It’s Fishing Season

And with that comes the cautionary tale of Fish and Game Warden Terry Grosz, who took his job very seriously. From 1966 to 1970 Grosz worked as a fish and game warden in California before he was hired by the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, Bureau of Sports Fisheries and Wildlife. Grosz entered the Fish and Wildlife Service as a game management agent, soon becoming Special Agent. During a stakeout in California, he busted an illegal snagging boat after being reeled in from the Eel River, where he had been waiting in a wetsuit.

Terry Grosz

His enforcement method of operation was that he’d go out on a moonless night wearing a wetsuit and lower himself into the water. The fishermen were snagging salmon so the treble hooks slid along the surface. He’d slap the lure with his glove, and when it was caught, he let himself float and tugged on the line so the fisherman thought he had hooked a 100+ pound salmon. Once he was finally up to the shore, he turned a flashlight on in the guy’s face and walked out of the water, saying “good morning, gentlemen. State fish and game warden, you’re under arrest.”

At this point, the guy who had reeled him in had literally fallen over in shock, and the other people with him were scared shitless. The warden whipped some citations out of a plastic bag in his wetsuit, made the trespassers sign them, asked if they had any questions, and then gathered all of their fishing gear. And he just. Walked back into the river. And quietly swam away, without another word.

He wrote books about his experiences.





There were 3 guys stranded on a deserted Island. An American, a Frenchman, and a Russian. Every day they would fish for their meals. One day they caught a magical golden fish.The fish said, “If you let me go I will grant each of you 2 wishes”.The American said, ” Well heck, give me a million dollars and send me Home!!” POOF, he was gone. The Frenchman said, “Give me 3 women and send me home!!” He vanished in a cloud of light and smoke just like the American had. The Russian really enjoyed their company and said, “I really liked those Guys. Give me 3 cases of Vodka and get those 2 Guys Back!”


Camping in Florida


Sea Shanty (of a sort)

In this case, it’s not song. Not exactly. I’m sticking to the tooth, the whole tooth, and nothing but the tooth. Today owning something like this is a crime in some states. It’s a Scrimshaw whale’s tooth with a boisterous scene of drinking sailors sitting around a punch bowl. Some revelers hold bottles in their hands, others scoop drinks from the bowl, and the ground around them is littered with bottles, swords and guns.  Clearly the sailors are insufficiently woke, but they might fit in with this blog’s readers seamlessly.


Boat Tour

Caveat: I am not a “tour” person, where I find joy in grouping together with a dozen or more belching tourists and being herded around by some moron playing the part of a sheep dog. If I want to see something, I usually drive, fly, etc. to the location and hire some local person to haul me around and explain what it is that I’m seeing.

But this is cool-

Odysseia Boat Tour, Nidri Harbor, Lefkada, Greece.

Yes, I know that it’s just a themed motor boat, plying the waters in and around Nidri Harbor. These things usually are run in conjunction with some drinks and snacks.



    • I’d do that one in a HEARTBEAT! That sounds like a lot of fun. I don’t count barefoot cruises like that one as “cruise ships”. The price looks to be reasonable as well.

      The traditional cruise ships appeal to people – floating hotel and all that. I’ve done two, neither one had much attraction and I have no intention of doing another.

      • Us too, if’n we ever decide to travel to such a place to get on board. Went to St. Croix, fun, but not again, besides the wrecked rentals because vacationers can’t adjust to driving on the opposite side of the road. Cruise Ships? Never…too many of the General Public crammed into one place, not our cup of tea. I mean, while it “looks” good, I have a moral problem with shooting trap off the back of a ship, or hitting golf balls into the ocean…but this is what patrons consider acceptable.

  1. Game Warden’s– some – not all, are a lot like the gestapo building officials, make laws then force you to comply. While game reg’s are needed as population expands and so does the criminal poacher element, I have a problem with certain game warden practices…sneaking up on people to catch them in the act, or treating a guy fishing like he’s automatically a criminal until proven otherwise, and/or confiscating everything they own associated with the outdoor pursuit, gives authorities way to much power. I mostly have met good warden’s, and theirs is a tough job, but I think the system needs an overhaul.

    If things get weirder and more lawlessness occurs for the actual criminals without consequence, and I need to feed my family and even Schwan’s won’t deliver because we’re not vax’d, I won’t hesitate to fill the freezer.

