These people were full of energy. They had flags and wore T-shirts with the familiar "Paz Por Vieques", "Bieke O Muerte" and "Vieques, No Se Vende" slogans. An old man in camouflage fatigues, a seasoned protest veteran, sat beside me. Young girls and boys in multicolored knit hats ran around laughing and playing like young girls and boys (with or without multicolored knit hats) do all over the world. An accordion began to play from somewhere in the crowd, followed by a guitar and then a gourd rattle. A man with a megaphone started to sing. It was sweet beautiful music, songs of struggle and freedom, Latin rhythms and protest chants. "Marina!" he calls out, "Va!" the crowd responds. This continued throughout the ferry ride. I was mesmerized and was clapping along to the music, everyone was clapping, I stomped my feet and tried to sing along to lyrics I didn't know in a language I don't speak. But this was the universal music of struggle, and the meaning was plain to anyone, Spanish speaker or not. Their passion and excitement swept me away and before I could pull myself back into the role of objective observer we were back in Vieques. The ferry arrived in Isabel Segundo with much fanfare from the passengers. They were greeted by friends and family and driven off to their beds for a full nights rest. That looked like a good idea. It had been a long day and there were many long days ahead. I walked back to my room, glowing from the inside out.

Of course, the protestors disagree. On April 19th, 1999, a civilian security guard was killed in a live fire exercise that missed its target. David Sanes Rodríguez's subsequent martyrdom sparked many protests and acts of civil disobedience, but his death was not the first tragic clash between military and civilian. On April 4th, 1953, two Marines beat an old man, Mapepe Christian, to death, and six years later, US soldiers severely injured 19 people at a local party. In 1992 Navy jets dropped 40,000 pounds of live explosives on Vieques, including napalm. In 1996, several bombs were dropped near a group of fishermen off the southern coast. One of the fishermen, René Hernández, was hospitalized with serious injures. The Navy also reported that exactly two months before David Sanes Rodríguez's death, 263 bullets containing depleted uranium were fired by accident on the eastern part of the island. On May 4, 2000 federal authorities removed and arrested protestors camped out on the Viequen firing range, ending a one year cessation of bombings.

It was becoming clear why the protestors I'd met on the ferry were so fired up. In this round of Navy exercises only inert bombs were being used, and protests during the first few days were peaceful. Navy advocates sit under their tents surrounded by American flags listening to Elvis and Souza marches and fanning themselves in the shade of palm trees. A few paces away, anti-Navy protestors sit in front of their make-shift shanties surrounded by slogans for peace and freedom and the removal of the Navy, listening to Latin music and also fanning themselves in the shade of palm trees. Across Highway 997, which is only two lanes wide and hardly a highway, in front of the Camp Garcia gate, police in riot gear stand shoulder to shoulder. Police stand in pairs every fifty feet for a mile in both directions, prepared for the worst. Cars driving past seem to slow down because of the tension. To date several people have already been arrested for trespassing and there was an incident on January 14th when protestors threw rocks at servicemen. Police responded with tear-gas and the crowd dispersed (no injuries were reported).

Ship Ahoy!

The Navy Battle group in Vieques as of January 13th was the Theodore Roosevelt Carrier Battle Group with aircraft carrier, Carrier Air Wing, Destroyer Squadron; guided-missile cruisers; guided-missile destroyers; destroyer; guided-missile frigate; fast combat support ship; and two attack submarines, in total about 8,000 personnel (roughly the population of Vieques). This battle group will be deployed in the spring, if not earlier, to relieve the George Washington Carrier Group in the Mediterranean. The exercises on Vieques determine the battle readiness of the sailors and ships and coordinate complex combat maneuvers. Only when certified for battle can the carrier group deploy for combat.

I am the only person at Navio today, a beach that is usually full of young men and women playing in the surf. Maybe it is the looming weather that is keeping the people away. But I suspect that it is the distant roar of jet engines, the cruisers patrolling the coastline, and a fear of ending up like Mr. David Sanes Rodríguez. I collect my things and make my way home; I am leaving the next day. The island is quiet, expectant; waiting for someone to tell her what to do when Mom & Pop decide they don't want her in the basement any more.