Sunday, 4 July 2010

Publisher Hits Final Deadline



On the passing of Desmond Seales, Editor in Chief of Cayman Net News.

I try not to speak ill of the dead, not out of superstition, but because it's no challenge, like shooting fish in a barrel - in Desmond's case that would be a puffer fish surrounded by piranha.

I try and avoid instant canonization of the deceased too - which avoidance in Desmond's case is also like shooting said fish in said barrel; saint he wasn't.

Many a eulogy begins with John Donne's words,  No man is an island entire of itself  but I think Desmond came to believe he was the embodiment of  the Island -  something that explains how he came to quarrel, one-by-one, with other self-styled 'big fish' sharing the same conceit.

Cayman probably shaped Desmond more than vice versa. He came to reflect the quirks, contrariness and sometimes garbled logic characteristic of the Cayman Islands, for example how he treated people.
The smiling, welcoming face at the door, which turns away (and turns to thunder) to cuss a servant for being too slow, too noisy, too some-ting, then turns back, smiling radiantly in an instant. 
Or how he couldn't be wrong about anything even when he obviously was.
 The man in smoldering clothes denying he was struck by lightning because he was wearing a tin hat in a thunderstorm. "That hat saved me. Imagine what would have happened if I hadn't been wearing it when that thunderbolt hit".

Cayman Net News had the authentic tang of  Cayman culture, being the same gumbo of contradictions. It mixed high moral tone, inspired comment, blunt commonsense and devil-may-care jibes at the powerful with monumental pettiness, political toadying,  self-aggrandizement, and random mumbo jumbo. Sometimes all in the same article. Fascinating.

If there wasn't enough news for the day Net News wasn't above 'finding' some or if the news wasn't lively enough, augmenting it.

Eventually he overplayed his hand. Crucial, and fairly recent,  events that lead to there being less news and less influence for Desmond were

  • outing of his own journalistic source of private government documents, (Charles Clifford) for personal reasons.
  • alleged comments (which he denied making) about criminal contacts and police corruption that lead to the fiasco of Operation Tempura - the scale of the fiasco not being of his making.
  • publication of letters (of  very dubious origin)  in Net News about the judiciary that triggered another investigation

These events made Desmond appear, at best, a journalistic Jonah and at worst Byronic including in the sense of being "mad, bad and dangerous to know."

Desmond was much more about politics than news over the last decade but I don't think he was ever really on a side in terms of party politics.  He was more like a floating voter, prepared to take a chance on change but also prepared to take his vote elsewhere if electoral promises were broken.

Whatever his faults and failures he was consistent in calling for a better quality of  politics and politicians, he believed both had to improve and advance if the Cayman Islands was to enjoy a happy future. This is from an editorial in May 2007.
Effective political leaders should serve in a transformational role, where they are able to outline a vision for the country and instill confidence through their works to transcend personal goals and ambitions for the collective good of the country. This transformational leadership has typically been lacking in the Cayman Islands, leaving the country searching for direction 
Amen to that.

Bury Desmond's faults with him but let that agitation for better politics be his legacy.

What should his epitaph be?   .. sticking to Donne, but paraphrasing him

"...never send to know for whom the press rolls; It rolls for thee"

With fitting irony Desmond becomes headline news in all the local media ... it's what he would have wanted.

Monday, 21 June 2010

'Type 42 Jamaican Canoe' visits Grand Cayman


HMS Manchester, a Type 42 Jamaican Canoe, is making an official visit to Grand Cayman.


Unsure  about the terminology?  Let me break it down for you.

A Jamaican Canoe is a type of boat used for drug running. They are slim, fast, open boats with two huge outboard motors and often very brightly painted. Can't imagine how they got their name.

HMS Manchester is a venerable, dull grey, British Navy 'Type 42' Destroyer now used for anti drug trafficking patrols in the Caribbean - if they can get the engine started.

