THE NIGHT THE FISHERMEN TOOK THE LAW INTO THEIR OWN HANDS

It is an island you've probably never heard of unless you've gone
there as a tourist, drawn to its high cliff trails along old shipwreck
sites, or to watch seabirds and whales, but, as its tourism
association warns: If you "desire" the mainland's neon signs and busy
nightlife, Grand Manan, N.B., is not a vacation spot for you.

Unless of course, you wanted to take in a riot that had 50 armed
vigilantes running a suspected crack dealer out of town and burning
down his house for good measure.

It was on July 22 that a mob of mostly fisherman took the law into its
own hands on the normally quiet island, 35 kilometres off the coast of
New Brunswick.

Frustrated with what they figured was a crackhouse, neighbours, armed
with guns, flares, Molotov cocktails and baseball bats, set out to rid
the island of an alleged drug dealer.

The island's mob rule even caught the attention of the country's
law-and-order prime minister, who called the attack an "extreme
example" of Canadian desire to get tough on crime.

The only untold part of the story comes from Ronnie Ross, a
41-year-old lobster fisherman and suspected drug dealer turned public
enemy No. 1.

In the isolated community of Castalia last Friday, he sat at home with
friends drinking beer into the other side of midnight.

Mr. Ross said it was "just like being in a war."

He recalled in an exclusive interview that he grabbed his rifle and
opened fire into the crowd outside his bungalow. He said the mob was
firing flare guns at his home to set it ablaze.

Mr. Ross said he shouldered his .30-30 rifle and wasn't in the mood
for warning shots.

Instead, he aimed as best he could.

"I was hoping to hit somebody to stop them from trying to kill us,"
Mr. Ross said.

"You can't die without firing back," he said.

He said he fired 15 shots into the crowd outside his home on Cedar
Street. Mr. Ross said the mob was lobbing Molotov cocktails and firing
flares at his home, and when the fire department came, the mob blocked
the firefighters' path and later tried to cut their hoses.

Mr. Ross, who has since been banned from the island by a judge,
acknowledged that the community has accused him of being a drug
dealer, something he strongly denies: "I'm not involved in drugs."

"I'm supposed to be trafficking in crack and crack cocaine ... I've
never been caught with anything," he said.

He also said he's been accused of fencing stolen goods and once let
RCMP officers into his house, but "they never found anything."

He said before his home was burned to the ground, and before he ran,
he was attacked by the mob. He claims he was beaten with fists and
baseball bats.

He appeared in court Tuesday on unrelated charges that he threatened
to burn a rival's home to the ground. He had a black eye and insisted
he shouldn't be the one in court on charges that he uttered death threats.

"Where's the law? Those charges were laid just to keep me off the
island," claimed Mr. Ross, referring to the fact that, as part of his
bail conditions, a judge has banned him from the island until his case
is resolved.

"My house was burned downed and I'm the one who ends up in court?" Mr.
Ross wondered. He said in the past his home has been subjected to
several night attacks, including a time when someone threw a propane
tank through a window.

"The police did nothing," he said. "I can't work now. I've lost my
job. I can't live there, they burned my house. I'm screwed all the way
around."

So far, there have been four young men, mostly fishermen, charged in
the mob attack case.

And they have been embraced by the community as heroes, with residents
posting signs demanding their release from jail and the creation of a
legal defence fund.

And Grand Manan Island will no longer feel underprotected, at least
for now.

The RCMP, who usually staff the fishing island of about 2,700 with a
handful of officers, initially dispatched more than 50 officers,
complete with a helicopter to fly them in and out of the historic community.

Across the island, many have welcomed the officers' presence, but the
community is divided, with just as many saying it was about time they
took the law into their own hands.

"They just got frustrated and they have the support of the Grand Manan
people," said retired fisherman Richard Foster, 67.

"There's something wrong with the system. They (drug dealers) get a
slap on the wrist (in court) and get handed a bag of dope in the other
hand. This thing (drugs) is destroying young lives on the island and
there's no punishment.

"God almighty, they're in court one day and the next you see them out
on the highway.

"And why can't the police figure out how the drugs come in? I'm not an
intelligent man, but would it be that hard to figure out how the drugs
are getting here? There's only one ferry!" Mr. Foster said.

In a rare move, the RCMP managed to get two of the accused men to give
videotaped statements in a bid to keep the community calm.

The police showed the brief statements at a public meeting Wednesday
night at a school gym. The accused asked their community to keep calm
and so long as they did, the whole thing would work itself out.

About 400 people showed up for the meeting and some were upset that
the accused men where shown in handcuffs. Others thanked the RCMP for
their intensified presence, and just as many cheered on the young
accused, in their 20s, as island heroes.

"If the police had given one-tenth of the effort we're now seeing, we
would never have had this problem in the first place. They've got
about six cops here normally. Two on vacation, two for the day, and
two for night (duty) for 3,000 people. Think about it." Mr. Foster
insisted.