Welcome to Hell (2 page)

I left Bangkok thinking I had secured the deal.

OCS promised to contact me after they had their own internal discussions. Obviously they would have other interested companies to consider.

During our discussions, O’Connor has said that Spectac would have to be accepted by his head office in Chicago, USA. I thought nothing more of the talks but was quietly confident.

About two or three weeks later I received a fax from OCS inviting me back to Thailand to discuss some design drawing.

The meeting went well and I was told that OCS were very interested in using Spectac. I went home once more with high hopes.

* * *

Some weeks later in October, I received another fax. I was invited to Thailand once more to discuss more construction plans. The fax I received hinted at a positive reaction from the firm’s head office in Chicago. I was excited, and flew over.

When I arrived, I was told the decision was indeed positive. The OCS office in Chicago was very impressed by the range of services we were offering. However, they said, I was going to have to fill out quite an amount of paperwork.

If OCS were to offer Spectac a contract, they said they would be put to considerable expense. Each man would require a medical certificate of fitness, an offshore survival certificate, an offshore work permit, a welding qualification, and a permit to work in Thailand.

They would also have to pay insurance, return air fares, and hotel bills. While waiting for these permits, nobody is allowed to set foot offshore, or do any kind of work, and you have to be in Thailand to get them – which takes a minimum of two weeks.

Because of the expense, OCS were concerned that firstly, the personnel would be experienced enough to get through all of the necessary red tape, and that secondly, these workers would stay for the duration of the contract. If they left halfway through the contract, said OCS, they would have to be replaced, causing delays and more expense.

In view of this, we would have to make some sort of commitment. OCS insisted that Spectac should pay what they described as an ‘integrity bond’ of US $100,000.

This would ensure that we would only supply them with experienced and qualified personnel. Obviously, we would lose this bond if we couldn’t supply experienced workers who could get the required certificates and permits.

Furthermore, each worker would have to pay his own integrity bond of US $12,000, to make sure he’d stay for the duration of the contract.

OCS said that if Spectac were to pay this, it would mean nothing to the actual workforce. They wouldn’t care about the company losing a bond, but if they had to pay one themselves they would be sure to think twice before simply quitting.

The $100,000 for Spectac was my responsibility, but I couldn’t answer for the workers. I could only tell OCS that I would have to put it to them, and ask them whether they would be prepared or be able to pay this bond.

I knew it was going to be a problem, but OCS were adamant. I offered to double Spectac’s own integrity bond, but they wouldn’t accept that. It wouldn’t necessarily hold the workers to their contracts, they said.

After many lengthy discussions I was able to get OCS to accept that the workers, if they agreed at all, would have their bond returned over the course of the contract and not at the end.

The men would pay the bond, but it would be returned quarterly in four payments of $3,000. That was the best I could do. I figured once we had proved that our workforce was what we had promised, then we could try and get the bond cancelled or, at the very least, reduced.

I wasn’t happy about having to pay any kind of bond, but I did a little checking and in Asia it seems that asking for a bond of some kind before hiring someone isn’t so unusual. Not all companies do it, but there are a lot who insist. After all, it sort of made sense.

I returned to Holland and held a staff meeting. The original contract was to be for one year to build a crane barge, but OCS had told us that if Spectac performed as promised, then they might consider us for several other projects, totalling 500 men.

I didn’t have $100,000 in cash reserves, so I had to borrow from my bank.

Meanwhile, my lawyer worked out a guarantee, which I inserted into the contract. OCS would pay an amount equal to the total of the bonds into a nominated bank, which would act as guarantor.

OCS in Thailand agreed, but they’d have to clear it with Chicago. However, this would only be a formality.

OCS offered Spectac a preliminary contract, with a full and proper contract to be signed once approval came through. The starting date was 1 December, which I thought was a little close to Christmas for the men to be so far away from home. They argued that the men would have to be on hand a couple of weeks before the actual start-up date at the end of December or the beginning of January.

The ball was now in my court. I’d now have to find workers who were willing to pay the integrity bond.

I looked first amongst our own workers, but I also placed an advert in the Dutch press. The response I received was good, but when a lot of the workers were told about the integrity bond, they immediately lost interest.

Nobody liked the idea of these bonds, but once I explained in detail about the reasons for them and the fact that they would be returned quarterly, most of the men began to see that OCS had a point.

I didn’t like the bond clause either, but OCS weren’t giving me any choice. The full integrity bond would have to be paid. I managed to get 30 workers willing to start working on the project.

I liked to think of myself as a shrewd businessman. Since my first dealings with OCS, I had done a little discreet checking.

