A month has passed, and Costa Rican police have yet to make an arrest in the case of Jairo Mora, a 26-year-old turtle conservationist murdered on May 31 while patrolling a Caribbean beach to protect nesting sea turtles. Mora, who was kidnapped along with four international volunteers on the night of May 30, was found dead the next morning on Moín Beach in the Caribbean province of Limón. He’d been beaten and asphyxiated in the sand by five masked gunmen, who left the foreign volunteers tied up in an abandoned house. The volunteers escaped and called police. The case is capturing international attention from environmental groups, who have collected $56,000 in reward money for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the perpetrators. But it also has cast a shadow over Costa Rica’s strong global reputation for conservation and wildlife protection, raising questions about the adequacy of environmental enforcement and the safety of those working to safeguard the country’s natural riches. Trudging through mud, battling the elements and confronting dangerous poachers, drug traffickers and other criminals, conservationists often work with little support from police and the underfunded—and unarmed—park rangers.

Mora worked for the Wider Caribbean Sea Turtle Conservation Network (Widecast), a U.S.-based scientific organization dedicated to sea-turtle protection. Widecast pulled out of the Moín Beach turtle patrol program after the attack, citing a lack of security. According to Didiher Chacón, the group’s country coordinator, Widecast volunteers had received threats from people he believes were either turtle poachers or drug traffickers operating in the area.

Before he was killed, Mora also reported receiving threats. Vanessa Lizano, a close friend and a fellow conservationist who heads the Costa Rica Wildlife Sanctuary, says Mora previously was held at gunpoint by men who “told him to back off and stop the walks.” Says Lizano: “That was his first warning, and I guess his last.”

Other attacks by poachers also had occurred in the area. In April 2012, poachers raided a hatchery where volunteers were reburying turtle nests. “They tied up the volunteers and stole all of the eggs. Jairo was the one who finally found [the volunteers],” Lizano said. On April 23 of this year, Mora used his Facebook page to call authorities for help after a night of poaching raids. “Send messages to the police so they come to Moín beach… tell them not to be afraid but to come armed… 60 turtles lost and there wasn’t even a single nest… we need help and fast,” Mora wrote.

Eight days later he was killed. The northern Caribbean beach where Mora was murdered is a hot spot for nesting of the endangered leatherback turtle. Last year alone, 1,474 turtles nested in Moín, the Costa Rican weekly Semanario Universidad reported. That makes it a prime target for turtle poachers, who take advantage of the minimal police presence to rob eggs and sell them on the black market for US$1 apiece. In rural and coastal areas of Costa Rica, consumption of turtle eggs—rumored to be an aphrodisiac—is still popular, despite efforts by conservationists to guard nests and educate local residents on the need to protect turtle nesting grounds.

The Limón coast also is a known drug-trafficking route for northbound cocaine shipments from South America and for marijuana shipments destined for Costa Rica, primarily from Jamaica. The line between poachers and drug traffickers often is blurred. For more than a decade, encounters with poachers wielding AK-47s have not been uncommon.

Police are spread thin, and often outnumbered and outgunned. When local drug seizures are made, suspects frequently flee into the harsh tropical wilderness surrounding the beaches. Lizano says that late last year she received a letter from the National Police and the Coast Guard stating they would no longer provide protection to Mora, Lizano and members of other turtle-protection groups in the area. Citing jurisdictional issues, the Environment Ministry and the Costa Rican Fisheries Institute also have said they can’t secure the beach, which is not designated as a protected area.

Police did continue patrolling the beach, but not alongside the turtle volunteers. The stretch of beach where Mora was killed is at least 16 kilometers (10 miles) long, and officers were not near when Mora and the four volunteers were attacked. In response to the murder, a group of four police officers now patrols with Lizano, who vowed to continue walking the beaches even after Widecast pulled out of the program. But foreign volunteers and funding have evaporated.

