bout de papier, Vol. 11, No. 3 (1994) — Fall 1994 // Automne 1994, pp. 31–33
Oye Gladys, pass the sunscreen What eats 300 pounds of bacon, 175 pounds of steak, 300 pounds of chicken, 300 pounds of pasta, 300 pounds of cheese and drinks 20 cases of white wine and 20 cases of red in three days? If you guessed an 800passenger ship on a three-day cruise, then you win a funky pink drink in a tall glass with a little red umbrella.
From the first step off the jetway at Miami International, you are met by a set of interesting sensations — nothing like the smell of burning cow dung as you step from the plane at three in the morning in Delhi or the sight of barbed wire and gun emplacements as you taxi up to the gate at Kimpo. No, what you hear is a mixture of Spanish, the Bronx and the deep South. What you see are logoed signs from the various cruise-lines waving in the air seeking out silver-haired, white-belted, bermuda-shorted adventurers looking for three to seven days of fun in the sun.
As the new Canadian Trade Commissioner in town with a mandate to help Canadian companies do business in South Florida, the largest market opportunity was right in front of me as I stepped off the plane in August 1989. The Miami cruise sector generates approximately five billion dollars a year in revenue; food procurement represents about 20 percent of the total. Since Canada has a large and growing processed food sector, one of my first thoughts was to organize an event to bring the two together. However, it was three years before all the pieces of the puzzle fit, and we were able to stage a solo food show to promote Canadian products and suppliers to the South Florida hospitality market.
The time it took to properly organize this event and, more importantly, make the right contacts to ensure the event’s success, underlines the challenges facing a sole Trade Commissioner opening a new satellite office. You might think that since Canada is the U.S.’s largest trading partner and there are so many Canadians living and vacationing in South Florida (10% of the Canadian population visits Florida over the course of a year and spend over three billion U.S. dollars), that local companies would not find dealing with Canada so novel. (I later found out that the vast majority of Canadian exports and exporters never make it south of Cincinnati.)
Setting up a satellite office of a Canadian consulate is a lonely business and certainly not for everyone. I had opened the Santa Clara high-tech satellite office in 1985 and, therefore, had an idea of what was involved However, Santa Clara was only 50 miles from the then-San Francisco consulate and making regular visits was easy. Miami is 700 miles away from Atlanta and visits there were infrequent. So many details are involved initially — office site location, office banking arrangements, personal banking arrangements, personal car insurance (a major issue, since our car was stolen within the first month), housing selection, and moving with the resultant family concerns — that when these endless details were more-or-less worked out, the real job of figuring out where to begin seemed monumental. With no previous experience in the consumer goods sector and no real understanding of how to get started, I decided that the cruise sector would have to wait.
Talk’s Cheap, it takes Money to Buy Whiskey My first task was to get a grip on the South Florida market and begin the process of making contacts. The then Minister of International Trade, John Crosbie, officially opened the new office in Miami. The office had only been open for five months, but 150 people turned out to the ribbon cutting.
When I say starting a satellite office is a lonely business, I mean you have no one to kibitz with over the course of the day. In a big office when you are looking for additional input on some pressing issue or looking for someone to talk about the Canadian political scene (read Expos), it is not too hard to find a person to share your distractions. Not so when you are on your own. You have no choice but to get out of the office, make calls and determine how best to represent Canadian commercial and economic interests.
I did find counsel in Bob Brown, the Trade Commissioner in Orlando. Bob passed away unexpectedly last year and is sorely missed by me and many others in the Trade Commissioner Service. Bob’s one-liners, cheeriness and general perspective on life were uplifting. His contacts in and knowledge of the Orlando region were unmatched. His oft-used phrase “talk’s cheap, takes money to buy whiskey” comes to my mind on numerous occasions, especially when dealing with Canadian companies who believe they have the best bout de papier Vol. quality product and the most competitive pricing.
Bob and I, and those of other satellite offices, have commiserated on the necessary evils of reporting requirements. With so little administrative support at your disposal, the time spent on reports directly affects your ability to work on behalf of Canadian companies. It is hoped that the new electronic systems will free up time now spent on justification of resources and planning for direct trade development activity.
I Can’t Seem to Find a T-Shirt to Go with My Armani Suit
If someone had asked you in 1989 to go to Miami, what would be the first thoughts to cross your mind? For most Canadians, it would probably be a consideration of what size of hand gun to carry for protection. Guns and Miami’s reputation for crime didn’t really enter my mind when I was asked about taking the job. My first thought was whether we received the cable channel which had the reruns of Miami Vice. What better way to get an idea of the lay of the land? Here was the Post Report in technicolour and stereo-surround sound.