Two type 42's were sold to the Argentinian Navy and were used by both sides in the Falklands War.

Twenty Eight years on a Type 42 has ended up on both sides of another conflict -  the drug wars.


A navy wren has been jailed for seven-and-a-half years for her part in trying to smuggle £1.9m of cocaine into the UK on board a warship
Teresa Matos, 37, picked up 4.94 kilos of the 100 per cent pure class A drug when HMS Manchester stopped at the port Cartagena in Columbia.

The cocaine was found on the Type 42 destroyer - which had been involved in anti-drug smuggling patrols in South America - when it arrived in Plymouth en route to Portsmouth last August.

Some of the drugs had been hidden in the lining in Matos's clothes, the rest was stashed in her locker.
[Various UK papers June 18th]

Hmmmm.

HMS Manchester cost about CI$ 132 million  - which figure is close to the CI$ 155 million that the CI Government needed permission from the UK government to borrow to balance the books.

It may be worth sending a sniffer dog aboard HMS Manchester, because if drugs were found on board and the ship is confiscated for drug running in the usual speedy manner, the original owners would have to bid at public auction against (say) Argentinian buyers.

It could fetch a very good price. Well above market price. Maybe as much as CI$ 155 million.

Yah Mon!
 

Monday, 17 May 2010

Bush to sue 'I Speak Your Weight Machine'?

Unreliable sources, ie. not Mr Bush hisself, report that the Premier's sensitivity to criticism has hit new heights and he is to sue an "I speak Your Weight Machine" for defamation. 

Apparently Premier Bush and Kurt Tibbets had a disagreement, about who weighed the most, that turned into a bet. Naturally only honour was at stake not money, because gambling is illegal here, and nothing illegal ever happens in Grand Cayman. Ever.

This was clearly an unwise wager by Kurt since, following the fitting of his gastric band, Mr Bush is less bulky than he was -  Bush Lite, as some wags have it. But it is heartening to find Mr Tibbets disagreeing with Mac on something.



Neither could produce a pair of scales that the other would trust and as it was a weekend the public weighbridge was closed, so they agreed to use a drug store I-Speak-Your-Weight machine that dispensed a printed card recording the weight.

"Yessuh let's have it on record", said Kurt, "That way you can't be puttin words into my mout'  later."

"The man quick enough to put anything in your mout' ain't been born. You so busy fillin it yourself nobody else can get at it", replied Mac.

Disregarding these observations on his appetite Kurt stepped up to the plate (no not that sort of plate) and caused some merriment saying  "This here machine is right up yah political street  Mac. It's Pay to Play".

Kurt patted his pockets looking for 10¢ to operate the machine but seemed to be out of change. Turning to Mac he asked, "Hey buddy, can you spare me a dime?  I'm broke. Like Cayman."

"Yeah! And you the one dat broke it",  Mac replied.

Kurt finally found a coin from a pocket and pressed it into the slot. The needle raced around the dial with an audible whoosh. Zero to Sumo in under a second.

The machine coughed out its verdict in polite metallic tones,  "One at a time please or you will damage the mechanism".

Mac quickly stepped in. "Kurt, you so heavy the needle on the dial is all the way round and bendin' up. Let me try it 'fore you break it."

The Premier mounted the scale's platform, half turned and winked to the growing crowd. "Now watch this".  He dropped his money (your money really) into the coin slot. The needle on the dial moved at a more leisurely pace this time: Mac smiled knowingly. When it stopped the machine's voice sounded out.

 "Whoah! You so fat when you haul ass you gotta make two trips" 

Mac stepped back, affronted, "Enough about my trips!  All I'm hearin' is too much trips this and too many trips that!  You mind out now 'cause I'm gonna sue your ass for every nickel you got."
 
Attempts to contact Mr Bush hisself for comments and verification on this story were unsuccessful as he was entrenched behind his new Wall of Silence in West Bay. If this one works other walls of silence will surely follow.