I established that OCS was a registered company. I even confirmed that they had offices in Chicago and New York. In their offices, the lease, telephone etc were all registered under OCS. The drawings were also genuine construction drawings.

I’d even taken the chance and sent a copy of Gerald O’Connor’s passport to the Irish embassy in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, who confirmed it to be genuine.

Without going to the extreme of hiring private detectives to check O’Connor and Hayes, there wasn’t much more that I could do, or at least do discreetly. All of the checks I made came back positive.

* * *

The day arrived and Spectac was ready to send the workers to Asia. All we needed was Chicago’s approval.

I eventually received a fax from OCS telling me that the contract had been cleared by Chicago. They now wanted Spectac to mobilise the men, and fly them over to Thailand.

The next morning I received another fax. It said that OCS had now fulfilled their part of the agreement and were under pressure from head office to ‘get some bodies on the job’.

OCS had given Spectac an opportunity of continuous work, they said. They had fulfilled every agreement. Now if Spectac was interested in doing business with them, they wanted the integrity bonds paid and the men on site. Every day we delayed cost OCS hundreds of thousands of dollars in production loss, fees and expenses.

This fax surprised me. Spectac had only held off because we were waiting for the contract to be finalised by OCS. I thought this was a strange way to conduct business. The tone of all their communications was aimed at getting Spectac to lodge cash to cover the integrity bonds in the trustee account.

OCS had proposed an obscure bank somewhere in Polynesia to act as guarantor. As a final check, I asked my own bank about it. They told me yes, this place exists and yes, it would be common for big companies to use this kind of small clearing bank for tax purposes.

Although my bank hadn’t talked with the Polynesian bank yet because of time differences, I wasn’t unduly concerned. They were working on it, though, and would get back to me in a day or two with the result.

I didn’t want to upset OCS, but I had to verify the Polynesian bank. On the other hand, OCS were waiting for our response and complaining about delays.

A decision had to be made one way or the other. Did we go? Or did we pull out of the contract? Somebody always has to make that final decision, and I made it as director of Spectac. I ordered Spectac’s integrity bond of $100,000 be paid immediately.

2

I decided to fly with the first group of men to Thailand. That way, if any problems came up, I would be on hand to deal with them.

I contacted the men and told them that they should be ready to go in two groups of 15. The first group would travel with me and the second group would follow a few days later. 30 men travelling in one group would be just too much, between flights, baggage, taxis and hotels. Everybody said they were ready, and had the $12,000.

I arranged for everybody to meet at Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, and fly together from there to Bangkok.

On the day in question, I waited at Schiphol with Spectac’s personnel manager, Hadawji. We gave out the tickets and contracts and checked the men’s passports.

Everything was going smoothly until I asked the men for their integrity bonds. I wanted to collect all the money and declare it to customs as one amount.

I didn’t want to have to go through 15 different declarations, or risk someone trying to smuggle their cash out.

I told the men to bring dollars because I didn’t want any problems or delays because someone thought they were being clever with some foreign currency.

But it turned out that I had a much bigger problem.

Most of the men had lied. Out of the 15 only two or three had the full amount of money with them. Some had about half, others a few thousand. One of them had just $2,000.

To be honest, I just felt like walking out and going home. Screaming and shouting and jumping up and down wasn’t going to do a bit of good. I was furious.

I’d listened to these men on the phone for weeks.

‘No problem!’ they’d said. ‘I’ve got the money. When do we leave?’

Now here they were at the airport with blank faces and empty pockets.

I had two options. I could walk away, or I could try to sort something out.

I talked it over with Hadawji and we decided that just this once, Spectac would cover the difference for each man and deduct it later from his salary. After all, I had bought air tickets and made hotel reservations. If I cancelled them, it would probably cost Spectac just as much anyway.

The money was collected and signed for, and the men made their excuses. I heard lots of different excuses. Some said they just couldn’t raise the money in time while others said they were afraid of losing it.

We sorted the money problem out just in time to catch our flight to Bangkok.

We landed in South East Asia the following afternoon.

Once everyone had settled in to their hotel rooms, I held a team meeting. I decided which of the men I would appoint as supervisors or foremen, and gave them all a few pointers about Thai culture.

I warned the men about the dangers of Bangkok and told them that people weren’t always what they seemed. Thailand has a large number of the third gender, called
katoeys
, who can be very difficult to spot. I didn’t want anybody taking his new found love up to his room and getting more than he’d bargained for. A lot of the men knew or had heard about these ladyboys – half man, half woman – but I thought I’d better explain it, just in case.