Miami Vice placed the city on the map for the Europeans. Certainly Miami Beach has received a huge influx of foreign capital (not necessarily drug related), and the show’s style may have initiated the interest. When we arrived in the fall of ’89, the “Beach” was just beginning to reap the benefits of the Art Deco resurgence. We could even find a parking spot within a two-minute walk to the one or two good restaurants on Ocean Drive. Out of the 30 Art Deco-style hotels within the fifteen blocks of Ocean Drive, maybe 8 had been renovated
On the terrace of a beautifully redone ’50s-style hotel, you could overlook the beach and a palm tree-lined boulevard full of Porsche Carerras, Ferraris, various models of BMWs (pedestrian vehicles for Miami), Rolls Royces and Lamborginis. (It was later in our tenure that the Harley became the vehicle of choice for the Beach.)
However, if you were to gaze to the right or the left, you saw a totally different sight — crumbling historic buildings with rows of lawn chairs on the front porch. Day or night, the lawn chairs were full of generationally-challenged individuals watching the world go by. No one read, no one slept, and, come to think of it, although they sat in full sun, no one had a tan. Over the four years we spent in Miami all the hotels on Ocean Drive were renovated. In fact, several prominent people became neighbours on Ocean Drive such as the hotelier, Gloria Estefan and Versace, the renowned designer who converted a 50 room hotel to a private residence. No longer could you find a parking spot and, quite frankly, it wasn’t as much fun.
This aside, we arrived in Miami at the right time. We missed the fall-out from the Mariel Boatlift, and we enjoyed the benefits of seeing and being part of a city becoming revitalized. Silicon Valley, my previous post, was technology driven. Miami was just driven. But I still want to know where all the old people on Ocean Drive went.
One Man’s Disaster is Another Man’s Goldmine
Hurricane Andrew blasted in our last year in Miami. On Friday, August 21, 1992, my family and I were in Sacramento California planning to return to Miami after two weeks of vacation in the Sierra Nevadas. We hadn’t been paying any attention to the outside world, but I had heard that there was a severe weather system building in the Atlantic. During the season (May to November), hurricanes are a constant threat to South Florida, but Miami had gone twenty-five years without being hit by one. On Saturday I got up early to discover that “Andrew” was on course to hit South Florida. We decided to return to ready our home and save our dog and two cats. In retrospect, I am sure the animals would have survived and possessions could have been replaced. Living through a hurricane with sustained winds of over 165 miles per hour is not an experience worth repeating.
The house and the animals made it through unscathed. However, it took us three days to get out of our street because nobody had thought to buy a chain saw. Come to think of it, a huge generator would have been useful too. We went a month without electricity — there’s a reason that Miami was not populated in the summer before air conditioning. Our friends managed to hardwire an industrial-size diesel generator with enough capacity to run their house’s air conditioning system to their circuit board.
The horrible devastation caused by the storm brought the immediate interest of Canadian business. Our side of the office building did not suffer any damage and the electricity and air conditioning was running immediately after the storm. From the first minute I walked in the door, I was dealing with contractors, modular and mobile home builders, water purveyors, good samaritans, charlatans, you name it. Senior officials at the US Army Corps of Engineers became good contacts, and we managed to set up a system where we were faxed all upcoming bids open to competition from Canadian firms. I can’t remember how many enquiries the office handled over the next six months, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the office isn’t still working on the odd contract.
Even this Must Pass
The basic premise behind opening a satellite office is to capitalize on opportunities for Canadian business. Over the years many in the Department thought Miami should be a Consulate because of the number of Canadians who visit the area and the importance of Miami as the “entrepot” for Latin America. This notion had always been resisted until in my last year when three Canadians were killed in South Florida. This may have been a motivating force to increase the size of our presence. Now there are twelve people in the office handling trade, consular, police liaison and immigration issues.
Opening an office in a new market is, in my view, the essence of being a trade commissioner. To me, Miami in 1989 is what Sydney was to John Larke in 1894. You are a lot of things to a lot of people, and it is easy to see the fruits of your labour.
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 11, No. 3 (1994) — Fall 1994 // Automne 1994, pp. 31–33. Read the rest of this issue →