“We need help, because this project has been seriously affected [by Mora’s death], both financially and in terms of the loss of volunteers, who are scared to come here,” says Lizano. “I’m paying for this out of my own pocket. And we’re screaming to the heavens for help because we cannot leave that beach unprotected. If we do, we let the bad guys win, and that’s what they wanted.”

Yet even with the patrols, poachers still operate with near impunity. On a recent weekend, Lizano’s group found 17 raided nests in a single night. Chacón sees more nefarious links behind Mora’s killing. “I’ll leave it up to your own conclusions, but from my point of view, I think we are the victims of something much bigger than poachers,” he says.

A week before Chacón’s interview with EcoAméricas, Costa Rican police and Coast Guard officers seized more than a ton of marijuana from drug boats in the area near where Mora was killed. The suspected traffickers fled into a nearby jungle.

Days later, in a separate operation, police captured two drug boats carrying half a ton of cocaine. A shootout took place less than three kilometers (2 miles) from where Mora was killed, and four Colombian men were arrested.

Yet neither the Judicial Investigation Police (OIJ)—who are tasked with the murder probe—nor the national Prosecutor’s Office would say if the investigation centers on poachers or drug traffickers, and no one has been arrested. In early June, a prosecutor said “there are suspects” in the case, but a Prosecutor’s Office spokeswoman later clarified that “anyone can be a suspect.”

Meanwhile, international environmental groups continue putting pressure on the Costa Rican government, offering up to $56,000 for information leading to an arrest and conviction.

But even money hasn’t helped on the ground in Limón. Chacón says local residents are unwilling to get involved, and the thousands of fliers Widecast has printed with information about the reward sit in an office, with no local volunteers willing to help put them up around town. “Nobody wants to help,” he says.

On June 12, the Ocean Futures Society, founded by environmentalist and filmmaker Jean-Michel Cousteau, joined a long list of environmental groups urging the Costa Rican government to seek justice for Mora’s family.

In a letter to Costa Rican President Laura Chinchilla, Rubén Arvizú, the society’s Latin American director, noted, “This crime in the province of Limón has shaken the conscience of many internationally, especially because it occurred in Costa Rica. We hope that the government, which you so worthily lead, will bring to the forefront the investigation and punishment of those who stole the life of Jairo.”

Said well-known biologist and director of the U.S.-based Sea Turtle Restoration Project, Todd Steiner: “The perpetrators of this heinous crime need to be brought to justice and they need to be brought to justice quickly.”

In a blog post for Conservation International, Sebastián Troeng, a former Sea Turtle Conservancy employee on the Caribbean coast, remembered confrontations with poachers from his time there before 2006. “I can’t count the number of times I alerted park rangers to the presence of poachers,” Troeng wrote. “The rangers would fire warning shots in the air that sent the poachers running back to their boats. Sometimes the poachers would fire back.”

The maverick founder of Sea Shepherd, Paul Watson—who has his own legal troubles with the Costa Rican government over a 2002 high-seas incident off the coast of Guatemala—blamed Costa Rican authorities for failing to protect conservationists and contributing to an environment of lawlessness. Watson offered his own $30,000 reward, part of the $56,000. U.S. officials also are commenting on the case. Former U.S. Ambassador to Costa Rica Anne Andrew, whose term ended June 14, noted on an embassy blog that Mora’s murder “is a painful reminder of the link between security, economic development and environmental protection in developing countries.” Wrote Andrew: “For the benefit of conservation of Costa Rica’s patrimony, it is of vital importance that the country focus on making intelligent investments to improve citizen security and economic development. Only an alliance between the government and the concerned public will guarantee that the beaches and coastal areas of Costa Rica are safe for turtles and other wildlife.”

Four days after the murder, Environment Minister René Castro held a press conference with Mora’s friends and colleagues, as well as other members of local environmental groups, to assure them that the government response would be swift. Widecast submitted a four-point plan to the Environment Ministry that would create a protected area at Moín Beach and put the land under the jurisdiction of park rangers empowered to arrest poachers.

