Up until the late 1970s, grouper digging off Florida's "left coast" was a sheer joy. On several occasions, I can remember returning to Port Tarpon Marina in Tarpon Springs and triumphantly offloading hundreds of pounds of large gag grouper. (In those days we were all "meat fishermen," selling our catches and lavishly supporting our offshore fishing avocation. None of us harbored any thoughts of depleting what seemed like a never ending cornucopia of fat grouper.) The small group of anglers who took the time and trouble to learn how to fish for the gags were the ones who invariably drew a crowd with each return to the dock.

In those days, when another boat would venture close to where you were fishing, there would be no cause for alarm whatsoever. As a matter of fact one might be inclined to invite the other angler over. With additional bait in the water, more grouper would be chummed to the spot. There was also the peace of mind knowing that the probability of that fellow in the other boat or you, for that matter, ever locating the precise ledge or rock pile again was quite minimal.

Each fishing trip was truly a challenge. An angler would head out in a selected direction and ride for the desired amount of time. Then, often for no reason in particular, he'd slow down and start looking around. Frequently, he might come across a small cluster of boats, and decide that "these fellas could be onto something." Chances are all of them thought the same thing of each other, and may very well have been anchored over rather undistinguished bottom.

Back then, fishing was more a game of skill. Anglers determined to get back to a prime fishing hole ran precisely timed courses in order to find that magical set of fish producing rocks. Many would pull planers fitted with spoons and all kinds of different plugs. They'd troll until a grouper was enticed to strike the bait.

Still others became adept at reading chart recorders and the color of the water, even using their sense of smell... developing an uncanny ability to find some well-structured bottom and, of course, the fish. Most of those people kept copious notes as to sea and weather conditions, time of year, phase of the moon, and a complete inventory of the fish landed, with notations on the bait used. All of these anglers... those who applied themselves... seemed to enjoy a high percentage of success. Then came the advent of the inexpensive loran establishing a whole new set of bottom fishing rules.

Nowadays, virtually every boat is equipped with a loran, creating a whole new ball game. Today all anyone needs is a book of loran numbers for some prime Gulf of Mexico real estate to be a reasonably successful grouper digger. Using an uncannily accurate loran or now the new GPS, it is a simple matter to run to the coordinates, locate that specific ledge or rock on the recorder, and find fish. Sadly, many don't have the discipline to resist that temptation to keep "hammering" a productive spot until it cries uncle. They will go back week after week and clean out every fish that inhabits the structure.

Now, putting still more pressure on these delicate habitats, there has surfaced a more recent and devastating grouper fishing tactic. It's called "Loraning" or with today's latest electronic standard, "GPS-ing. "In all probability, that secret honey hole you located and tried to keep to yourself has been, or will be, compromised by this technique. It is quite easy to perform. One simply rides by an anchored vessel, notes the loran coordinates, writes them down, and discretely cruises on. Some make absolutely no pretense of even being that subtle. They ride right up alongside your vessel, stop, hit the "Memory" button, and the numbers are instantly recorded in their electronic memory bank.

Thanks to a burgeoning marine electronics industry, there are now available new electronic goodies to enhance this questionable breach of Gulf ethics. For example, most radars provide accurate distance and bearing to any target. Many current loran and GPS units have programs that can compute this distance and bearing to any information from a known position - your current location - and will provide the actual coordinates of that target. Thus, the operator is not even required to go anywhere near an anchored vessel to abscond with it's precious numbers. Thus, this technique can be so discrete that the victim hasn't a clue that his spot has been compromised!

There is also a non-electronic way that your can be compromised. It's what I call "The Good Buddy Syndrome." Here's how that scenario unfolds. George is one of your best friends. You hesitate at first, then rationalize that "he's okay." So you share a coordinate or two with your buddy. "George, you're the only one I'm giving these numbers to. Whatever you do, don't give then to anyone else." Isn't that approximately what you said in your magnanimous gesture? At the risk of sounding cynical, there unfolds, without your knowledge, an additional chapter to this parable. As Paul Harvey might say, now let's hear the rest of the story!"

It is some weeks now since you provided George with these treasured digits. He's been out to the spot a couple of times and absolutely tore 'em up. He too, can't resist the temptation to be kind to another buddy. So good old George shares the wealth. In this instance, his friend happens to be a valued customer at his wholesale lumberyard. "Maybe," George rationalizes, "if I fix up Roy with a good honey hole, he'll place a big order for 2-by-4s. Besides, "ol' Roy hardly ever goes fishing, so he won't fish out the rocks." The clincher is when George concludes that Roy doesn't know you, so even if you find him on your spot, you'll never know he got the numbers from your mutual friend, George.

In order to ease his conscience and ensure the loran reading does not get wider circulation, George calls Roy and admonishes him "not to give these number to anybody." Good luck George! It probably will be no more than a month or two before an army of people have these coordinates. The treasured "glory hole" that you shared with George winds up on one of those widely circulated computer printouts of "secret" loran numbers. It is a mass duplication, and your "private spot" is available to anglers all up and down the Florida Suncoast.

This aggravating exercise has become such a trend that some smart skippers shy away from loran use. In recent years, they have voluntarily returned to the old way of doing things. They take a heading, look around, find structure and start fishing. Most savvy party boat and charter skippers, commercial fishermen and experienced anglers will fish a spot, then let it rest for a while. Many go to loran coordinates just as a starting point for their explorations. They work the area looking for nearby ledges and other structure. Often they do much better at these newly found locations.

A friend of mine, Capt Bobby Buswell loves to put out the planers and troll the last mile or two before he reaches the destination coordinates. Frequently Bobby never makes it, locating a big active stack of fish long before he ever reaches his intended spot. Surprisingly, many of these folks are catching more fish than when they rely on loran or GPS alone. Best of all, they are doing less damage to the grouper resource that all of us treasure so dearly. This is truly a fun and sportsmanlike way to bottom fish. In my humble opinion, it is infinitely more satisfying than "fishing by the numbers."