The following day, as arranged, Hayes came to meet me at the hotel. We spent a couple of hours going over the men’s CVs.

I’d chosen the men carefully. They all had most of the paperwork themselves. I’d hoped that by providing all this, OCS could save time.

I also wanted to use this point to get OCS to reconsider asking for the integrity bonds. If the men were supplying all the documentation, OCS’s actual costs would be cut to a work permit and insurance. Their overheads would also be cut because the men wouldn’t have to sit around waiting.

Hayes was impressed that Spectac was thinking ahead; he was sure O’Connor, his boss, would see things the same way. Of course, he told me they’d have to check that the Thai authorities would accept this paperwork, but he said it shouldn’t be a problem.

O’Connor didn’t come to that meeting but Hayes agreed to meet the men. They all had questions, which Hayes answered, and he laughed and joked with the men as the meeting went on.

After the meeting the men went off to do a little sightseeing.

I’d arranged with Hayes to meet with him and O’Connor the next morning. I wanted to hand over the money for the integrity bonds.

The next day, which was a Friday, only Hayes turned up.

He told me that O’Connor had to rush away to clear some technical problems on one of OCS’s other projects. Hayes said that the bonds would have to be cleared that day so that the information and a copy of the receipt could be sent to OCS Chicago before the weekend. Otherwise there would be delays, and that wouldn’t impress Chicago.

I explained that the original of the guarantee still hadn’t been given to me and I would need it for our lawyers.

‘No worries,’ said Hayes. ‘Gerry has the original. It’s all signed and sealed.’

However, O’Connor wouldn’t be back in Bangkok before the banks closed, Hayes explained. The money, nevertheless, would have to be cleared that day.

‘Look,’ said Hayes, ‘Pay the money into the bank today. We’ll get the paperwork off to Chicago. Then when Gerry gets back on Monday you can both sit down and iron out the details. You’ll get your guarantee first thing on Monday morning. There won’t be any problem with that.’

I had no reason not to trust them but this was all very unusual.

But then, they’d kept their promises so far.

I decided to throw caution to the wind and pay the money into the bank at closing time.

I remember it was a Friday so I thought that no withdrawal could be made until the following Monday morning. As far as I was concerned, the money was safe.

The second team arrived in Thailand the following Monday morning, as planned.

Hadawji called me to say she had met the men at Schiphol airport and once again only a small number had the full $12,000. As before, I told her to make up the difference from Spectac money.

Everything was running smoothly. On Tuesday morning I met Hayes and O’Connor.

They told me that my payment had been received by OCS in Chicago, who had given the green light to get started.

Next, O’Connor gave me a copy of the original bank guarantee. As promised, it was all signed and sealed. I read it through and it was the exact same as the one faxed to our offices.

I had the money for the last group’s integrity bonds in my briefcase, because it had been arranged to go together to the bank after the men had been sent on their way.

O’Connor suggested that rather than leave the money at the hotel overnight again he could take it and lock it in the office safe. First thing in the morning he’d have his personal assistant rush it over to the bank.

That would mean putting a lot of trust in this man. But to be honest, the idea made a lot of sense. Why shouldn’t I trust O’Connor?

I handed over the briefcase containing the cash and O’Connor wrote out a receipt. I didn’t suspect a thing.

* * *

The truth was that I was being conned. I didn’t know that Spectac’s office in Holland had been asking for the original bank guarantee – to no avail.

Our bank had wanted to see it. Two days had passed and they hadn’t heard from OCS.

I only became aware of the problem when I received a fax from my office. It said our bank was still having trouble locating OCS’s bank in the Polynesian Islands. Although the guarantee from OCS looked fine, the bank wanted some sort of official confirmation that our money had been lodged.

When they failed to locate the bank, I was contacted and told that something was wrong.

I managed to drag O’Connor out of a meeting to ask him for some more details about this bank. I asked him why my office couldn’t track down the bank manager in Polynesia.

I distinctly remember O’Connor laughing when I asked him the question.

‘You know what those small islands are like,’ he said. ‘The manager has probably gone out fishing. Don’t worry, they’re never gone for more than a day or two at a time.’

He assured me that everything was in order. If I hadn’t heard from the bank in Polynesia by Monday morning he’d call them himself and sort it out.

It was the 18 December. I remember thinking to myself that with a bit of luck, I’d make it home for Christmas.

Meanwhile, Hadawji called to say that there were now over 100 men screaming to get out to Thailand and work for Spectac.

So far we hadn’t made a penny from OCS, and it had cost me a fortune, so I really needed to make some cash.

But I was getting worried. My bank was still trying to verify OCS’s guarantee.