On June 19, Castro and Vice Minister of Waters and Oceans José Lino Chavez met with members of Mora’s family and environmental groups. Following the closed-door meeting, he addressed the press, confirming that the Moín Beach where Mora was killed will be designated as a protected area by the state. Per the family’s request, it will not be named after Mora.

Castro also said some type of memorial will be created in honor of Mora, but that hasn’t yet been defined. And while he offered no specific details, he spoke generally about an idea to enlist help from private citizens, particularly boat owners and captains, to help patrol beaches in remote areas left unprotected by the state.

On the murder investigation, Castro said: “We are missing some details, but it is advancing. We have every reason to be optimistic that we will solve this crime.”

By designating the area as protected, Environment Ministry resources would be available for the area, and poachers and drug traffickers would face direct action from the government. But after the conference, a ministry spokeswoman told Semanario Universidad that the Widecast proposal was one of many, and nothing was certain. Meanwhile, Lizano continues patrolling the beach, accompanied by a private security guard and four local police officers.

Image vs. reality

Costa Rica is recognized worldwide for its commitment to conservation. But despite that image, conservationists on the ground confront obstacles ranging from threats by poachers and drug traffickers to lack of government support and, sometimes, outright political hostility.

In a 2010 speech to cattle ranchers, President Chinchilla referred to environmentalists opposing an airport project in the southern region’s lush Osa Peninsula as “radical groups” who “opposed development.” Said Chinchilla: “We’re going to have to confront [environmentalists] together.”

For his part, Vice President Alfio Piva caused a furor with remarks he made after Mora’s murder. In an interview with CNN, Piva referred to the crime as an “accident,” and blamed the province of Limón for its high crime rate. His statements set off a wave of criticism in Costa Rica on social media networks, prompting Piva to issue a clarification and Chinchilla to claim that the vice president’s remarks had been misinterpreted.

“I regret that my words were misinterpreted,” Piva wrote in three subsequent tweets. “I only meant to recognize that the area where this happened unfortunately has a high murder rate and that there is high risk when working in an area where there is drug trafficking. The work that the young Mora did was admirable, and days ago I condemned the murder.”

Green groups called for a public apology from Piva in a letter sent the day before vigils in Mora’s honor were held across the country, coinciding with World Environment Day.

“Of course Piva’s comments reflect this government’s very limited vision,” Chacón says. “It’s the wrong message to send. Every Costa Rican citizen has the right to security. If you go outdoors into the street and are a victim of crime, the government can’t say it’s your fault for walking down the street.”

And Costa Rican environmentalists have a long memory when it comes to the government’s performance protecting them and prosecuting those who commit violent attacks—including homicide—against conservationists.

Not the first time

The most notorious case occurred in Dec. 1994, when three activists opposing a shipyard development in Golfo Dulce, on the southern Pacific coast, died in a suspicious fire at their home, likely burned alive by arsonists. Seven months later, another member of the group, David Madariaga, was found murdered in a park in the capital. Both cases remain unsolved.

In 2009, fire destroyed the Environment Ministry’s Osa Conservation Area office in the Southern Zone town of Palmar Norte. And in 2011, Canadian conservationist and landowner Kimberly Blackwell was beaten and shot to death in her home after battling poachers in her land adjacent to a national park.

That same year, Sea Turtle Restoration Program biologist Jorge Ballestero was threatened by a group of thugs in the central Pacific port of Puntarenas after he tried to investigate reports of large-scale shark-finning. Celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay also paid a price for investigating shark-finning in Costa Rica in 2011. Assailants seized him, soaked him with gasoline and threatened to shoot him.

Since 2010, President Chinchilla has toned down her anti-environmental rhetoric and moved to address green issues. She campaigned and won in 2010 on a platform of improving public security, and statistics have shown crime is down. But conservationists feel no safer, saying that the government only responds when a case like Mora’s draws international pressure.

Says Chacón: “If you ask me if I’m scared for the people who work at Widecast and for my family, the answer is yes.”