In a state with confusing boat laws, Venice 'water Nazi' just doing his job
By PAUL QUINLAN



paul.quinlan@heraldtribune.com

VENICE -- Supervisors call Tim Erickson a model officer and his 26-year record patrolling Venice's waterways exemplary.

But to countless boaters across the United States who congregate on the Internet to swap names of the best waterfront cities in which to drop anchor, the 56-year-old Florida Fish and Wildlife officer is referred to in unflattering terms, including "water Nazi," "Barney Fife" and "that power drunk moron in a uniform."

One Web site devoted to boaters in Southeastern states, cruisersnet.net, published an article titled "How to avoid the Venice water cop." It describes Erickson as someone who "seems to take his duties quite literally, and his approach leaves no room for discussion."

As the peak of the tourist season nears, these cruisers have deluged City Hall with complaints that Erickson preys on them, harassing them over licenses, registrations and paperwork.

The truth: Erickson rigidly enforces what many water-borne officers either do not understand or ignore -- the Florida law that requires all boats show state registration, regardless of where they hail from.

Erickson's prying has flushed out one tax cheat after another, helping the Department of Revenue recover hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid, 6 percent sales taxes on expensive yachts, liners and speedboats. Over the past three years, he has written an average of 255 tickets per year. He plays rainmaker to tax investigators like John Isaacs, who shot a letter to Erickson's boss last year praising him for a single tip that netted $23,000 in unpaid taxes.

"Tim can pretty much guarantee you a couple leads a month," Isaacs said in a recent interview. "The other ones? You get, maybe, a couple a year."

Boaters do not share Isaacs' enthusiasm.

Their complaints to the city include threats of a boycott coupled with reminders of the thousands of dollars a cruiser might spend on a single overnight stop for fuel, dinner and downtown shopping.

"That jerk is simply obsessed with checking registrations and he's dam \[sic\] rude about it," wrote one boater who said he was pulled over three times in six years, always by Erickson. "The last time was in April and that will be the last time."

The sheer volume of written outrage caught the mayor's attention, who asked state delegates to intervene and see that Erickson receives "corrective counseling."

Business owners hesitate to criticize Erickson, though they know him well.

"He's not good for business, but I've never said stop," said Steve Harner, whose dockside restaurant, the Crow's Nest, depends on boat traffic. "He's doing his job. Is he doing it more diligently than I'd like? Well, maybe."

But the eager, white-haired Erickson shrugs off the controversy. A former beat cop in the rough neighborhoods of east Bradenton, Erickson says he joined the water patrol after his wife, fearing for his safety, filled out the application and threatened divorce if he did not sign.

"When you're operating in Florida, you've gotta play by our rules," Erickson said.

Complex and arcane law

Few understand the rules as well as Erickson.

On the job, he carries a black duffel bag full of legal volumes, which he refers to during stops. He can point at a statute and elaborate on court precedent. He has discussed the finer points with his daughter, who attends Georgetown Law School.

"This issue many times falls into one simple category: taxes," Erickson said. "Folks just don't want to pay the taxes on these boats."

Although no one has estimated how much Florida loses in unpaid sales taxes on boats, the figure is believed to number in the tens of millions.

Of the 18 million recreational boats in the United States, 5 million are not registered, according to 2005 industry statistics.

In 2004, Florida registered 946,000 boats, or 7 percent of the national total. Based on the national statistics, officials estimate that 368,000 unregistered boats roam state waters.

In Florida, that is against the law. The statutes say all boats must be registered in some state, even if they hail from a state where registration of some boats is optional, such as Virginia, Tennessee and the Carolinas. Most states, including Florida, will register a boat for a small fee.

An out-of-state registration affords a boater 90 days to cruise Florida. A warning ticket for someone who comes from a state where it is not required gives them two weeks to register or leave.

But after citing a boater whose state does require registration, Erickson will report it to tax authorities and an investigation will ensue.

The law is complex and arcane, so much so that agencies in the region often call on Erickson to train new hires.

"Most people are just not aware of it," Isaacs said. "So Tim's like an educator and an enforcer."

A lecture and a warning

Weeks after shoving off from North Carolina, Dennis and Denise Brewster steered their 36-foot Seafarer into Venice, planning to visit the post office and dock overnight.

Erickson greeted them. On that warm, sunny Tuesday, they tied up at Higel Marine Park and followed Erickson to a picnic table in the shade. The table was set with a 2-inch-thick book of Florida statutes, a ticket pad and pages of federal codes, covered in highlighter and pen marks.

Erickson dons his glasses and tells them up front: They will only receive a warning ticket, since their state does not require registration.

Before they arrived, the grandfatherly officer predicted they would appreciate his explanation of the law.

Naturally, they do not.

"Now, here's where it gets confusing," Erickson announces minutes into an uninterrupted monologue. "And I'm going to go slow here, so stop me if you get confused."

Dennis, a retired substance abuse counselor with a shaved head, barrel chest and goatee, is becoming visibly unnerved. Denise taps her husband on the leg. "Ask him where this is going, honey," she says.

Erickson plows ahead and Dennis begins to rock back and forth, hands clenched. Erickson flips pages and points to statutes. Dennis occasionally interjects: "Well, I'm not so sure about that."

The conversation ends with Erickson handing them a warning ticket and the Brewsters threatening to call their senator.

"We pay our taxes. We register our boat. We follow the law," Dennis said afterward.

Florida Fish and Wildlife has received nine complaints about Erickson since 2002, though none were substantiated, according to Davis, Erickson's supervisor.

"Yes, we have received complaints about him, and I can say probably 100 percent of those complaints were unfounded," said Capt. Calvin Davis, supervisor of FFWCC's southwest region. "He's been very good, as far as letting people know about the law, and he's very up on it."

For people like the Brewsters who are unaware of the state law but can prove ownership and residence in a state where registration is optional, Erickson said he never writes more than a warning ticket.

"That way, I've given them the opportunity to resolve this problem," Erickson said. "And I've shown the government I do my job. I'm not just sitting in a doughnut shop."