Same crime. Same kind of boats. Two totally different endings.
In the Caribbean, smugglers are “narco-terrorists.” No boarding, no warning, no court date. The Navy tracks them, calls them combatants, and sinks them in international waters. Eleven dead. No drugs recovered. No evidence shown. The story ends in a classified file.
In the Pacific, it’s still the old-school Coast Guard way. Cutters chase the go-fast boats down, armed boarding teams storm the deck, and the crew ends up zip-tied on the fantail. The drugs are stacked on the pier for the cameras. There’s a chain of custody, indictments, and a judge at the end of the road.
Operation Pacific Viper is proof that the law enforcement model still works. Since August, it has pulled over 40,000 pounds of cocaine out of the Eastern Pacific. That’s more than 1,600 pounds a day. Largest offload in Coast Guard history. Fourteen busts. Thirty-six people will stand trial.
So why the double standard? Geography? Politics? Or the fact that the Caribbean operation doubles as a flex against Venezuela? Label someone a “terrorist” and you can bypass the courtroom. Call them a smuggler and you’re still bound by the rules of evidence.
The truth is, both oceans are full of the same poison headed for the same streets. But one gets treated as a war zone, the other as a crime scene. And that’s not just a difference in tactics — it’s a difference in how the U.S. decides when to follow its own laws.