week Royal Gazette reporter Marcus Day took a cab ride to get a taste of life on Bermuda's meanest streets, from a taxi-driver's perspective. For the purposes of the story the taxi-driver's name has been changed.

It's another sultry Bermuda night as Raymond Seaton cruises towards Middle Town in his white six-seater van.

He decelerates before gunning the cab up St. Augustine Hill, his headlights carving through the darkness in wide, sweeping arcs.

Further along, crude graffiti scrawled along the roadside looms out of the shadows; it's a far cry from the swish well-lit city centre a few streets away.

"You've heard of the White Wall Crew? We're in their territory,'' Mr. Seaton says, easing off the gas pedal to round a sharp bend.

"You know, I've been doing this job for so long that I get to know some of the faces. It's a form of protection.'' He could have been chatting about downtown Kingston or the gangland areas of Los Angeles and New York.

For LA's The Crips, it is easy to read one of Bermuda's somewhat less fearsome equivalents, such as the Crew.

To 48-year-old Mr. Seaton this is simply another late shift, eking out a living as a cabbie in Bermuda.

It's a routine night, and he comes routinely prepared...a six-inch flick knife hidden between his legs, a security guard's black truncheon attached to the gearbox and special mirrors fitted to the windscreen.

The mirrors are an early-warning device; trained on the back seats, they tell him what his passengers are doing, even alert him to an imminent assault.

They also let him study passengers' faces; such a mental record could prove -- and has proved -- key to tracking an assailant down.

The weaponry, the extra mirrors included, is highly illegal, of course. And whenever Mr. Seaton goes to Transport Control Department for a vehicle check-up, he removes it -- albeit temporarily.

Mr. Seaton, however, believes such protection is crucial in an age when taxi-drivers seem fair game to every would-be robber.

And he is scathing about those who would seek to strip him of it.

"You have got to be street smart. Drivers these days carry ice-picks and machetes.

"I know of one man who has a sock with a load of quarters. Imagine what impact that would have if it hit you! "Yes, these types of weapons are illegal, but I've been told no right-minded Policeman would book you if he found them. He would have to be pretty low to do so.'' Mr. Seaton adds: "I've been threatened several times. Once, these youths refused to pay a fare and threatened to `cut me up'.

"Fortunately, I knew one of their mothers and said I would report the incident to her. In the end they paid up.

"I've also been ripped off three times by passengers who ran from the taxi.

"Twice I tracked the culprits down -- one girl received three months imprisonment and a guy got one month. They had broken their probations.'' So why put himself in the line of fire? Why not get out of the taxi business all together? "Things have really got worse over the last ten years, I would say. It's down to drugs, unemployment and sheer laziness.

"Nevertheless, I still like working with the public. Taxi-driving is very educating -- you meet all types of people, such as businessmen and can learn a hell of a lot.

"Some passengers talk their heads off. I remember one girl who had just split up from her boyfriend. I acted as her psychologist.'' It's a rare light moment in an otherwise disconcerting tour of Bermuda's meanest streets.

The cab sweeps out of the Middle Town area and enters an unlit road skirting Pembroke dump. The headlights illuminate an easily-missed street sign -- Perimeter Lane.

Deep into the lane are a group of youths under an umbrella. They eye the cab suspiciously as it pulls up and turns around.

"This is called The Stables -- it's another place where drugs are openly sold, and where some taxi drivers refuse to go,'' says Mr. Seaton.

"For me there aren't any no-go areas. I've been doing the job over 20 years and people in the streets get to know me.

"I even joke with some of the drug dealers and in the past they have helped me identify someone who ripped me off.

"I'm very careful, however, about who I pick up. I always screen people really well and ask up front for money if I suspect they don't have enough cash. Sometimes you can smell a rat, you know what I mean?'' Even with his experience, Mr. Seaton is selective about street pick-ups.

"Whenever I pass through Court Street, for instance, I switch off my `for hire' sign.

"I know a lot of drivers who won't pick up anybody from the streets for fear of attack or getting ripped off.

"Many won't even go to soccer matches or reggae sessions, such as at the Clay House, because they know kids have spent all their money on drink and are broke. My advice to people is that they should call a cab from home.'' Mr. Seaton pauses.

"We are now going to another bad area -- 42nd Street. Again many taxi-drivers won't make a pick-up here. It's a street with a reputation.'' Youths are playing street soccer as the van crawls by them. Others are simply hanging around, lolling at the roadside or drinking from bottles in brown paper bags.

Faces peer curiously at the cab; no doubt a Royal Gazette reporter is rarely seen in such places.

"Crimes against taxi-drivers tend to go in spurts. You get one robbery, then a whole lot of copycat crimes,'' says Mr. Seaton as the cab leaves 42nd Street and heads for Roberts Avenue -- another of Bermuda's seedier haunts.

"I would like to see far more assistance from the TCD. They should work with the Police to protect us, instead of taking our licences away whenever someone complains.

"You need a disciplinary board, but the one we have is like a kangaroo court.

"There are only two taxi drivers on it and they don't have the necessary experience. A lot of rulings go against taxi-drivers, and these days more and more cabbies are hiring lawyers.'' The next stop in Mr. Seaton's tour is Ord Road, Warwick -- scene a few years ago of a neighbourhood anti-drug campaign.

As the cab zips along South Shore Road, Mr. Seaton goes over some of the tricks taxi-drivers have to watch out for.

"Sometimes passengers will show you $50, even though the fare is much smaller. Then they will attempt to grab the change.

"Another thing they do is to tell you to pull over and wait while they visit a friend's house.

"They try to put your mind at ease by leaving a shopping bag in the vehicle, but the bag turns out to be full of garbage.

"You also have to be wary about being hailed by a girl, only to find a group of youths suddenly appear and get into the cab. That kind of thing happens a lot.'' We are now passing Lines Food and Liquor Mart; it's become an Ord Road landmark, warning motorists they are entering a danger zone.

Groups of youths have congregated in the area, and one man swears as the cab crawls by; involuntarily, you tense up.

It's an obvious drug haunt -- and as with the others, not a Policeman is in sight, despite the war on crime declared by Commissioner Colin Coxall.

Why? "That's a good question, and I don't really know the answer,'' says Mr.

Seaton with a shrug.

"It can get pretty rough down here. Many taxi-drivers wouldn't dream of coming here.'' As the cab heads back to The Royal Gazette , Mr. Seaton rails against "soft'' penalties for those who target cabbies.

"I would support bringing back the birch or introducing some form of solitary confinement,'' he says.

"It's getting more and more frightening on the streets, and you have to know the terrain.'' He adds: "I hate to say it, but the day will come when a taxi-driver seriously injures a passenger while defending himself.

"Only then will people really stand up and take notice -- they will realise just what it can be like to drive a taxi these days.'' CRIME CRM