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Mark Freeman Commentary Jailed for trying to snag a chinook Robert "Matt" Martin strolled into a Jackson County courtroom Oct. 19 expecting to walk out a little poorer, but free. Caught for illegally attempting to snag a Rogue River spring chinook salmon at dusk from a closed stretch of water near Cole Rivers Hatchery, Martin first pleaded guilty. He then expected Circuit Court Judge Ray White to treat his latest illegal fishing case much like previous game convictions. "I figured he�d give me a little slap on the wrist, a fine and send me on my way," Martin says. "Just like last time." But things quickly went awry for this 23-year-old White City man labeled a "frequent customer" by fish and wildlife officers. When White called him a "game pig" for his fishing transgressions, Martin realized this was not to be his day. "I thought, God, I don�t know what kind of day the judge was having or who pissed him off," Martin says. "But it ended with me." When it ended, Martin found himself with a new address for the next three months and the ignominious identity as the new poster boy for why Rogue Valley anglers should obey fishing laws. White sentenced Martin to 90 days in the county jail for attempting to foul-hook a salmon in the hatchery�s outflow channel where fishing is banned. Martin is now serving his sentence at the Jackson County Community Justice Work Center in Phoenix, cleaning garbage off the highways by day and spending the rest of his time in an orange jumpsuit behind locked doors. He�s lost his freedom. He�s lost his job as a plasterer and he�s lost his home � a room in a White City trailer that his former roommate now has up for sale. And all, Martin says, over trying to snag one lousy chinook. "I don�t think I deserved it," Martin says in an interview from the corrections center. "There are people in here for moving drugs who are doing less time than me. "I know it was wrong what I did," Martin says. "But I lost my home, my job, everything. I�ll be lucky to get out of here by Christmas." But to police and prosecutors who are tired of people like Martin treating Oregon�s fish and wildlife like their own private toys, Martin�s 90-day sentence is greeted with great cheer. "I was very impressed with the sentence," says Dave Hoppe, a deputy district attorney who prosecuted Martin. "It was very unusual. We don�t get that on many felonies. "Matt Martin," Hoppe says, "has been a bad boy." Martin had a bad-boy image well before his latest brush with police. With a long record of wildlife and criminal cases, he is well-known to fish and wildlife officers across the county. Martin already had a suspended fishing license when he and friend Matt Bray, 19, spent a frustrating and fruitless day fishing for spring chinook on the upper Rogue. Martin says the pair then headed back to an area just below the hatchery, where spring chinook lie in a shallow channel where water flows out of the hatchery and into the Rogue. The area is closed to all fishing and posted. But the pair chose to ignore the law so they wouldn�t go home empty-handed. "We were just barely on the illegal side," Martin says. "I just figured, a couple casts, and maybe (we would) get one." OSP Trooper Bob Mayfield was watching as Martin snagged a salmon in the stomach and Bray tried to grab it, according to police reports. When Martin spied Mayfield headed toward them, Martin eluded capture by swimming the Rogue and taunting Mayfield, the OSP report states. Bray was captured, cited and eventually fined. But Martin remained free until OSP Senior Trooper Pat McNeilly found Martin Sept. 8 in a car during what McNeilly called an illegal hunting expedition along Antelope Creek. Police cited Martin for angling while suspended and attempting to foul-hook salmon. They are both Class A misdemeanors punishable by up to a $5,000 fine and a year in county jail. But fines of $250 or so are considered common. That�s what Martin expected when he went to White�s courtroom, pleaded guilty and waited for his wrist-slap. But White, who has a history of taking wildlife crimes more seriously than some other judges, became irritated at Martin, his new crime, his past record and the taunting of Mayfield, according to tapes of the court proceedings. "You�re a game pig," White told Martin. "You�re the type of guy hunters and fishermen hate because (you) have no respect for wildlife laws." Hoppe then weighed in with his recommendation. "I asked the judge to hammer him," Hoppe says. When the hammering subsided, Martin found himself serving two concurrent 90-day jail sentences, $1,500 in fines and two years� probation during which he cannot hunt or fish, nor can he possess firearms or fishing gear. "He just went off," Martin says. "That�s a little excessive, I think. I had a felony (drug) charge not too long ago, and I got just 15 days. "It�s a waste of taxpayers� money, as far as I see it," he says. Martin has spent four days in the downtown Medford jail before getting transferred to the work center. Fellow inmates there now laugh at him, Martin says, and don�t believe he�s serving three months for trying to poach one fish. But Martin�s time in custody has taught him a few things. First: He who snags and runs away could end up facing 90 days. "I would have been better off if I didn�t run (from police), I guess," Martin says. Second: There were two very important words missing from his court appearance �"defense" and "attorney." "If I would have known, I would have gotten an attorney," Martin says. "The worst I would have gotten then is five days (jail), at the most." And finally: Maybe Martin needs to find himself a new hobby. "I�m definitely not going to (snag salmon) again," Martin says. "I�m not even going to touch a fishing pole. "It ain�t worth it." (Staff writer Mark Freeman covers the outdoors for the Mail Tribune. Call him at 776-4470, or e-mail him at: [email protected] ) Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2000 Mail Tribune, Inc.