Department of Natural Resources officials are offering a $30,500 reward for tips leading to the arrest and conviction of the person or persons responsible for placing illegal anchored gill nets the first two days in February. A conviction for poaching rockfish carries a maximum penalty of five years in prison and a fine of up to $250,000.



The legal Chesapeake Bay commercial gill net season runs on select days in December, January and February. Last year, Maryland enforced a 2.1 million-pound quota on catches. This year's quota is 1.9 million pounds.
The legal rockfish limit for commercial fishermen is 300 pounds a day. This year in January, the state placed a temporary moratorium on the commercial rockfish fishery when the month's 327,000 pound quota was reached Jan. 12.
At 4 p.m., Rafter and Ford, along with Sgt. Art Windemuth, a police spokesman, sped toward the lighthouse at 20 knots, bouncing along on the waves in a 25-foot Sea Ark.
Windemuth scanned the houses on the shore, one mile away. "They have spotters looking out for us," he said, explaining why poachers are almost never caught. "It's well-known that they pay people to look out."
Rafter chimed in. "It's a small community," he said of Kent Island in Queen Anne's County. "If you're home, they know you're home. They know you're the police officer working this area."

A force of 215 police, thinned by about half since 1990 by budget cuts, patrol 17,000 miles of waterway and DNR-owned public lands, Windemuth said. Officers respond to 20,000 calls a year - including ones for maritime search and rescue, lost boaters, medical assistance and boating wrecks. Six officers patrol Queen Anne's County, police said.
About two weeks ago, Rafter and Ford got lucky. They were on a patrol in 40 feet of water when they noticed a large sunken net. They left the area and returned at night for a stakeout. But although they waited in a freezing rain from 2 a.m. to sunrise, the poacher didn't show.




The net held 6,000 pounds of rockfish, the largest poacher's catch discovered by a single patrol in 25 years.
As they approached the same area Wednesday, acting on the tip, Rafter, Ford and Windemuth swapped stories about arrests. Fishermen hide illegal catches in hollowed out batteries, under false boat floors, in the sleeves of jackets, they said.
Ford spotted the net the tipster had reported, and Rafter barked out directions on how to ease up to it. "Okay, Bob, go ahead and turn your engine hard to the right and back her up!" The boat crept along, waves tossing the phone-booth-sized cabin wildly left and right.
"Okay, Bob, put her in forward and steer to the right!" Rafter barked from the stern. He and Windemuth grabbed what looked like a volleyball net and pulled until they turned red.