I thought we left to get away from all this….
05 February 2012
Despite the 'living the dream' rhetoric, in our current world it is not possible to escape the grasping tentacles of bureaucracy entirely. Governments have got most things pretty well tied up, for the average Joe at least. In order to get away without paying taxes you've either got to have no money at all, or shedloads of the stuff. Or be dead, of course, and that doesn't always stop them. On top of that, I for one would not want to be completely isolated from some of the many benefits of developed societies, such as modern medical science, clean diesel, the internet, light engineering, telecommunications, the BBC and decent beer. On the other hand, I can happily live without wide screen TVs in bars and restaurants, muzak (especially cheesy compilations of Christmas songs) invitations to increase my penis size (how did they know?), Rupert Murdoch and all his manifestations, the entire British tabloid press (c.f. Rupert Murdoch) and reality bloody television.
The problem is that the full time cruising lifestyle lies outside the rather narrow limits of the bureaucratic mindset. Take, for example, the small matter of bankers. (Yes, I realise that I have broken with modern journalistic and conversational etiquette and that the plural noun 'bankers' should always be preceded by a string of at least five derogatory adjectives, one of which must be 'greedy', although 'avaricious' is a permitted alternative for Guardian readers). There will now be a short recess while everyone has a quick rant and gets things off their chests.
Better? Good.
Right, to continue; it is increasingly difficult, if not impossible, to function in a modern society without at least one bank account. You try opening a bank account if you enter 'No fixed abode' in the address field. You might just as well put 'child pornographer' under 'occupation'. This is despite the fact that, according to the Local Government Finance Act of 1988 'No Fixed Abode' is a valid residential address.
Even having an accommodating friend allowing you to use their address is no solution. Anti money laundering regulations imposed on the banks require proof residence at a given address. Utility bills in your name are normally demanded. We don't have any of these. On top of that they require a written, signed and sealed confirmation from an upstanding member of society that you are an upright, law-abiding chap and all-round good egg. Certainly not an international terrorist, drug smuggler, white slaver, recently deposed middle eastern despot or Mark Thatcher.
The abovementioned affidavit has to be signed by someone really trustworthy. As we found to our cost, senior hospital managers and heads of large secondary schools are far too suspect. No, it's got to be someone totally above suspicion. So, who do they suggest? I'll tell you, since you ask - they suggest a banker
(pause for ritual 2 minutes hate)
or
(wait for it) ...
A lawyer!
As if anyone laundering large amounts of cash isn't going to have an entire retinue of bent lawyers at his beck and call, all of them doing their level best to get their heads as far up his arse as possible.
Nevertheless, the cruising life has, historically, been relatively free from bureaucratic interference. There has been a minimum of required documentation and we have been traditionally looked upon as a milch cow by the private sector such as marina owners, local businesses and restaurants rather than by governments. The mafia don't usually bother with us - there's far more money to be made in construction, prostitution, protection, drugs and gambling. Recently, however, the bloody governments have started to stick their oars in.
It may have escaped your notice, but the governments in this neck of the woods have traditionally had a wee bit of trouble extracting taxes from their citizens, especially the more wealthy ones. In Italy, for example, it was found that individuals declaring an annual income of less than 20 000 euros possessed between them:
*188 000 supercars (BMWs, Ferraris, Lamborghinis etc)
*518 private planes and helicopters (and the next one's the PITA for us)
*42 000 superyachts.
A similar situation exists in Greece (and probably, to be honest, in most other countries).
Governments tried to get round this by levying a wealth tax on the abovementioned fripperies, but their owners neatly sidestepped this by registering them in another country (frequently the U.K. as it happens). The governments promptly responded by slapping a daily tax on every yacht that wanders into their waters.
That, though, is only the start of things. Now we've come to the notice of the bloody bureaucrats. C. Northcote Parkinson got their number as long ago as 1957. His most famous law was that work expands to fill the time allotted, but he really hit the nail on the head with the law's two axioms:
*An official wants to multiply subordinates, not rivals
*Officials make work for each other.
As a result, the prime objective for any bureaucrat is to expand the empire of his sphere of influence. Creating regulations is a cracking way to do this. The practicality or desirability of these regulations is immaterial. In the interests of the sanity of our remaining reader one example will have to suffice.
The EU has a ship inspection scheme for visiting vessels. It was originally set up to ensure that commercial shipping had some basic essentials such as plimsoll lines, charts, lifejackets, medical kits and fire-fighting equipment. This started from the perfectly reasonable assumption that it's not a good idea to have thundering great ships, overloaded with dangerous cargoes while staffed with a skeleton crew of under qualified, sleep deprived Filipinos charging through crowded waterways without so much as an AA road map, an inflatable crocodile, a packet of band-aids or a wet flannel on board. This basic good idea was extended last year to cover yachts. Typically though, two archetypal bureaucratic behaviours came into play:
Firstly, the system has to be easily bureaucratically executed. This means that they measure and record things that are easily measurable and recordable, rather than things that are important. Documents, therefore, take precedence over physical inspection by experts.
Secondly, the whole system has to fit a standard form, so no effort is made to modify inspections in order to make them appropriate to the particular vessels being inspected.
As a result, we have the absurd position where a yacht is expected to adhere to IMO Resolution A.892(21), which requires the documentation of a vessel's movement from berth to berth. This means that if a yacht finds its anchorage compromised by, say, weather change or the arrival of a sodding great gulet full of absolutely bladdered partying Russians, and decides to up anchor and move 200 metres across the bay, this movement must be officially documented in the ship's log. Failure to do so is an offence under the memorandum of understanding. Tot up a few more infractions like this and they can detain your boat.
And don't get me started on the Turkish Blue Card Scheme.
I'll save that for later.