By hook or by crook

Having been under lockdown in the District of Columbia for some two months now, my son and I entertained the notion of sneaking off to do a little fishing at some lonely stream in Virginia, where social distancing is the norm, at least if you don’t want to hook, or be hooked by, your fellow fishermen. But before we could cast a line, there was the question of whether we needed a fishing license. Soon, we were tangled in legalese as frustrating as a reel’s worth of knotted, 8-pound test.

We wouldn’t think of plunking a lure in a lake without observing the permit niceties, and that was before security guards were posted in my neighborhood park to ensure that no one risked exposure to the coronavirus by walking across the empty baseball field. If the Great Hunkering has taught me anything, it is that the authorities — whether president, governor, mayor, or acting deputy assistant school board chairman — have powers over my person I would have never imagined possible. Who am I to say whether the epidemiology they’re enforcing is sound? After all, I’m no virologist. But one thing I do know: When the law is locking up people for cutting hair, it’s a bad idea to go fishing without a license.

Which led me to the Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries website, with its detailed information about who needs a fishing permit, where, when, and of what sort. It was more complicated than I had imagined.

Simple enough was the concept that residents of the state pay less than outsiders. But who counts as a resident? The first definition was straightforward: someone living in the state “for six consecutive months immediately preceding the date of application for license.” The second was rather less clear: “persons who have been domiciliary residents of the state for at least two months upon approval of a completed affidavit to be furnished by the Game Department.”

This affidavit business seems at odds with the next qualification: Legal voters in Virginia count as residents. Which raises the question: How do you prove you’re a legal voter? Thanks to recent legislation in the commonwealth, a photo ID is no longer required to vote in Virginia. So, how can one be required to show proof of being a registered voter to buy a resident fishing permit? Wouldn’t that be angler suppression?

There are a dozen or so exceptions of people who don’t need licenses at all. Among them are members of the military on leave, American Indians who “habitually” reside on a reservation, and “stockholders owning 50 percent or more of the stock of any domestic corporation owning land in Virginia, his or her spouse and children and minor grandchildren, resident or nonresident,” who are free to “fish within the boundaries of lands and inland waters owned by the domestic corporation.”

If you are in Virginia but on National Forest lands, you need not only a Virginia fishing license but a National Forest permit to fish. That rule, however, does not apply if you are on the north or south fork of the Shenandoah, the James River, Skidmore Lake in Rockingham County, North Fork Pound Reservoir, Lake Moomaw, the Jackson River below Gathright Dam, or in Wilson Creek, as long as you are below Douthat Lake and in Alleghany or Bath counties. Those particular exceptions, however, only apply to “residents under 16 and over 65, and nonresidents under 16.”

In other words, someday, when I’m 65 or older, I will be able to fish the Jackson River downstream from Gathright Dam as long as I can prove I’m the majority shareholder in a corporation that owns the stretch of riverbank where I’m standing. Is that right? I don’t know. Perhaps, first, I should consult with an attorney who specializes in the intricacies of Virginia Trout Acquisition Law.

Eric Felten is the James Beard Award-winning author of How’s Your Drink?

Related Content