov čitateľov)
Author:
Year:
People:
(Kruppa Marcella) (Kruppa Mike)
Community, organization or company:
Source document:
(Personal memories) (Slovo z Britskej Kolumbie, č.3, Leto 2008)
Geo Area:
(Alaska) (Heines) (North America) (Skagway) (United States of America) (White Passd) (Yukon)