A serious game in which a life means nothing
The view from the hill atop which St. Maarten's House of Detention sits is spectacular - the waters of the Caribbean sparkle turquoise and navy to a limitless horizon.
But for accused Bermudian drug runner Winston Robinson, who is entering his fourth week of captivity behind its great, grey concrete walls the view must be torture. He looks out onto the very waters where he was arrested by local authorities aboard his boat the Carl Senior with five other men and 10,400 pounds of packed marijuana on June 25.
Caribbean drug running is as uncertain and danger-ridden a life as one can imagine. And Robinson claims he has made little to money for all the risks. What is certain however, is that the run he was on when his boat broke down in the territorial waters of this Dutch-governed island nation, was not his first involvement in drug running. Bermuda Police confirm that Robinson has been helping them with their inquiries since his arrest.
Over the course of the recently completed Kirk Roberts trial, it emerged that Robinson was aboard the sailboat Never Come Back when it delivered marijuana to Roberts off Bermuda in December 2000. Roberts was convicted one week ago today of conspiring with Alphonso Holder and others not before the court to import cannabis - one of those others was Winston Robinson.
The Crown star witness against Roberts and Holder, Never Come Back's German captain Heinz (Henry) Golembeck, described Robinson as a "horny old bastard" he had been sailing with for months in a letter he passed to Roberts along with the drugs on that run. The court heard during that trial that Golembeck and Robinson scoured the Caribbean for the drugs on that run while supported financially by Roberts. They were ripped off for $72,000 in Antigua, sent on the trial of the wrong drug (cocaine) in Nevis, and lost an arranged purchase to Police when a boat meeting them was picked up by the Coast Guard off Haiti before they were eventually successful in purchasing marijuana for Roberts in St. Vincent.
Painting his picture of Robinson, Alphonso Holder - the Vincentian man convicted with Roberts - testified that he did not think the tall, white man who sailed with Golembeck, he and the drugs from St. Vincent to Bermuda could have been Robinson.
"I think Winston Robinson is a black man," he said in court. "It's a black's man's name."
Those who have seen him more recently will confirm he is a white man - "he looks a bit like Robinson Crusoe", The Royal Gazette was told.
Unfortunately, St. Maarten authorities refused to grant The Royal Gazette permission to interview Robinson.
While journalists are occasionally given access to prisoners in this Dutch territory of 32,000 people, Chief Prosecutor Cor Merx categorically denied our request.
Under local laws, Robinson can be held in prison for 106 days before his is tried in the Island's Court of First Instance. During this time, Police will continue to build the case against him and the five other accused smugglers.
They are charged with transporting and attempting to import marijuana to St. Maarten. But few believe the drugs on board, said to have originated in Colombia, were destined here where they carry a street value of less than $2 million. Like countless other drug shipments which cross this region after leaving South America, they were probably intended for the more lucrative markets of Europe and the United States. In Bermuda the drugs would carry a street value of nearly $200 million.
Despite Robinson's relatively advanced age, he is unlikely to receive and pity from a local jury in trial - there isn't one. His fate will be decided by a single judge during a trial expected in early September.
Luckily for the accused traffickers however, the Netherlands Antilles shares the same attitude to marijuana as its colonial power. Marijuana is considered a soft drug.
"His sentence will be lighter than if it has been cocaine, crack or heroine, Mr. Merx said.
Robinson is facing a sentence of between four and 20 years. He will be deported after he completes his sentence but The Royal Gazette was told the former Mangrove Bay man has absolutely no desire to return to Bermuda and hopes to join family living in Australia. His boat has already been confiscated and torn apart. Robinson claims, however, that it does not actually belong to him and he is merely a front for another man.
Looking at the dilapidated wooden fishing vessel Carl Senior, it is difficult to believe 150 bales of marijuana and six men could actually fit aboard.
It is difficult to believe anyone would set out on an Atlantic crossing on it but in November 2000 it was sailed from the eastern seaboard of the United States to the British Virgin Islands where it was registered in Robinson's name and he obtained a licence to operate it in the territory's waters.
By that time however, Robinson and the Carl Senior had already caught the attention of law enforcement officials in the Caribbean and Bermuda. Police have been watching and waiting for two years. On June 25, they got their break. Carl Senior broke down 40 miles off St. Maarten and a Dutch navy frigate responded to their radio distress call. The boat reportedly ran out of gas, but Robinson has stringently denied this version of the circumstances of his arrest.
The 10,400 pounds of marijuana aboard were burned just one day later. The volume of the drug was so high local authorities had to make special arrangements for its destruction. The commonly used site could not accommodate them and the drugs had to be taken to the Philipsburg dump where they were burned as heavily armed guards protected the area.
Mr. Merx told The Royal Gazette local authorities confiscated drugs are destroyed immediately out of fear related dealers will try and forcefully take back their lost loot.
"These drugs are worth a lot of money," he said.
Meanwhile, the Carl Senior - which Robinson claims is his only worldly possession - sits in a private St. Maarten boatyard. Mr. Merx asked that The Royal Gazette not reveal the name for security reasons.
And Robinson sits in prison, among a myriad of languages he doesn't understand and is reportedly consumed with fear for his life.
"In this scene a life means nothing," Mr. Merx said. "Drug smuggling is a very serious game."