Ramblings of a Lowcountry Game Warden: A Memoir

Game Wardens

Game Wardens ne of the more colorful old-time game wardens was Lockwood “Locky” Freeman. Many stories about Locky fall into the wellknown “I don’t think I would have told that, if I were you” category . But there are kinder, gentler stories as well. For as long as I can remember, Locky did his patrols in an eighteen-foot Glassmaster with a 140-horsepower engine. He customized his boat in the interest of comfort by installing an automobile bucket seat behind the steering wheel. Assigned to the boating division, he worked long hours and wrote lots of tickets. His chief focus was enforcing boating-safety laws, but he had no aversion to enforcing hunting and fishing regulations. I could call him at any time of the day or night—even on his day off or holidays—and he would come without complaint or excuse if I needed him. I can still hear his gravelly voice calling for me over the radio, “Nine-two- five to B-four.” Locky had the great good fortune to be able to take most of his cases to the long-serving East Cooper magistrate Paul Foster, his brotherin -law. Judge Foster would from time to time feel called upon to rap his gavel and scold Locky because he was wearing his cap in the courtroom. Locky would just sigh, give the judge his “twis mout” look (a local expression describing a grim countenance or appearance of consternation) and slowly remove his cap. The judge occasionally had to call Locky to task for providing loud commentary while a bench trial was taking place. I remember patrolling the Rockville Regatta with Locky back in the early 1980s. We were each in his own patrol boat, and there was a huge amount of boating activity around the spectator fleet anchored in Bohicket o 214 Ramblings of a Lowcountry Game Warden Creek between the Sea Island Yacht Club dock and the sandbar just opposite it. It didn’t take long to spot violations, and I began to issue a number of tickets. Word got over to Locky that the new game warden was writing practically everybody who came by. He eventually found me, took me aside, and cautioned me about being “too rough.” His philosophy was that the people were there to have a good time, and as long as they didn’t do anything too blatantly stupid or dangerous, it was best just to keep an eye out for the really bad things. Unfortunately some years later the situation at the Rockville Regatta got so out of hand that the usual shenanigans could no longer be overlooked, and the officers of the Sea Island Yacht Club, of which I was a former commodore, asked the Wildlife Department for stricter enforcement on the larger and increasingly unruly crowds. The Rockville Regatta is perhaps now better known for its status as a floating cocktail party than for its challenging boat races. From late May and into July, Locky and I periodically walked the beach at night on Capers Island to watch the loggerhead turtles come out of the surf and crawl up the beach to dig nests in which to deposit their eggs. It With South Carolina game warden Lockwood “Locky” Freeman, observing a loggerhead turtle digging a hole for egg laying on Capers Island Game Wardens 215 was a powerful sight, and it would be difficult to describe my feelings on seeing the reenactment of an event that has gone on for millions of years. Usually never lacking in his descriptive outbursts, Locky became totally speechless as we gazed on those marvelous spectacles of nature. There was a persistent problem during the turtle-nesting season with poachers invading the deserted stretches of the barrier islands and gathering large numbers of freshly laid turtle eggs to supply a variety of exotic markets . Locky and I kept a close eye on boat traffic around the inlets during the nesting season. Other than their use in making moist cakes, the eggs had a reputation in some communities for improving a man’s sexual prowess, and they were served as bar snacks at juke joints and “sweet shops” all along the coast. The wildlife department frequently employed African American officers as undercover agents to gain entrance to those establishments and ask if there were any turtle eggs they could have with their beer. At one point...