Turks and Caicos was poised to become the Monte Carlo of the Caribbean. So how did it end up a tropical hell?
Construction on a Ritz-Carlton resort on West Caicos was halted in 2008; Lehman Brothers was the major backer Kevin Cooley
Marauders, drifters, tourists, and fortune-seekers come and go, yet the unspoiled Caribbean of the imagination endures. Up here, 1,500 feet above the Turks and Caicos Islands, it's easy to believe that there's still such a thing as virgin territory, that it's possible to start over in a perpetually golden-lit and languorous world. "We call it the land of prosperity and blind optimism," chirps Lucy Mott Lee from the backseat of the single-engine Cessna piloted by her husband, Jeff.
Spread out below are the 40-odd islands, most of them uninhabited, that make up Turks and Caicos. The blue water is so clear you can count every reef, so still you can see the odd cloud reflected in it. Lucy and Jeff have agreed to offer a view from the sky of what wary developers wrought on the ground: shuttered private-island resorts and abandoned luxury hotels marring the landscape, suspended in time by financing woes, criminal investigations, or both. This British territory, largely undeveloped in the 20th century, became a playground for celebrities and the ultrarich as its reputation grew along with the easy money and loose credit of the boom years. In the last 10 years, dozens of new developments were started, almost all of them aimed at the most extravagant end of the luxury market. When the credit spigot was shut off, it didn't take long for things to screech to a halt.
The economic collapse was exacerbated by a charismatic and allegedly corrupt leader, Premier Michael Misick, whose actions helped drive Turks and Caicos into financial and political ruin, according to evidence presented by a Commission of Inquiry that was appointed by the local British governor at the recommendation of the British Parliament's Foreign Affairs Committee. Once, condos couldn't be built fast enough to meet demand; now the money has vanished, and locals wonder whether there are enough prison cells for the former government officials being investigated by the British special prosecutor.
Around the world, the popping of the credit bubble has resulted in relatively few arrests. In countries such as Greece, Ireland, and the U.S., taxpayers are footing most of the bill for what happened in that murky zone between greed and criminality. The British have determined that here it will be different: There will be a full accounting, there will be consequences, and then this island nation will start over. In 2009, as the global economic chill hit Turks and Caicos, which had enjoyed a peak annual gross domestic product of $800 million the year before?65 percent from construction, finance, and tourism?the British announced that they'd found evidence of deep-seated corruption throughout the state. After public hearings two years ago, they dissolved the ministerial government, suspended parts of the constitution, and postponed elections. Civil and criminal investigations are under way.
Turks and Caicos still has exquisite beaches, English as a native language, the U.S. dollar as its currency, and British oversight?all appealing to visitors and investors. Even as the sun-hungry and the wealthy have begun to return, the Islanders are still waiting: for punishments to be doled out, for the return of self-rule, maybe even for a long-term economic plan.
The Cessna makes its way back to the air base on Provo, short for Providenciales, the main island where Misick once had two private jets on call. The plane glides by the mansion complex he put on the market in February 2010 for $15 million. The house, named Villa Belview, features Greek-style porticos, a cigar den, a screening room, and a glass-bottom pool. It hasn't sold.
Lucy Lee, a Floridian who has been here for 30 years, offers another name for the place: "Land of Incredible Failures."
In retrospect, Turks and Caicos was primed to rise and fall with the real estate excesses of the most recent Gilded Age. The cluster of islands is an offshore tax haven, though it has never enjoyed the prominence of Cayman or the British Virgin Islands. Unlike those islands, it was almost entirely undeveloped, despite being only 90 minutes from Miami. The local population, descendants of stranded African slaves, numbered just 10,000, and anyone determined to find an education or a job beyond fishing or local government had to leave.
No comments:
Post a Comment