I understand that Paddy gave you some of the background on the Cayo Saetia tourist project.”
“He briefly mentioned it, he didn’t go into any details,” said Arrowsmith noncommittally.
“Hmm, what did you think?”
“It’s true I know that part of the world quite well, on the other hand I’m not an expert on Cuba, though I am sure it has a huge development potential for tourism, a bit like Spain in the fifties or sixties.”
They ordered drinks and then examined the menu. Arrowsmith had remembered reading in the Aer Lingus magazine an article on the The Pen Club, an old exclusive Dublin restaurant, where there was almost always a government minister and a sprinkling of MPs mixed in with some of Dublin’s top business people.
“Let me give you some background. The bank has participated in a few hotel investments in the Caribbean. There is one under construction in Jamaica at the moment and we have another project nearing its completion in French Guadeloupe.”
Arrowsmith listened patiently waiting for his drink. He was looking forward to lunch having taken a very light breakfast at the hotel.
“We now want to get more directly involved, get away from having a secondary role. I can say it has been a very interesting business for the bank and we want a little more of the action as they say.” He smiled at his use of such a colloquial expression.
“I am personally convinced that Cuba, and especially at Cayo Saetia, which is on the north east coast, is an excellent site for investment. Together with our Cuban partners we are looking at a completely new concept for a tourist complex, not only hotels and all of that, but an idea built around a whole town…if some of the legal aspects can be settled, such as ownership!” He looked searchingly at Arrowsmith for a reaction.
“It sounds very interesting David,” he replied sipping his Tullamore Dew and Kerry spring water.
“I’ll tell you at once, it’s a very exciting and ambitious project. Let me tell you a little bit more about my ideas.”
“That’s what we’re here for.”
“Fine. Tourist complexes, we’ve seen plenty of them. This would be something different. In Cuba today, hotels that exist, or are under construction, or even in planning, according to my knowledge, could only be described as offering sun, sand and drinks,” Castlemain smiled, “with the possibility of the usual tourist trips to interesting places. A diversion, if you like, away from the boredom that certain tourists can experience being separated from the real Cuba and its people.”
“I agree one hundred percent with that.”
“What I imagine in Cuba is something different. A new city! A model to demonstrate how they could preserve their way of life with Christian traditions, in a reformed socialist and egalitarian society.”
Arrowsmith was immediately on the alert when he heard the word Christian and socialist and it must have shown on his face.
“Don’t get me wrong I am not evangelising,” smiled Castlemain lifting his hand.
“It would be a city development in harmony with the site we’ve chosen and Cuban traditions, not a Soviet style dormitory town with its endless blocks of drab flats, nor a golden ghetto where the local population is excluded from the fun and wealth, like Varedero,” he enthused.
“We’d build the city on the model of a real and complete Cuban town, like Trinidad de Cuba. Its economy would be based almost entirely on tourism and services, that’s to say hotels, shops, bars, restaurants, music, but incorporating the revolutionary ideals of equality and progress for Cubans and their families.”
“Like the Irish Village at Bunratty, but on a bigger scale,” said Arrowsmith smiling a little.
“But on a much bigger scale and filled with real people, not a nine to five museum!"
He seemed a little peeved to have his grand idea associated with the Irish Village. Arrowsmith quickly change tack.
“The political and social ideals look good, I suppose it’s been the economy which has been bad with ideas imported from the Soviet Union,” said Arrowsmith. Then adding, “What do the Cubans have as industries by the way?”
“Sugar, nickel, cigars and some oil…that’s about all.”
“I see.”
“…apart from their climate, a tropical paradise one hundred miles from the USA. Their natural industry is tourism, well managed it could bring a decent standard of living to every Cuban!”
“I suppose it could.”
“We could have 1950 style taxis, cigar factories, rum distilleries. Everything in the tradition of the country, but new, with hot and cold running water, air-conditioning, you know everything in working order. A complete Spanish style tourist industry, that operates almost all year round.”
“Sounds really interesting,” said Arrowsmith starting to warm to the idea as he constructed an image of the town in his mind.
