In my previous entry I mentioned Beirut’s marina and its potential revenues. Today, I thought it might be interesting to delve into managerial issues relating to that marina.
To begin with, mooring in that port is expensive, comparatively and in absolute terms. This gives weight to the argument that downtown Beirut - shoreline and marina included - were designed to accommodate the fabulously privileged exclusively.
A few weeks ago I thought it would be nice if I could dock my boat at the marina. I went to the scenic harbor to enquire about terms for renting berth space and was directed to the person in charge.
Captain Jalal has worked on his looks as a sea captain. His cap definitely has something nautical about it: it’s damp with new sweat, it has salty, meandering contours from old sweat, and it is patterned with soot. Decades ago, that cap must have been white and the anchor emblem adorning it must have been golden.
Briefly, and with a marked Beiruti accent, Captain Jalal spoke of his seafaring talents. I retained that he is as skillful in berthing a supertanker in a crammed harbor as he is in racing Formula One boats well past world record speeds. He is equally at ease in sailing a destroyer as in commanding a fishing fleet. As for his swimming, it is unequaled in this part of the world; he used to swim-chase jetskis out of the marina, but he’s growing old and the new machines are getting more powerful. Fishing, diving, waterskiing, surfing, you name it he excels in it. He didn’t mention anything about aircraft carriers, though, and I didn't push in that direction either.
I told him what I was here for and that like himself I was a Beiruti. That did not seem to have impressed him, and upon enquiring about my boat’s details he said that the marina didn’t accept boat that size.
(In the following conversation, N is Novo and CJ is Captain Jalal)
N: But I see smaller boats moored in here. How come?
CJ: Ya habibi, these are for millionaires: princes, sheikhs, sultans, and their offspring. I admit we have a couple of very rich Beirutis as clients, but we are planning to get rid of one next season.
N: But I thought these guys mostly owned big 30-meter-plus yachts.
CJ: That’s where you are wrong, my friend. The larger boats are for the less well-to-do.
N: Ya Captain Jalal I am sure what you are saying must make sense but I fail to understand; I lack your experience, so instruct me.
CJ: Ya sahbi as a favor from one Beiruti to another I’ll tell you how the marina operates. You could compare it to a bank. If a client moors a vessel in here we would need a guarantee that he’ll pay his dues. The rich have lots of assets that we can impound should they default on any payment, whereas ordinary guys have nothing for us to seize but their boats.
N: So?
CJ: You didn’t get it? OK, think of the boat as collateral. We don’t need collateral from the rich because they can pay. That’s why they may moor small and cheap boats in here. Whereas guys like you are only allowed to moor large and expensive boats so that we are left with something valuable to seize in case they default on fees, charges, taxes, tips, and the like.
N: That makes sense.
CJ: Of course it does. Take this four-meter bathtub of a boat, who do you think owns it? The richest emir in the peninsula, that’s who. His payments are regular as clockwork, so I’ll never have to seize his raft. And who do you think owns the million dollar 40-footer parked over there? A clerk at the Mining and Ore Ministry. If things turn bad on him his vessel goes as payment of his debts to the marina. Simple rule-of-thumb banking applied to marina business. Besides, we at this marina have reversed the standards for the chic and snob: As you can see, small inexpensive boats have become the symbol of old money par excellence.
N: I have to admit ya Captain your logic is disarming, but I need some time to digest it. In the meantime, is there a way of mooring my boat here? I’ll pay you two seasons in advance so you won’t have to worry about default.
CJ: Ya raohé your boat will go in a couple of months if you fall in arrear on tips only. Don’t you think it saddens me to turn down a fellow Beiruti. But I’ll lower the bar for you: get yourself a half-million-dollar floater and I’ll see what I can do next season. And don’t you leave with the impression that I haven’t done anything for you today: I let you park your car in the marina’s lot, which is reserved for 2006 models.
