The people you meet on fishing trips

I've had some compelling clients since starting my fishing guide business five years ago. One, Jerry, was Willie Nelson's bus driver for 20 years. Another, a Harvard grad who works with AI security to, in her words, "make sure it's used for good." I've had cops, firefighters, ER doctors and a Bay Area rap music producer. But one of my favorites has been Jim Zobel, an 88-year-old retired California Fish and Wildlife captain. Jim first came aboard in June for a trip with his son Stephen on Folsom Lake. Jim has trouble walking, and his posture has seen better days, but his voice is still strong and resonates, his eyes are lively, his mind still quick to grasp whatever it's presented with – be it a fishing rod bent by a hard-fighting 8-pound salmon or a surprised follow-up question from me after he casually mentioned working with Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch in the '80s. Huh? Exactly. Jim grew up loving the outdoors, especially hunting, and he knew from an early age he wanted to be a game warden. Competition in that field was strong, so Jim thought he'd bolster his résumé with a law enforcement background. In 1963, he became a CHP officer. It worked. By 1969, he was commissioned. But his first assignment was not exactly what comes to mind when you think of wildlife law. "I was assigned to the Ferry Building in San Francisco." Turns out it was a point of entry for a robust but often-illegal trade in exotic animals. Was he disappointed he was working in a big city rather than tromping through mountains tracking down poachers? "No. I was just anxious to get into the field, period. And," he added, "I enjoyed the exotics." In fact, Jim's work with them would lead to career-long connections with legally-operated exotic animal groups and rescues throughout California. Visiting one such rescue once, he received an all-too-literal warm welcome from a new resident: "A baby mountain lion walked up and peed on my shoe." Because movies sometimes require an exotic animal or two – and permits and licenses are required – Jim's job eventually meant developing relationships with Hollywood animal trainers. It was that work which led Jim to Jackson's Neverland Ranch. "He had, of all things, elephants." And, "He had a fantastic facility built for them." Yep. For all of Jackson's documented weirdness, Jim says not only was the animal portion of the ranch run properly, it was so well run he worked out an agreement with the ranch's managers: Whenever he had an exotic animal that had been confiscated – or even, say, an orphaned baby deer that needed care, "Jackson's ranch was it." Did Jim ever meet Michael? "No," he laughs. "He was kept at a distance." Eventually, Jim's job did lead to work in the Great Outdoors, or "The Field" as he called it. Sometimes, that field was the ocean. Jim worked a patrol boat off California's coast monitoring commercial fishing vessels … the crews of which could be, um, salty. "You had to be careful jumping from a patrol boat onto a commercial boat. I did it one time and a guy came at me with a gaff hook." But Jim says he "drew quicker" than the deckhand could swing and "everything calmed down real quick." I bet it did. It's impossible to sum up a career, much less a life, in roughly 900 words. Jim was married to his wife, Virginia, for 67 years. She passed away in 2024. They raised three children, including a daughter who, early on, faced several physical challenges that, in the early 1960s, had some doctors suggesting she be committed. But Jim said, "You could see there was more there … she was extremely intelligent." Remember that CHP job Jim got in 1963? He was assigned to Palo Alto, where he and Virginia had their daughter seen by doctors at Stanford. "They were able to see the problem right away." How is she now? "Great. Graduated from Sac State with honors, has a couple kids of her own." And through it all, he made a career of his dream job, eventually rising to the rank of CDFW captain. Along the way, he busted poachers ("I enjoyed catching these people believed to be 'uncatchable."). He had brushes with organized crime involved in the San Francisco seafood trade, including an arranged meeting with one particular boss. When I asked why he agreed to meet, he explained, "Because then I knew what I was workin' with." Once he became a captain, he often worked with lawmakers helping craft wildlife-oriented bills. "I was always working with a legislator or another on some problem." And, of course, he dropped off the occasional animal-in-need at Michael Jackson's ranch. I love a good pun or turn of phrase, so while writing this, I've tried hard to think of some Jackson songs or lyrics I could weave into this story. But I ain't that clever. "Rock with You" and "Billie Jean" just don't seem to have much in common with an 88-year-old gentleman who spent much of his life protecting and managing California's wildlife. But, there is a line from one of Jackson's songs, "Man In The Mirror," that goes, "If you wanna make the world a better place/Take a look at yourself/Then make a change." It's a beautiful sentiment, and people like Jim are proof that it's true.