“In addition we wouldn’t forget history, there would be a Carib Indian village, Columbus’s landing point, a natural reserve, botanical gardens, the battle for Independence against Spain, the Bay of Pigs invasion…the whole lot.”
Castlemain was carried away by his enthusiasm and it was contagious.
“It sounds exciting. How much will it cost? What about the Cuban government?”
“They are completely sold on the idea and we have initialled a confidential ‘Memorandum of Understanding’ with the Minister of Tourism.”
“Well you’ve said enough. I’m certainly interested to help, if that’s what you want.”
“Listen, what we need now is to set up a development company and carry out a feasibility study. It’s all yours if you want, check it out for us and let me know what you think. We’ll cover all the costs and your fees.”
The whisky had mellowed Arrowsmith and the atmosphere and warmth of the restaurant had eased the chill he had begun to feel as they had walked over from the bank. What had he to lose, he thought, after all it might be a change of scenery and ideas. If they covered all the costs it certainly would not do any harm.
“Why not David, you confirm that to me in writing and I’ll get you a proposal on how we can do it.”
“Excellent Tony, that’s excellent,” he said beaming with satisfaction. “I’ll give you the complete file after lunch and we can start looking at some kind of plan. I’ll look after things with the NIB who are willing to finance fifty percent of the Ciudad Cayo Saetia Project Development Study Company.”
He went to explain how they planned to set an Irish company near Dublin and it would be baptised Ciscap Development Limited or ‘Ciscap’ for short. The company would undertake the conception, economics, design, planning, construction, promotion as well as management, in fact the whole show…seeking financial and know-how partners, not forgetting operators.
“Sounds fantastic. Why Ciscap though?”
“My staff baptised it Ciscap, they inversed Cayo Saetia making it Ciudad, Saetia, Cayo, Project. It sounded good, so I left it like that,” he explained with a slightly annoyed laugh.
“Oh!” he said a little nonplussed.
“I see the city with a population of ten thousand people including three thousand foreign tourists.” Castlemain quickly pressed on.
“How long would it take, you know the whole programme?”
“I see something like a five to ten year plan.”
They were looking at a two hundred million dollar a year operation on completion. The investment Castlemain had estimated would be almost one billion dollars with infrastructure, roads, water treatment, electricity, schools, a hospital, transport, an airport, supply industries such as bakeries, dairies, a brewery and so on.
Arrowsmith was totally taken by the scale of the idea, mentally visualising the city.
“Just one last thing Tony, this is highly confidential. You can imagine if we can get it off the ground, the same operation could be repeated at many other sites in Cuba not forgetting the rest of the world.”
What Castlemain did not mention was his dream to have the new city called ‘Castlema
in’ which Castro had suggested when the plan had been presented to the banker in Havana. Castlemain had reasoned that it was not absurd, after all there were cities renamed after countries in Cuba, there was even a whole province name ‘Granma’ after the leaky boat, named in honour of its first owner’s grandmother, which had carried Fidel together with Che and their revolutionaries from Mexico to Cuba in 1956.
Later that afternoon as Tony Arrowsmith had watched the green fields slip away under the wings of the plane he was having second thoughts at his decision. Perhaps he had been carried away by the whisky and Castlemain’s smooth talking. He wondered what he had let himself in for, was it another Irish dream or the idea of a megalomaniac? He should have slept on it for a couple of days before saying ‘yes’. He closed his eyes, sipping his Champagne; he relaxed back in his seat putting it out of his mind.
Too many projects and too many hours had already been the cause of the break-up of his marriage. His mind wandered as he felt the warm effect of the champagne. His wife had been French. She had left him preferring smart Biarritz to a lonely home in Paris. She had not been able to support his life as an ambitious entrepreneur, running around the world in search of wealth and adventure.
He remembered when she had explained with firm diplomacy that he had become a workaholic and the time had come for them to reconsider their relationship. He had never had the time or the motivation to contest the divorce and had agreed to all her, not modest, demands for the sake of an easy life.
He had admitted his failings as a husband and he bore neither her nor the French any particular grudge. In fact he regretted not having listened to her good sense early. It was too late anyway.
Chapter 14
Women and Fast Cars