Sinking of the MV Kanadeh

Sinking of the MV Kanadeh

A Political Satire on Debt

BY

MIKE TAYLOR

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Copyright 2012 by Mike Taylor

Smashwords Edition

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This book is a work of fiction. Any character in this book resembling an actual person is entirely coincidental. Any incident or event in this book resembling the current economic and political times is not.

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To my wife Karen, the love of my life. Thank you for your support, encouragement and insightful contributions to the writing of this book.

And to our children: Amanda, Jordan and Lauren; and grandchildren, Kaleb and Jett.

To everyone's children and grandchildren.

WARNING: This book should not be read without a sense of humour.

Table of Contents

Main Characters

1 Ocean of Debt

2 The Great Compromise

3 The Balancing Act

4 Dirty Little Secrets

5 Market Malarkey

6 Idiotology—The Ideology of Idiots

7 The Big Lie

8 Sick Bay—Take a Number

9 Merchants of Debt

10 Thanks to the Banks

11 Wheel of Blame

12 Sinking of the MV Kanadeh

13 Epilogue

MAIN CHARACTERS

-I. M. Stewpidd . . . . . . . . . . . . .Captain

-Mr. Dick Dogood . . . . . . . . . .. Investor and Political Activist

-Mr. Moneybags . . . . . . . . . . . . Banker

-Mr. Olderbutwiser . . . . . . . . . ..Investor and Philanthropist

-Mr. Debtmonger . . . . . . . . . . . .Investor

-Mr. Dunce . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Investor and Corporate Executive

-Mr. Surebet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Investor and Insurance Executive

-Miss Penny Pincher . . . . . . . . . Purser

-Mr. Double-Entry . . . . . . . . . . .Chief Financial Officer

-Mr. De Fuzz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Chief Security Officer

-Mr. Greasenipple . . . . . . . . . . . Chief Engineer

-Mr. Stockjobber . . . . . . . . . . . . Stock Trader

-Mrs. Moneybags . . . . . . . . . . . .Banker's Wife

CHAPTER ONE

OCEAN OF DEBT

"Debt is good. It is the only thing keeping us afloat."

I. M. Stewpidd, Captain

The Motor Vessel Kanadeh was cutting through the sea of debt at a modest 10 knots, its Absurdistan flag waving in the cold North Atlantic wind. It used to cruise at a jaunty 20 knots, but it was running a little sluggish these days, as if its engines were clogged with sludge. Although the ship was almost 150 years old, Captain I. M. Stewpidd did his best to keep it afloat and on course. It was his job to control for buoyancy and stability, he would say, and that is what he put his one track mind to. When the ship took on too much debt, he closed the ballast tanks. When there was not enough debt, he opened them.

It is alright for passengers to fall overboard and drown from their own drunkenness or stupidity, he would say. That is their business. But if it happens from the pitch and roll of the ship, that is my department.

He was a self-confident, no-nonsense kind of skipper who ruled the ship with an iron fist. The kind of man who preferred a hearty handshake to a buddy hug, not wanting any sign of affection to be interpreted as a sign of weakness. But what he may have lacked in human warmth and compassion, he made up for in the force of his unwavering convictions.

No matter what you thought of him personally, if his ship was in peril on the high seas, you knew he would insist on going down with it. He often said as much.

Whenever a squall blew up, and the ship sprang a leak, the captain would commandeer the passengers to bail her out. His seamanship seemed beyond reproach, having completed eleven straight voyages without a budget leak, a record among the seven largest ships in the fleet. As far as he was concerned, he was the undisputed authority on debt management, and everyone should know about it.

When he wasn't monitoring the stock and bond traders in the Snake Pit, you could usually find him strutting around the upper deck mingling with the first class passengers.

My ship is the pride of the fleet, he would boast to anyone who would listen.

But not all the passengers were impressed. To them it seemed that the captain was biased in favour of first class passengers, at the expense of ignoring their own interests. It had not escaped their attention that in gale force winds, when the ship took on more debt than the ballast tanks could handle, he only seemed to hand out bailing buckets to them.

Two deck hands were picking up trash on the upper deck.

Look at him! spat one of them. Prancing around like a peacock. Kissing up to the rich.

Strutting around like a turkey. You mean.

Same thing. A bird that can't fly.

* * *

Ding-a-ling.

"Now hear this. This is your captain speaking. Above the fog and mist, we are having another beautiful day. The annual meeting with ship's officers and the financial elite will be held in the Admiralty Lounge between one and four o'clock. Complimentary cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Only major holders of shares and bonds need attend. For the rest of the passengers, there will be a bingo tournament in the theatre starting at two o'clock for $2.00 a card. Snacks and beverages not included. That is all."

At first it was smooth sailing, not a storm cloud in sight. The passengers went about their daily activities with little direction or interference from the crew, shuttling back and forth from the buffet to the bar, from the pool to the spa, and so forth and so on, as if being guided by an invisible hand.

There was no discord among the passengers, regardless of education or income levels. Maybe there was the occasional grumble, such as when it appeared that the rich were getting special treatment. Like when they got to hobnob with the captain and executive officers in the Admiralty Lounge, while the rest of the passengers had to be content with playing bingo. But on the whole, it was mainly one big happy family. If there was any class warfare brewing, it didn't show.

Besides, the passengers on the middle and lower decks still got to eat in the same buffet and dining room, play the same slot machines in the casino, browse in the same gift shops, lollygag in the same swimming pool and hot tub, and be entertained in the same theatre as the rich passengers. So they all drank and danced, ate until they were bloated, rich and poor alike, seemingly without a care .

The regular passengers would worry about how to pay for the party when they returned to their senses—that is to say, when they could no longer afford to make their debt payments.

Until then, they would pull out their credit cards and party on. If it got a little gloomy sleeping in an inside cabin, where there was no balcony or porthole to view the outside world, they could always comfort themselves with the thought that if they worked hard and long enough they might one day be able to afford a cabin with a window, or even a balcony.

For the most part, they did not begrudge the rich. For the most part, they secretly envied them.

* * *

The legendary investor Mr. Olderbutwiser was reading the Market News on the upper deck. He would usually be trading his heart out in the Snake Pit at this time of day, but it was Saturday and the market was closed. So he had to settle for the newspaper, a poor substitute at the best of times. Occasionally he would look up from his reading to keep an eye on things and see what the world was doing. Sometimes he would even say something out of the blue to his good friend, Dick Dogood.

Don't you think that's rather odd? he asked, pointing to Mr. Double-Entry standing at the railing.

Mr. Double-Entry was the ship's chief financial officer. He had a flair for creative accounting and could perform tricks with profits and losses like a magician with rabbits and playing cards—making them appear or disappear in the blink of an eye. It was all perfectly legal, he said.

Those two deck hands keep bringing him buckets of trash, and he keeps throwing the trash overboard.

Yes, that is strange. I wonder what he's up to.

You know, sometimes I think people like you and me were born under a lucky star. Those workers are paid 50 dabloonies a month to pick up after us. That wouldn't even pay for an afternoon's bar bill for a first class passenger. Saddest part of all, some of them actually think if they work hard enough they could be captain one day.

"They're uneducated for the most part, that's the problem. Stick them in front of a TV, put a beer or soda pop in