On a clear day, one can stand on this island and see the coast of North Korea, pale and milky on the horizon, 16km away. The channel could be crossed in just half an hour by boat.
But for Chang Hyung-soo, a 64-year-old retired diver here, this narrow strip of water is what separates him from his hometown. It also separates him from three of his friends who were lost in fog while fishing and taken to North Korea three decades ago.
What stretches before Chang is a divide hardened by a half century of mistrust.
"One day, they say, North and South Korean boats will fish peacefully together in this water," he said from a wind-battered hilltop observatory, gazing at the land his family fled during the Korean War. "But we should never give up any of our waters to the North Koreans. If we start doing that, they'll claim this island, too."
Baengnyeong is South Korea's northernmost island. Fishermen here proudly call it "South Korea's left-hand uppercut into North Korea's chin."
Since their leaders met in October, the two Koreas have been trying something unprecedented: creating joint fishing zones in disputed waters near Baengnyeong and four other South Korean islands near the North's coast. But talks on the issue have made little progress because of the North's refusal to accept a sea boundary between those islands and the North, drawn unilaterally by the UN at the end of the fighting.
The two Koreas have made major strides toward reconciliation along their land border in recent years. But the five islands present an especially tough challenge for South Korean president-elect Lee Myung-bak, because without peace here, an easing of tensions will remain difficult. Lee has said he will oppose any deal that will compromise the UN boundary.
"We must keep outside the range of North Korean shore guns," said Park Moon-il, the captain of the ferry Democracy 5, explaining why after leaving Inchon he must make a 217km detour around the North's coastal waters to reach Baengnyeong. "If we were allowed to beeline to Baengnyeong, we could shorten our trip by an hour and save four drums of fuel."
Baengnyeong looks like any other peaceful island -- from a distance. Crab and anchovy boats rest on mud flats, waiting for the tide. From its bluffs, jet-black cormorants dive for fish. Families and dogs trot out when the ferry approaches.
But up close, this is no ordinary island. Its snowy hills are pockmarked by artillery positions and bunkers, where Marines and villagers will dig in if North Korea showers the island with rockets and artillery shells in the initial hours of a war. Rusty steel columns jut from the beach to thwart enemy landing craft. Signs on the barbed-wire fences along the shoreline say "Mines."
"We cursed our luck when we were assigned here," said Chae Sun-ki, a 23-year-old Marine. "But we are proud of guarding this frontier."
There are 4,900 civilians on this 32km2 island and nearly as many Marines stationed here.
Offshore, navy vessels shadow fishing boats, ensuring that they do not stray into North Korean waters, and guard the disputed sea border. Fishermen must return home before sundown. Anyone who ventures onto the beaches after dusk risks being shot.
"Here, you will find some of South Korea's staunchest anti-communists," said Kim Ki-wang, 39, a fisherman.
"When we were schoolchildren, we burned Kim Il-sung in effigy," he said. "We composed anti-communist slogans. Our favorite was, `The best way to treat a communist and a rabid dog is with a club.'"
The five islands have helped contain the North's naval expansion into waters west of Seoul, as well as securing rich supplies of fish and crab for South Korean dining tables.
Many Baengnyeong residents are North Korean natives who fled during the war, or their offspring. South Korea encouraged their settlement here with tax cuts and housing subsidies.
But since 1973, North Korean gunboats have regularly violated the UN boundary. After a 1999 clash, the North declared a new border deep inside waters controlled by the South. Residents bristle at Pyongyang's claims.
"Let them come," said Cho Sook-ja, 68, who runs a restaurant. "I will rush out even if I have to fight with a poker."
But as relations between North and South have eased, many on this island say they feel they have been left behind. The mines and the four-hour detour impeded efforts to develop the island as a tourist destination.
To make matters worse, hundreds of Chinese fishing boats, after paying fees to the North Korean navy, have sailed into waters between their islands and North Korea in recent years while the South Korean fishermen have been restricted to waters close to their own shores.
"The Chinese trawlers catch anything, everything, and deplete our seas," said Kim Myong-san, 78, who first came to the island as a Marine and settled here with his wife.
When South Korean President Roh Moo-hyun met with North Korean leader Kim Jong-il in October in Pyongyang, they agreed to create a joint fishing zone to help resolve the border dispute. But talks have stalled.
"A few weeks ago, a 93-year-old man came here to take a last look at his hometown across the channel before he died," Chang said from the hilltop. "But he could see nothing because of the fog. I still remember the old man's tears of disappointment."
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