Fisherman's fight with U.S. catches justices' attention

CORTEZ, Fla. — Look up the definition of "fisherman" and John Yates' wrinkled, weather-beaten, Winston-puffing mug might appear. But these days, he's limited to restoring antique furniture and dealing in scrap metal.
Now look up the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002, and you'll find the federal government's Enron-inspired crackdown on financial fraud and document shredding.
But three years ago, the act reeled in Yates for tossing 72 undersized red grouper into the Gulf of Mexico.
On Wednesday, the Supreme Court will examine the curious case of Yates v. United States, which asks the question: Was it the government that went overboard?
"It's obvious that a fish is not a document," says Yates, 62, over a lunch of grouper bites and Budweisers on the Gulf coast, which has been his home for the past 15 years. "You don't have to be that smart to figure that out."
Does the nation's highest court have bigger things to fret about than six-dozen 19-inch fish? Certainly.
But the justices agreed to hear Yates' appeal, even after two lower federal courts determined that his prosecution under a law targeting white-collar criminals was justified. It mirrors a similar case last year, in which the government prosecuted a jilted wife's clumsy effort at revenge under a federal chemical weapons treaty. The court reversed that one, 9-0.
The facts of the case: Yates was captaining the 47-foot "Miss Katie" in 2007 when a state conservation officer with federal enforcement power boarded, measured some 3,000 pounds of fish and found 72 grouper under the 20-inch minimum. He ordered them returned to shore.
Not throwing back in the undersized fish is a civil violation, punishable by a fine or fishing license suspension. But this fish tale got more complicated when Yates allegedly ordered a crew member to throw the offending fish overboard and replace them with longer ones. When the fish were remeasured on dry land, the government smelled a rat. So to speak.

GOVERNMENT MOUNTS STRONG CASE

John Yates, a former commercial fisherman convicted under a major federal document-shredding statute for throwing undersized grouper overboard.

It's a charge Yates still denies to this day; He says they were the same fish, measuring differently based on their mouths, tails and temperature. His wife, Sandy, a former paralegal, keeps a voluminous file that includes the original handwritten measurements of each fish.
Yates was convicted in 2011 of violating Sarbanes-Oxley, which carries a possible 20-year sentence for tampering with or destroying "any record, document or tangible object." He served a 30-day sentence over the Christmas holidays and still lives under a three-year supervised release program. When Sandy's sister died earlier this year, he quips, "It took an act of Congress for me to bury her in Ohio."
As the court date has approached, several legal commentators have commended the government for stating a strong case. Despite the existence of more than 4,500 criminal statutes, it lacked a go-to law prohibiting destruction of evidence, particularly before legal action was threatened.
Sarbanes-Oxley filled that need. It's been used to go after the destruction of cars, cash, cocaine, child pornography — even murder weapons and bodies. Recently, it was used to convict a man who helped the Boston Marathon bombers conceal a backpack containing fireworks and other evidence.
To hear Yates tell it, the Justice Department argues, the law "prohibits a murderer from destroying his victim's diary, but not the murder weapon. Congress surely did not intend such an illogical result."
Yates has nine supportive briefs on his side, authored by groups ranging from the U.S. Chamber of Commerce to the California Sea Urchin Commission. One is from the law's co-author, Michael Oxley, former chairman of the House Financial Services Committee, who said "tangible objects" referred to items that can store records, "like hard drives and CD-ROMS. Not fish."
Yates' case raises questions about whether the thousands of criminal statutes on the books and the way they are used give the government an unfair advantage over defendants. "The absurdity of this factual scenario, unfortunately, is all too common in today's overcriminalized society," says the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers in its brief supporting Yates.

FROM CAPTAIN TO HOUSE-HUSBAND
Among Florida's fishermen, Yates is well known. He loved the grungy, grimy 8- to 10-day trips at sea that he'd take with a couple of deck hands, four miles of cable and 750 hooks. His bronzed arms and hands are littered with the injuries of the industry. What he loves most, he says, is "the excitement of not knowing" what he's going to catch. And he says he's "been fishing all these years with no citations. None."
Seven years after his ordeal began and four years after being arrested at his home, Yates finds himself blacklisted by boat owners who once hired him to captain fishing expeditions. If he were still at sea, he estimates he could be making as much as $10,000 a month. Instead, his wife hustles between her job as a banquet manager and the fledgling antique furniture shop.
"He's my house-husband, and I'm breaking my butt trying to get the bills paid," says Sandy Yates. Still, she relishes the battle. "It's helping the fishing industry," she says. "They won't do it to another one if they rule in his favor."
Sandy Yates plans to be in court for Wednesday's debate. She's got a civil suit for damages in mind if they win, or at least a complaint with the Commerce Department's inspector general. But Yates himself will stay back and mind the store.
"He's not real fond of courtrooms," his wife says. "He hasn't had great luck there."