It was a naval attack — and everybody sure got wet.

On Saturday, Nov. 17, a group of labor union organizers waged an amphibious class war “to liberate” the workers of Fisher Island.

Nine vessels bearing dozens of protesters organized by the Service Employees International Union, or SEIU, launched an aquatic publicity assault on Miami’s most elite enclave — described by Forbes magazine as “the most expensive ZIP code in the country.” The naval raid included SEIU members and lots of college students from University of Miami and Florida International University, but only one of the island’s former workers — ex-security guard Wisley Jonatas.

They were all darn good swimmers, too.

“I want to change the way Fisher Island treats me and get better pay,” said Jonatas, who swam ashore to plant the American flag and SEIU flag into the Fisher Island sand.

Because of the island’s geography and ultra-strict security, swimming was the only way the invading activists could reach land. And they came with a purpose: to battle what they call “the separate but equal mentality regarding the workers who service the island and the public.”

Buffeted by choppy seas, their spirits buoyed by a boombox playing the Star Wars theme song, the protesters hollered, “We want justice now.” Looking both fierce and childlike in their bright orange life jackets, they pumped their fists and blew ear-splitting whistles as they bore down in borrowed motorboats on their wealthy targets. In all, about 30 activists dove off and swam like mad.

The state’s manatee protection laws prohibit boats from coming within 400 feet of the beach, and on that windy, relatively chilly, gray Saturday, it was a long, strenuous dip battling the waves and avoiding the neon purple and blue tentacles of the Portuguese man-of-war.

According to the SEIU, the exclusivity of Fisher Island constitutes injustice. Not only does the union want to unionize the island’s workers, but also “liberate” the island’s beach, which is off-limits to common folk by Fisher Island policy and geography.

This tropical Buckingham Palace is so exclusive that guests can only be admitted by personal invitation. Instead of getting past the Queen’s Beefeater guards, they must pass muster with security staff just to get on the private ferry, where their names are checked against a list of invited guests. Those who don’t drive a Bentley, Rolls or Mercedes might feel out of place. Other transportation options to get to the island are yacht, seaplane or helicopter.

But while Fisher Island residents call it a “private island,” union lawyers say everyone has a right to go to the island’s beach. According to state law, the stretch of fine powdery sand lining its shores belongs to the public, said SEIU 11 Political Director Hiram Ruiz, and that’s why the union attempted to establish a beachhead.

“Fisher Island is the quintessential example of the disparity between wealth and poverty in Miami,” Ruiz said. “Fisher Island can afford to pay workers more, but they don’t.”

Despite the serious rhetoric, the Robin Hood-meets-Flipper protest sure seemed fun. County and state police on boats grinned from ear to ear, along with the union activists. “Everybody is taking credit for coming up with the idea,” said Ruiz, laughing, as the media boat cut through the waves toward the island’s sparkling shores.

The raid took off from Jimbo’s on Virginia Key — where the 1960s television show Flipper was filmed. Jimbo’s has served as a backdrop for various movies (Ace Ventura, True Lies and 2 Fast 2 Furious), television shows (Gentle Ben, Miami Vice, Karen Sisco and CSI: Miami) and models’ half-naked photo shoots (Heidi Klum and Naomi Campbell). It’s also a hangout where people fish, drink beer and play bocce ball. While union leaders shouted slogans from their bullhorns, Jimbo’s motley crew of carefree regulars strolled through the crowds smoking, drinking, mingling with TV news crews and generally looking like they hadn’t worked a day in their lives.

Launching the aquatic attack from Miami’s most popular tropical stage gave the invasion the zany glow of showbiz.

Jonatas said he was fired after six months on the job for violating the ferry’s policy: He walked through the lot of parked luxury cars to stand in the un-air-conditioned employee lounge. He said employees are forbidden to move among the automobiles to protect the paint jobs, and are instead forced to stand in the back of the ferry subject to scorching sun, salt, spray and rain.

But the ferry policy does not promote discrimination or segregation, said Fisher Island Community Association’s new public relations representative, Jose Cancela. “It’s not about paint jobs; it’s a safety issue,” he said, adding that the rules require everyone who arrives after the cars are boarded to stand in the back.

As for the union protest, “these were all college kids, not workers,” Cancela said.

In fact, besides Jonatas, the only other Fisher Island employee protesting Saturday was Mariette Casseus, a housekeeper who is not currently working there, either. She didn’t swim because of recent knee surgery to correct a problem she said she incurred on her $8.50-an-hour job because she was forced to clean too many rooms in too little time.

Union organizers explained the other workers couldn’t join the protest because they were busy doing their jobs on the island, keeping it safe, clean and pretty. After all, Ruiz said, weekends are the busiest days for cleaning the multimillion-dollar homes, cutting the grass, and keeping the beach chairs lined up, the flowers blooming and the fountains flowing. Besides, he said, the workers were too intimidated to demonstrate.

But the Fisher Island spokesman said employees didn’t join the rally because they are, in fact, relatively well-paid and happy. The new starting salary is $10 an hour with benefits that include two to four weeks’ paid vacation, sick days, personal days and access to health care. The average Fisher Island worker now makes $13.81 an hour. Meanwhile, under the SEIU’s contract with the University of Miami, janitors there will not earn a $10-an-hour wage until the year 2010, according to the community association.

“What’s obvious about what happened on Saturday is [the union] hasn’t been able to get the 30 percent signatures that they need [for an election to unionize], so they resorted to this fiasco that took place, with a bunch of college kids,” Cancela said.

But SEIU claims its Fisher Island invasion captured a moral beachhead in the minds of the public. He believes the island’s recent pay raise shows the association is already succumbing to the pressure. In the meantime, SEIU is pursuing a discrimination lawsuit filed by 19 employees and plans to sue for a path from the ferry to the beach.

So what happened after the flags were proudly planted on Fisher Island’s crystalline shores? Not much. There was no treaty signing, no exchange of trinkets, no Thanksgiving dinner. There was no brawl with Fisher Island residents, either. Protesters chanted, marched, blew screeching whistles and high-fived each other, but most residents stayed inside. It was cold enough that one lady reportedly rode out in her golf cart wearing a fur coat and hat. Otherwise, it was a day at the beach.