Piracy Continues on the Spanish Main


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Piracy Continues on the Spanish Main

Foreword:

Those wishful thinkers who harbor the notion that piracy on the high seas was a family business limited to folks named LaFitte, Barbarossa, Teach, Morgan, etc., and that it ended two or three hundred years ago, need to update their information. Piracy still survives in the 21st century, and it's not nearly as rare as your travel agent might insist.

Piracy continues to be a scourge in the western Caribbean, especially along the east coast of Central America. The flourishing drug trade is increasingly choosing this route for their cocaine and opium shipments from South America, into the United States. With such enticingly expensive cargos constantly enroute, dangerous people are attracted to the area, like flies to a honey-pot. It's hard to closely identify either the purpose of a particular strike, or the "business"connections of the individuals who carry them out, but with countless millions - billions - of dollars in booty going to the winners in the deadly game, the incentive for the ongoing undeclared war is crystal clear.

So whether the particular objective is to kill the crew and steal a boat, to kill drug-running competitors and thus protect their 'territory', or merely to strike terror into the hearts of the victimized citizens, and intimidate out-gunned law-enforcement officials, a 'boarding" and subsequent murder of everyone aboard, all comes under the heading of "business as usual" in the high-stakes piracy business.

The following piece is a eyewitness account of such an event, by an observer who was lucky enough to survive it. Needless to say, most of those unfortunate enough to be on hand for such a confrontation, do not survive.

This account is offered here as a grim reminder that great caution needs to be exercised in deciding which boat to choose for even a modest trip along the coast or to the next island - in broad daylight - when that trip involves traveling in open water in an unpoliced and notoriously dangerous neighborhood.

Lorenzo Dee Belveal, Editor-in-chief

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Subject: Press Release from the Requena Family

This is how I (Reynaldo Guerrero) remember the tragedy of the Mariestela on Tuesday, May 30th, 2000. This event was so shocking and everything happened so quickly that some details remain fuzzy.

The trip started as a normal routine everyday trip on which I was the Captain and my nephew Julio Requena Jr. was the sailor. All the usual checks were made (Customs, Immigration etc.) Departure time was at 2:00p.m. and I called the homebase at roughly 2:02p.m. to report departure from Puerto Barrios. About 35 minutes into the trip (approx. 5-6 miles away from Oxtone Lighthouse in Guatemalan waters) the events of the most horrible nightmare begun.

(See diagram to relate to the story) Ed. note: Diagram not available.

I saw two men stand up (suspect #2 & # 3) and simultaneously take out guns and begin shooting. Suspect #3 shot towards me but fortunately missed, however a second shot rang out immediately hitting me in the arm. The impact knocked me into the side of the boat nearly overboard but I slipped inside the boat. While slipping into the boat, Larry Smith turned around to grab the controls of the boat but was also shot by the same gunman in the back. The impact threw Larry over the starboard side. At the same time gunman #2 fired several shots at my nephew Julio Jr. who, in turn, immediately lunged at the gunman who continued to fire until the clip was empty. Julio, all bloody, went overboard on the port side into the water landing 25 feet East of Larry Smith.

At this time the boat was in a spin and had come about within a few feet from where the event started. These events happened within a matter of seconds.

I saw people starting to jump out of the boat and heard the men say "carga rapido" (reload quickly). I was still down but able to see as the #1 gunman jumped over the seats towards the back of the boat with a knife to attack me. I heard one of the gunmen say "matalo" (kill him). I struggled with him and managed to injure him with his own weapon. I took this opportunity to jump over the seats and grabbed a packet of life jackets (10) and threw them overboard.

At this time most of the passengers were in the water. One lady had gone under the seat and a (man) Ed.note) was hanging onto the side of the boat. I then jumped into the water. The boat was now in a second spin. While in the water, I saw the gunmen shoot the man hanging onto the side of the boat and down into the boat where the lady was lying. As the spin was completed the gunmen threw the lady overboard. At this time the gunmen started shooting at everyone in the water and (then they (Ed.note) left. I saw the boat heading towards Sarstoon River. Only a couple of minutes had passed from the time the gunmen began their rampage to the time they left.

As the boat left, I heard my nephew calling out to me. I swam with some jackets towards the people and gave them to Larry and Evelyn. As I swam towards my nephew I saw him go under. I was not able to reach him in time. I looked for him but was becoming weak and had to give up after a while. Five of the survivors (Larry Smith, Evelyn Rojas, Juan Choc, Jose Ramirez and myself) decided to stay together but Carlos Sacba decided to go on his own. We did not see him again nor did we see Alicia Iraheta and Fausto Alvarez.

The second part of this horrible ordeal commenced as we drifted in the sea. We all prayed, and tried to encourage each other. As time went by further panic set in. Just before dark Juan Choc, who was not injured then chose to swim towards Livingston since he said that he thought he would have a better chance of survival being without injured people.

The remaining four continued their struggle but at approximately 1:00 a.m. Jose Ramirez became too fatigued. We lost him at that time. During the remainder of the night the group was pushed by the currents toward Cocoli and back out to sea, almost in front of Motherbush Point. We endured a rain squal until daybreak, which pushed us in front of Sarstoon River mouth.

Thank God there was a fisherman (Rolando Williams) checking his fishing nets and we began shouting and whistling. After a couple of minutes he saw us. He rescued us after nearly 17 hours in the water and took us to Sarstoon Village to look for a bigger boat. Rolando Williams and Marco Antonio Emilian then brought us to Punta Gorda Town. (In Belize - Ed. note)

We were immediately taken to the hospital where we were treated. I left the hospital against doctor’s order after the bullet was extracted from my shoulder in order to return to the sea to search for the others.

To date all the victims have been found except for my nephew Julio Jr. who we continue to look for.

This ordeal was unexpected and for reasons unknown. A few minutes have changed the lives of many forever. I continue to struggle with the memories and mourn the loss of everyone onboard the "Mariestela" on that fatal day, including my nephew Julio Jr.

This statement of the tragedy on the Mariestela is (accurate - Ed. note) to the best of my abilities and recollection. My deepest sympathies to the families of the victims - Iraheta family, Choc family, Sabac family, Ramirez family & Alvarez family.

(Note: This account is exactly as it was posted, except for minor additions that have been made to enhance understandability. Those interlineal additions are individually identified. Editor)

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