  2. Camping in Florida: I once had a patient — let’s call him Dave — who spent summers in the upper Midwest and winters in Florida. He was a housing-challenged man of at least 10 years standing. So much for his white privilege. Anyway, he was pleasant, personable and a talker. For some reason felt compelled to give me tips on how to live homeless in Florida. (I hope this is not foreshadowing.) He had advice on where to sleep to avoid being rousted by the police (annoying but not dangerous), and how to avoid being preyed upon random drug addicts (occasionally dangerous) and by gangs of “youths” (often dangerous).

    Dave’s preference was to sleep among the landscaping of suburban shopping malls. He impressed on me the importance of having something against your back and recommended low, dense shrubbery.
    “So people can’t see you?” I asked.
    “Well, that too, but I was thinking of alligators,” quoth Dave.
    “Yeah. One night I was out at [some mall], under some trees, but basically in the open. It got cold, like the 50’s. I woke up with something against my back. It was an alligator! Longer than I was, so I figure at least 6-7 feet. I think it was up against me for warmth.”
    “What’d you do?”
    “It was asleep so I crept away real quietly. Didn’t even pick up my blanket or pack. I figured I’d go back for it later once the gator left. Those things can run really fast for short distances you know!”
    “What was an alligator doing in a mall parking lot?”
    “Oh, they got those water-filled ditches at the edges of the parking lots everywhere. You’d be surprised what’s in some of them. Anyways, that’s why I sleep with my back against the bushes. I think the gators don’t like getting tangled up in them.”

    Also, Warden Grosz = Legend

  3. The world would be quite different now if any of Hunter’s escapades had made major news before the election, let alone him being actually charged for any of a thousand violations.

    As to camping, well, same everywhere. In North California and places, it’s mountain lions. Elsewhere it’s bears, wolves and coyotes. Other other places it’s two-legged coyotes and drug smugglers. And, well, never camp right next to water. Bad things come from water.

  4. SLW enjoys cruises, but I loathe them. The only “cruise” I was interested in was an Alaskan one, with only 100 people on the ship.


    Oh, well….she doesn’t care for camping, either, unless it’s at a resort. And that’s NOT camping!

  5. It was a time when whale bone and teeth were plentiful; every jacktar, his artistic ability not withstanding, tried his hand at scrimshaw.

    A friend had an uncarved whale tooth. Upon his request, I took a dashing photograph of his home under full canvas. He presented that pjoto to an engraver who fashioned several belt buckles and small plaque. Those became favored keepsakes in his family.

    In and about Morro Bay, CA, there was a fish cop something like that. Perhaps he had known of Grosz’ style. The complaints against him became so numerous that he was reassigned to the Yosemite area. I actually came across him while hiking the hills. He tried to disarm me via his interpretation of the law. To my delight he was utterly shocked when I called him the nickname we had for him back on the coast. He ended up scampering off. After nearly a decade he did reappear in Morro but he was a changed man. Perhaps he then considered finishing his career more important than writing infractions.

    They who board for the booze cruise are not of my tribe. Mingling with strangers (‘friends we haven’t met yet’) while spilling watered down drinks. Suckers.

  6. It’s a nice tour boat – going for the “local color” at least shows some imagination.


  7. I went visit an Army buddy, Vic, in Northern Nevada about a million years ago.
    Lynx pelts were bringing $400-$500. Coyote pelts were also in demand, but not in the same league as the lynx pelts.
    Vic was supplementing his ranch income and protecting his calves by trapping.
    He was telling me about a fellow who lived up near the Idaho border who lived like a cowboy/mountain man and hunted and trapped way off of the beaten track.
    He was impressed that he was pretty much living like he was in the 1800s.
    His name was Claude Dallas.
    Dallas killed a couple of game wardens who had traveled quite a ways to check up on him.
    The senior game warden was not known for his tact; as in “We can do this the hard way or the easy way” while putting his hand on his pistol.
    The locals said the jury would have acquitted Dallas citing defense if he had not fetched his .22 rifle from his tent to “pay the insurance”.
    Dallas dramatically evaded his initial arrest and then escaped from prison after his conviction.
    If I remember correctly he was captured several years later in SFO.
    A strange place in which mountain man would choose to hide.
    I owned the book about him and the incident, but I loaned it to someone.
    Last time I checked the books were going for $200 used.

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