Behind the Badge - Stuck Between a Hook and a Hard Place
Stuck Between a Hook and a Hard Place
District Game Warden Gage Muench
Many seasoned anglers have found themselves in the uncomfortable situation of having a fishing lure end up where they least anticipated.
More specifically lodged on their own limb or appendage or an angling companion.
During the summer of 2023, I got to experience a new take on one of the situations.
It started out looking like a typical day patrolling Lake Ashtabula preforming boating and fishing compliance checks.
When I arrived at the Ashtabula Crossing boat access, I observed several boats nearby and a group of anglers at the fish cleaning station.
While looking over the boats on Lake Ashtabula, I noticed one to be displaying expired registration stickers.
I decided to keep tabs on the boat while preforming fishing checks on the anglers at the cleaning station.
The group of anglers were great to deal with and had no violations present.
While chatting with the group post compliance check, I noticed the boat displaying expired registration pulling up to the dock.
Before I knew it, the owner of the boat was walking toward us.
I was expecting an acknowledgment of the expired registration and a reason for it.
What happened next caught me slightly off guard.
The gentleman held up his hand showing a crankbait deeply imbedded in one of his fingers.
He looked at me and the group of anglers standing nearby.
The gentleman asked if anyone could help him get the bait out of his hand.
I looked up to find all eyes looking at me as a source of expertise in hook removal from human appendages.
I told the gentleman the first thing we need to do is get the treble hook removed from the Flicker Shad.
One of the anglers at the fish cleaning station grabbed a pliers out his boat.
We were able to get the treble hook worked free from the split ring and crankbait.
With just the treble hook remaining, I told the gentleman there are three options from here on out.
Option one, he goes to the emergency room and gets it removed.
Option two, we push the hook though and crimp the barb to back it out.
Option three, try a method of hook removal I have never actually attempted but have read about.
Due to the angle of the hook in his finger, I told the gentleman I did not believe pushing the hook shank through would work.
That left either a trip to the ER or my experimental option three in play.
I prefaced the situation by informing the gentleman option three would end in one of two ways.
Either the hook would be removed from his finger near seamlessly or it would cause significant pain.
The gentleman wanted me to give option three a try.
This would involve a loop of fishing line, down pressure, a sudden jerk, and a little luck.
One of the anglers from the fish cleaning station found a roll of braided fishing line.
I removed a segment of the braided fishing line.
I asked the gentleman with the hook in his hand once more if he was okay with me going through with this method and he agreed.
I applied down pressure on the hook with one hand as I gave the hook a sharp yank via the fishing line with my other.
Half to my surprise the treble hook popped out almost effortlessly.
The gentleman stated he hardly even felt the hook come out.
The crowd of onlookers gave a brief applause.
One of them made a joking comment about a medical bill coming in the mail.
I took the opportunity to make a joking comment of my own.
I asked the gentleman about the expired registration on his boat which was now loaded on a trailer with assistance of a couple of the anglers from the fish cleaning station.
Nearly all the anglers and the gentleman who owned the boat looked at me in disbelief.
The gentleman told me the boat was currently registered, but the registration sticker was a few miles away at home.
I let everyone sit there in a few seconds of suspense before telling the gentleman he would be receiving a verbal warning on the fail to display current registration.
I told the gentleman he had a rough enough afternoon and to be sure to affix his new registration stickers as soon as he gets home.
There was as a collective sigh and laugh from the anglers.
Just another small example of how unpredictable a day as a game warden can be.
I wouldn’t trade it for anything.