But as record numbers of would-be immigrants flock to the small island, its appeal as a Mediterranean Shangri-La is under threat.

Tourism is the mainstay of the island's economy, and the summer months when the population swells from 6270 to 30 000 are crucial.

The tourist industry blames the media for a sudden drop in tourist arrivals to the island located just 100 nautical miles from Tunisia and 200 miles from Libya, the embarkation point for most boat people.

"Nightly TV news bulletins showing migrants landing here make tourists believe that the island has been invaded," said 18-year-old Rosa Maria, who works at a shop renting out boat and quad bikes.

A cafe owner at the port says journalists are out to "do harm" to Lampedusa.

"Would you go on holiday to a place where dead bodies supposedly wash up on the beach?" he asked angrily.

In reality, tourists hardly ever see boat people arriving, since the coastguard brings them to a special pier before transporting them to a processing centre.

But some Lampedusa residents say the influx of migrants has nothing to do with the drop in tourism.

Paolo Di Bona, a shopkeeper who sells handicrafts and jewelry from India, pointed to an economic crisis affecting all of Italy.

"It's easier to play the security card and blame the immigrants, just as the government in Rome is doing," Di Bona said.

Two graves are marked only 'non EU'

Lampedusa depends on Sicily, more than 120 nautical miles to the north, for basic goods and services including drinking water and medical care.

The residents' anger is deepened by a perception that the Italian government cares more about the boat people than it does about Lampedusa residents.

"No Italian president has ever visited Lampedusa, which would help us feel less isolated," said Don Stefano Nastasi, the local parish priest.

"Immigration is an international problem. If Europe has no answers, you can't expect Lampedusa to find them," he added.

Despite the concerns, strains between the locals and migrants appear to be easing.

On May 18, police granted a Libyan-born Nigerian girl and her mother permission to leave the detention centre so she could be baptised.

"The mother, who is Christian, promised to do this if she survived the crossing," the priest recalled.

Parishioners offered gifts and a christening dress to the girl, who was baptised Francesca.

At the other end of the island, at a town cemetery, wooden crosses inscribed with a simple number recall the ordeal of would-be immigrants who arrived in the early 1990s, only to wind up in anonymous graves overgrown with weeds.

Two more recent graves are marked simply "non EU," with the date of death etched clumsily in the grey cement.

In the north of the island, gaily painted fishing boats, their names marked in Arabic, are jumbled together at a dump known as the "boat cemetery," having been towed there to avoid accidents.

Sun-faded clothing, shoes and lifejackets can be seen among the boats' smashed hulls.

Sapa