Suárez sold his turtle operation to Propemex, a government-owned company that continues to kill the animals at a furious pace. "Suárez," says Pritchard, "was the strongman, el Chingón, the man in charge. You could reason with him. Now you see bureaucrats who shrug their shoulders and pass you on to other bureaucrats."

Carlos Nagle, a consultant for the World Wildlife Fund, puts it more bluntly. "If what you really wanted was to save the turtles, then you have to see what happened to Antonio Suárez as a tragedy. He was a typical poacher on his way to becoming a game warden. He is a very intelligent man, and he could see the long-range consequences."

But Suárez is gone, and the bureaucrats of Propemex are the new butchers on the beach.

The situation, however, is anything but hopeless. Things are not the same in Mexico as they were in 1977. Then, the only conservationists on the beach at Escobilla were Juan José de la Vega and Boris de Swan of the Cosmographic Society. By 1981, during the largest arribazón of the year, more than 150 conservationists hit the beach, like commandos. Aside from Juan José and members of the Cosmographic Society, there were representatives of two other growing environmentalist groups, Amigos del Universo and Bioconservation.

"The marines," Juan José told me, "made it possible for us to be there. I can't praise them enough. When the arribazón started, they provided a plane for us. We flew down from Mexico City and got on the beach only a few hours after the first turtles crawled up on the beach." The conservationists spread out, with people taking stations every 50 yards. They stayed two weeks. "Poachers don't want the eggs after a week or so," Juan José said. "They hatch in 40 to 45 days, but hatchlings begin to form inside very quickly. No one would eat an egg with a turtle head in it."

As the conservationists helped the marines patrol the beach, the navy patrolled the water out beyond the breakers. New Fisheries regulations require all fishing to stop for seven days after the start of an arribazón.

More than 70 reporters covered the operation. The public saw what was happening on television and heard about it on radio. Nine of the most influential newspapers in Mexico ran front-page articles on the plight of the turtles. Two documentary films were produced, and both were eventually shown on televi­sion. Juan Ruiz Healy, a popular reporter on Mexico's 60 Minutes, did a devastating report on poachers and sellers.

People like Juan José see the media in Mexico as major allies. "The public is now aware of the problem," Juan José told me, "and this is a dramatic change from when you first came to Escobilla."

Ricardo Mier, of Bioconservation, adds, "It is a paradox, but the ecology movement seems to be growing here, and growing very rapidly, in spite of the current economic crisis. I think this is because we can now clearly see that true value lies in natural resources and not in pesos or dollars."

As the public becomes more con­scious of the slaughter on the beach at Escobilla, more pressure is put on the Department of Fisheries to reinstate the ban on fishing during the breeding sea­son, or, failing that, to lower the quotas allowed Propemex to more reasonable levels.

The current quotas are absurdly high. Here are some numbers; it doesn't take a marine biologist to analyze them.