The original debacle of Baker’s Bay went almost entirely unnoticed by the outside world. Nobody wrote about it and nobody knew about it. And, with two-thirds of the West Indies’ reefs in severe danger and over a quarter of the world’s reefs now destroyed, what was the big deal if the guys who make Nemo dolls contributed to degrading one of the most important ecological sites on planet Earth?
Disney's blunder was over, and the only record the world had of this episode seemed to be my own.
Because of that, a couple years ago, a few fellas wrote me. They were from a golf course development company called the Discovery Land Company. They reminded me that yes, wasn't it awful that Disney did bad things. And they reminded me that they were developers who were going to clean up the mess. And wouldn't I be so kind to tell them who owned the land, so they could buy it from him?
I had a pretty good hunch about who the land-owner was. I knew this, because I used to play board games on their yacht in Treasure Cay Harbor, across the Abaco Sound.
I played board games and sipped Sodas in their yacht. I admired them and was entranced by their accents; the accents of luxury and transcontinental lifestyles. Was it an American accent? Or British, French?
No, it was everything - the accent of bars with breezes, of English gentlemen with wheezing coughs and backslapping Texans with big fish stories. It was the accent of wealthy harbors.
