I don't even want to think about what happens to those boats at rough seas. And even decent built vessels sometimes get lost in that area.

DG

I do.

 

In fact, about the only thought better than that might be thinking about what happens to those boats when Coast Cuard cutters accidentally fail to yield the right-of-way directly over the top of them.

 

 

This is beginning to sound like "the good old days" in the 1920s, when fast Coast Guard boats used to shoot the hell out of unarmed rumrunners with their deck-mounted .50 caliber machine guns in order to enforce the Volstead Act and Prohibition.

Better known as the First War on (Some) Drugs.

 

The appetite for psychoactive substances like cocaine (and its congeners) is a constant in any population. Suppressing the market's satisfaction of that appetite constitutes nothing more than a price support system providing incentives to the most murderously ruthless criminal participants in that marketplace, causing them to seek ingenious methods to test and penetrate genuine security measures that serve a better purpose in protecting against the attacks of foreign enemies, helping to develop an infrastructure - Russian naval architects, Columbian boatyards, skilled narcotrafficante crews - who can easily be turned (courtesy of some Islamic "charity" funding) to sliding one of these semisubmersibles full of Semtex up alongside a liquid natural gas (LNG) tanker and instantly turning a U.S. seaport into a funeral pyre.

 

The present War on (Some) Drugs is a luxury - a political idiocy, more accurately - that the Constitution does not permit and which this nation can no longer endure. Economically, medically, militarily, geopolitically, it mades ZERO sense and accomplishes nothing of value to anyone but politicians and their sordid ilk.

 

Time and past time to declare it such, and put an end to it.

 

--

Yeah, you're right... besides, those Columbian drug gang smugglers might get all tangled up in the props and damage our ships.  Still, just picture the cutter sailing away, leaving those half-dozen or so human wastes-of-oxygen bobbing in the open ocean, clinging to bags of coke hoping they'll stay air-tight and keep their dope-trafficking asses afloat, as the current slowly sweeps them out to sea....  [sigh!]  Well, a guy can dream, even if we'd never do that sort of thing.