It is still dark when we leave. We pray together for the fulfillment of our non-violent ceremony. We jump aboard a forty foot lobster boat. Ramon Saul Sanchez comes to our boat embraces and shakes hands with some of us. He apologizes that they don't have more room on the lead boat so that we can all travel together. A WSVN reporter and cameraman join us on departure and begin to do interviews. "This is a bad sign," someone says. "How do you figure?" replies another. "This is channel 7 covering us," he continues,"don't you know their motto: if it bleeds it leads." Gentle laughter among those who hear the exchange. Later they leave on a speed boat to interview someone else. We sleep and talk. As the hours pass and the sun climbs higher. Anticipation mounts The smell of diesel and the choppy seas take their toll on the passengers. All of a sudden dozens of dolphins start jumping in the wake of the boat. God's creatures living free on the open sea. A sense of emotional uplift spreads through the boat. Temporarily we forget our worries and enjoy these creatures entertaining themselves and us.
As I sit across from my friend Omar Lopez Montenegro, an internal opposition figure, who spent years in Cuba fighting for liberty. Living the life of a free man whether in a cell or in the larger prison that is Cuba. He maintained his dignity at the risk of his own life. I have always wondered, would I have the strength of character and courage to do what he did? I'd like to think I would, but to be honest I don't know. My participation in this flotilla is a first step in answering that question for myself. I believe that certain basics are needed to live a life as a free human being. I believe that liberty is a basic necessity to existence, and that it must be defended against tyranny. I say that I believe that on extreme occasions one must be willing to sacrifice one's life for the good of the society.
Brothers to the Rescue join the flotilla from the air. They begin to fly formations and fly close enough that we can see them waving at us. These brave men and women could be knocked out of the air by the backwash of a Cuban MiG and killed. We talk about the courage these pilots have, and how easily they could be killed. We all head in together.
We see land in the distance. At last, Cuba. The emotions course through the whole boat. Joy mixes with sadness. Joy at seeing home, but sadness because of the injustice and tyranny that still exists. We all pray that God's will will be carried out. We do not pray for our personal safety, but for the liberty of Cuba, and for our enemies to embrace God and ask forgiveness. Our prayers seem to be partially answered.
As we near the12 mile limit we begin to see Cuban aircraft circling. We wave our flags and sing the Cuban national athem. Joy fills our hearts our mission has been partially accomplished. We can see Democracia in the distance leading us further into Cuban waters. One of my compatriots asks if we have entered Cuban waters. Yes, we tell him. He throws a bucket over the side and draws the Cuban water out and pours it into a bottle shaped like the Virgin. This was his holy water: Cuban water. At this point we begin to see a military helicopter circling the flotilla. We wave our flags and shout our greetings. The Brothers to the Rescue fly formation with some of the Cuban planes. We see a MiG high overhead, and I feel proud of these pilots in small propellar driven aircraft facing off with military helicopters and MiGs.
As we continue in, we can see the Havana skyline. Someone says they see someone signaling with a mirror from one of the buildings. We begin to make out four dots leaving the island and growing larger. We continue in further. La Democracia speeds ahead. As the ships grow larger; we can see that they are gunboats. Our captain stops. His brother tells him to go further, "know when to say when," he responds. As he ponders whether to go further or not. We stare out across the water as La Democracia tries to evade the gunboats and make it to the 6 mile limit. We can see the two gunboats pass on both sides of the ship. La Democracia turns around and speeds towards us. They're radio has been knocked out. We need to call the Coast guard. They've been rammed. They have wounded on board, among them Dade County Commisioner Pedro Reboredo, who is going into shock. Our captain radioes in and heads out as fast as the engines will take him. We survive our first engagement using the methods of Martin Luther King Jr, Mahatma Ghandhi, and Vaclav Havel.
I learn later that two of the Brothers to the Rescue planes flew over Havana and dropped bumper stickers over the capitol. This was done as a diversionary tactic when the Democracia was attacked by the Cuban gunboats. The bumper stickers read: "Comrades no. Brothers."
I still haven't answered my question. Perhaps I'll never be able to, not having been raised in a society without liberty. A society in which justice has been perverted to serve the interest of a clique of murderers. A society in which women and children are butchered without remorse for seeking liberty. I do know two things. It is better to die free then live as a slave, and the Democracia will return to Cuba.
Free Cuba Foundation
July 14, 1995