VIEQUES, Puerto Rico (AP) -- With child-like wonder, fisherman Carlos
                  Ventura scoops up a spent shell from a U.S. Navy bombing range, moments
                  after retrieving a brilliant orange starfish offshore.

                  "What is it?" he asks, cradling it in his palm.

                  It's a nightmare scenario for U.S. Navy officials, who repeatedly have urged
                  protesters to leave its Atlantic fleet bombing range on Vieques, if only for
                  their own safety.

                  Ignoring those warnings, a handful of protesters have pitched tents and
                  shelters in five locations along the range's pristine white beaches.

                  For some, like Independence Party Sen. Ruben Berrios, it's a step toward
                  winning independence for Puerto Rico, a U.S. territory. Bracing for arrests,
                  Berrios runs a tight ship at his camp on Salinas Bay.

                  "Discipline" is the motto on baseball caps worn by his followers. The fine
                  white sand is raked daily. No drinking is allowed. Sentries stand three-hour
                  shifts along the lightly phosphorescent bay. The green-and-white
                  Independence Party flag flutters from the fins of a bomb half-buried in the
                  sand.

                  For Vieques' fishermen, the protests have less to do with status politics and
                  more about reclaiming land once owned by their grandparents and fisheries.

                  "The political parties have a vision for Puerto Rico that isn't shared by
                  everyone," said Hector Olivieri, director of a fishermen's cooperative.

                  Skeleton crews run these camps during the week. The numbers swell into
                  the hundreds on weekends, when families and friends make the 40-minute
                  trek by boat, bringing food, drink and music.

                  One camp, erected by labor unions, consists of a tent, a crude latrine and
                  shower. Nearby is a chapel.

                  "It's basic, but it's comfortable," said protester Noel Garcia, listening to
                  classical music on a portable radio.

                  Somewhat more sturdy is the fishermen's own camp on nearby Yayi Key. A
                  red, white and blue Puerto Rican flag flaps in the wind, attached to a palm
                  trunk. A sandy, makeshift assemblage of picnic tables, tarps, tin and wood,
                  the camp boasts a CB radio antenna and a new pier. To the side is a small
                  statue of the Virgin of Carmen, the fishermen's patron saint.

                  By day they rest, swim, greet visitors and wave at Navy helicopters flying
                  overhead. By night, they fish for shark, crab, grouper and red snapper.

                  With occasional rumors of imminent arrests, "The worst thing is the wait,"
                  said Jose Diaz Tico, 34, as he sliced onions and peppers for a lunch of
                  rabbit stew, rice and fried plantains.

                  Wings outstretched, four brown pelicans cruise in formation over the
                  scrubby hilltops of the range. "Boricua aviation," quips Carlos Ventura, using
                  the Indian name for Puerto Rico.

                    Copyright 1999 The Associated Press.