Flacking a Resort.

Hoteliers are eyeing Vieques as a hot new tourist destination--that is, if Puerto Ricans can evict the U.S. Navy.

THERE ARE NO MALLS, FAST FOOD CHAINS, CASINOS OR TRAFfic lights on the Puerto Rican off-island of Vieques--not yet, anyway.

But with Puerto Ricans poised to vote on whether to evict the U.S. Navy from Vieques, hoteliers have turned an admiring eye on the beach-lined island. "Expansion is more than inevitable; it's happening," says Vieques Chamber of Commerce President Burr Vail, who owns the 16-room Hacienda Tamarindo, one of the largest inns on the island.

Vieques is the only place in the world where the Atlantic fleet of the Navy practices live bombing, making it a less-than-perfect spot for vacationers. "We had a good relationship with the Navy," explains Carmen Leticia Guadalupe, a tourism office representative for the Municipality of Vieques. "But it was an impediment to major tourism development."

After years of off-and-on protests, anti-Navy sentiment galvanized in April 1999, when two 500-pound bombs fell off course, killing a civilian security guard and wounding four people. In early February of this year, Puerto Rican Governor Pedro Rossell[acute{o}] agreed to let bombing resume in exchange for a referendum on the Navy's future. That referendum could be put to a vote as early as August. If the Navy gets the boot, troops would be expected to withdraw by 2003.

If that happens, Vieques could become home to a burst of new hotels. Currently, the Puerto Rico Tourism Company lists only seven inns in its Vieques brochures for travelers, with the largest having just 35 rooms. "We'll definitely see much more development if the Navy leaves," Guadalupe says. "I imagine that after it becomes clear that the Navy is leaving, we'll see interest from the big hotel chains, because this is an island with tremendous potential."

For some hoteliers, the departure of the Navy is a foregone conclusion. Martineau Bay Resort, a 156-room complex, is scheduled to open in Isabel Segunda, the larger of two communities on the 9,300-resident island, late this year. The US$49 million resort--which will be managed by Dallas-based Rosewood Hotel & Resorts--will pepper 30 acres of the north shore with villas that rent for $450 a night. A second phase could give Vieques its first golf course.

Meanwhile, James Weis, owner of the popular nine-room Inn on the Blue Horizon, is bidding on 100 acres to build two or three boutique hotels. Another resort project, stalled for years for lack of financing, is being redesigned as an eco-lodge.

Shell-shocked tourism. New hotel investment will be boosted further by ongoing airport expansion, which will allow large commercial carriers to join the small propeller planes now shuttling visitors from San Juan on an 18-minute flight. American Eagle and Continental Airlines have already expressed interest in serving the island.

Vieques was dominated by sugar plantations until the 1940s, when the Navy came in to become its main resident. The military now owns of the island. While its presence-and the noise created by the use of live ordnance--has discouraged wholesale tourism development, Puerto Ricans have traditionally flocked to the 20-mile-long island at Easter, camping on the beaches or renting spare rooms from islanders.

If the Navy is ousted, international tourists would probably flood in as well. Tucked between Puerto Rice's big island and the U.S. Virgin Islands, Vieques boasts more than three dozen beaches, at least 124 bird species, a circa1854 Spanish fort and offshore coral reefs. Non-polluting electric boats take tour groups to Mosquito Bay, where millions of glowing undersea creatures called dinofiagellates sparkle with light when disturbed by movement Wild paso fino horses roam the beaches, and jasmine, bougainvillea and frangipani scent the air.

Ellen Adelman, regional marketing director Rosewood, notes that while the Navy kept the island free of industrial and tourism development, it also endowed Vieques with an enviable infrastructure. She points to good roadways, promises of ferry terminal improvements, water pipelines from Puerto Rico's main island and the airport.

Weis, whose posh Inn on the Blue Horizon is the most expensive hotel in Vieques (rates average around $200 a night), says it's premature to worry about a tourist glut. "If we were to bring in 5,000 people, it would be terrible. But with Martineau Bay bringing in 200 a night and us with 300 a night, it's not going to make it crowded," he predicts.

Weis, who has taken on the role as liaison between Vieques business owners and the Pentagon, says a Vieques task force seems to favor converting much of the Navy land-if the military leaves-into a reserve like the one on the Puerto Rican off-island of Culebra. Parcels with live ordnance might be cordoned off as bird sanctuaries.

"The island is small, but there's room for more," Weis says. "I think Vieques is at least 20 years away from worrying about being too developed." Adds Vail at the Chamber of Commerce: "We don't want there to be casinos and nightclubs and big hotels. But I don't think development and tourism are going to overwhelm the island."