The fish then leaped high into the air, a silver beauty of about 19 or 20 inches. After a few minutes, the fish finally came to hand long enough for release, and I thought that was the end of that, a pleasant memory, nothing more. I had told no one and to the best of my knowledge, had been alone. This is a perfect anecdote to illustrate the risks of poaching fish in Maine. That's something to think about as we finish up the ice-fishing season and then head to open water.
Maine is no longer the wild frontier.
Probing eyes are everywhere, and electronic gadgets are common. These days, poaching fish is a fool's game, which leads into a topic. If there is honor among thieves, there is also honor among poachers. They feel anyone who participates in either activity is stupid because game wardens have all the advantages in combating these two crimes. Wardens can easily hide in the bushes and watch anglers, and also, they can see jack lights from great distances at night.