I was going to put this story in the boat search thread. But there probally some good stories out there.

The guy I fish with the most is 81 years old. He is just like Quint on the movie Jaws. I could write a book about the things that have happened to us in the 25 years I've fished with him.
One day after limiting out on the Cowlitz, we pulled up to the boat launch and got out. At the top of the launch a game warden comes up and asks Tom if we had any luck. Tom looks at him and says "nope". I looked at Tom and wondered where is this going? The game warden again asked "No luck?" with a doubtful look on his face. Tom says again "Nope" The game warden says "you didn't catch any fish at all"? Tom walks back to the boat and opens up the ice chest for the game warden to look in. Of course there are 4 Steelhead laying there. The game warden gets really pissed and says "I thought you said you didn't have any luck at all!!!!

"Tom just looks at him and says "Wasn't a bit of luck involved!"
He never did check our punch cards

Fishhead5

Mine was up at Sekiu this summer. I had three other folks on the boat with me and I was rigging all of the hooks, identifying which fish we could keep, etc, so that there wouldn't be any problems.

When we put in, there was a boat load of unhappy fishermen on the dock talking to a warden who had their three fish at his feet. These guys wouldn't even make eye contact with us, they were so embarrassed. I told my guests to get ready to be stopped while we were out there, because there was an emphasis patrol going on.

About 2 hours later the wardens pull up next to us and ask to check gear. I start handing them hooks, punchcards, and so on and everything was just fine. I asked them why the boat at the dock got punched. One of the officers said, "They had three blackmouth.", and then, "Can we see you fish?" This was in August, well after the King fishery had closed.

I showed them the 6 fish we had caught, one by one, and I had personally ID'd each fish for retention. I pull out the last one, about an 8lb silver, and one of the wardens say "Uh oh, that's a blackmouth! Somebody's in trouble."

I started to sweat, but then went over the basic fish ID with them, stating differences between king, silvers and pinks, highlighting the features of each on the fish we had in our possession.

The warden then said, "Gotcha!", with a crooked finger in the corner of his mouth. He said that I had given him the best fish ID dissertation he had heard in a long time, and that he had stopped me the weekend before and remembered that I had my ducks in a row then, as well.

I thanks him for the adrenalin dump and told him I hoped that they drew the 12 foot Zodiac on the next windy day, and I got a smile back. They waved, and we were done in less than five minutes.

Andy

This one is less of a funny and more of a groan-inducer that happened to my dad this past spring.

He was out with a friend on the Willamette angling for springers and already had one in the boat. His buddy had to go to work, so Dad cruised him back to the dock. When they got there one of the fish checkers asked Dad how they had done and after finding out that they had indeed caught one asked to to the normal fish inspection (weigh, measure, etc). Dad refused, saying that he wasn't done fishing and that they could check the fish when he was done fishing. The checker insisted, so Dad relented.

While the fish-checker was standing on the dock and Dad was still in the boat, the checker held the burlap bag open for Dad to slide the fish in. As the fish entered the bag it encountered either a weakness in the bags fabric or an outright hole, causing the fish to slide right through the bag and between the boat and the dock. The air bladder must have been empty, as that 20+lb nookie headed for the murky depths of the river in record time.

From what I understand of the events after that had happened two faces went very pale as they lost sight of that silvery streak of salmon.

I did not originate this idea however, several game warden friends got together and were bemoaning the fact that they had noticed a "self-proclaimed" expertise of one game warden in particular regarding cougars. It had caused such a rowl that a 20-20 "spokes person" called the self-proclaimed "expert" and wanted to shoot a segment with this "expert" demonstrating his prowess in tracking and collaring cougars.

The "expert" game warden was to take care of all the arrangements including meals and lodging for a 4 person team since this particular part of Washington State was not even on the map.

Several months would go by and appointments and provisions were put together by the "expert" for the 20-20 crew. The day of reckoning found the game agent geared up with his polished boots pacing in the parking lot awaiting his 15 minutes of fame. But alas no film crew arrived.

Deeply disappointed and dejected the "expert" tried to find solace in a fellow game agent. The "expert" could not understand why the 20-20 crew did not call or even write if they were not going to show. The game warden giving solace to the "expert" simply suggested perhaps they found a biologist with less intimidating credentials to do the shoot.

And I thought firefighters were a tough crowd.

great story fishhead5 I love the ole' timers quick wit. years of experience.