I told O’Connor that I was under pressure and I asked him to clear the invoice quickly to give me some breathing space.

He promised to do his best to clear both the bank guarantee and the invoice before Christmas.

With all the men now ready to go to work, there wasn’t much reason for me to stay in Thailand.

I told O’Connor I was going back to Holland and that I’d be back in Thailand at the beginning of January. He promised that everything would be sorted out by then. He said he’d call the bank in Polynesia himself and find out what the hell they were playing at.

The day before I was due to leave, O’Connor called and said that one of OCS’s major partners, an Arab gentleman, was in Thailand on business.

He’d seen some of Spectac’s paperwork and some of the men’s CVs. He said the businessman wanted to meet me before I left.

This was again all very unusual. I didn’t particularly want to meet this guy, but I really didn’t have much choice. You can’t expect to do much business with a company if you go around refusing to have lunch with their partners. So I agreed to the meeting.

The partner pulled up at my hotel in a huge black limo. He was dressed in full Arab costume, and certainly looked the part. He was accompanied by Hayes and O’Connor, as well as a translator.

Everyone was introduced, and the translator explained that this gentleman was from Saudi Arabia. He’d been a partner and major shareholder in OCS for the last ten years or so.

Without warning, he told me that he wanted to transfer my team to a totally different project, in Saudi. OCS would understand, however, if the men wanted to go home for the holidays.

I was stunned. I had a hundred different questions running through my head, but it’s difficult to argue with a man who doesn’t speak any English. I sat there and listened.

When the translator had finished, I explained that it would be impossible for me to give an answer immediately.

I suggested that we stop everything, cancel the contract that already stood, then sit down and work out a completely new one. I would talk with our lawyers and, of course, the men themselves.

As the meeting drew to a close, the man handed me a gift-wrapped box. The translator explained that this was intended as a personal New Year’s gift. I didn’t open it but thanked him for his kindness.

I opened the box when the Arab partner left. It contained a Rolex Oyster watch, worth $3,000.

O’Connor and Hayes stayed behind to discuss the new plans. I asked about the bank guarantee and the money from the integrity bonds. I told them the contract details could wait.

O’Connor said he wasn’t sure about the cash. He’d have to check with Chicago after Christmas.

I was now getting very nervous about the whole deal, but I had no option but to remain calm. I kept my composure and told O’Connor that if the men were going to go home and come back again in the New Year, they’d want their bonds returned, and rightly so. If the bonds were still required in January, they could pay them again.

O’Connor looked at me in the eye and said he was sure something could be worked out.

I left for the Philippines, where some of the men had been sent to work in the meantime.

I held a meeting and explained everything as it had been explained to me. When they heard that they were now going to work in Saudi, they were as surprised as I had been.

One of the men was wearing a suspicious expression all through the meeting. Eventually he piped up.

‘This all seems very strange to me,’ he said. ‘A few of us have worked in Saudi before. The Saudi authorities aren’t too keen on foreigners at the moment. They’re trying to cut back on the number of foreign workers, not increase it.’

There were nods of agreement from around the room. I didn’t have the exact details, so I couldn’t clear up their doubts.

Although I remained calm, I knew something was wrong. It wasn’t making sense.

I told the men that we’d get OCS to return the integrity bonds at once. Then we’d wait and see what happened after Christmas. I also planned to withdraw the money I’d lodged in the Polynesian Islands.

The men knew something was wrong. A few of them said they wanted to come back to Bangkok with me, collect their integrity bonds, then travel home for Christmas. Looking back on it now, I don’t think they believed a word I was saying.

I told them to come along, by all means. But they also wanted me to pay all their air fares to Bangkok.

What no one knew was that I was broke. I’d invested every penny I had into the OCS deal. I couldn’t pay their air fares. Besides, I didn’t particularly want 30 men all snapping at me for action and their bond money back.

Eventually I gave them a choice. If they wanted to come to Bangkok that was okay with me, but they’d have to pay the fare themselves. I simply couldn’t afford it.

Besides, I didn’t suspect there was going to be any problem having the bonds returned, so I didn’t think it was necessary for everyone to come with me.

But it was their choice and their money, so I didn’t argue. It was now the 22 December.

I returned to Bangkok the next morning with the men. When I arrived I immediately called OCS offices.

There was no answer.

I didn’t panic at first. I kept my nerve. It was almost Christmas. Offices all over the world were closed.

I had O’Connor’s mobile telephone number. I dialled it, but I couldn’t get through. I kept on telling myself that everything was okay. With the number of mobiles in use in Thailand that was no great surprise either.