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Investing in Hope by
The
TaleWagger
On an island, close to the mainland, is a village called Hope. Over the years, the prosperity of its inhabitants has ebbed and flowed like the mighty Atlantic Ocean, which incessantly crashes at its steep shoreline. Not having easy access to the sea, the options of becoming fishermen or smugglers were never practical and other ways of earning a living had never been easy. However, these close-knit, doughty people had grown accustomed to weathering the financial storms by leading a frugal but happy life. With only one access road, via a narrow bridge, they were in a 'cul-de-sac of Time'. However, with the stresses of modern-day living, 'them outsiders' were beginning to search for remote places, such as Hope, to relax in. Slowly at first, but then rapidly, bed-and-breakfast accommodation became a handy source of income; at first to supplement, but then to take over from the centuries-old toil of vegetable growing. With this new prosperity burning a hole in their pockets, many of the villagers had decided to expand by pooling their wealth. Very soon small weekend-dwellings started to sprout up in the vegetable fields. Success bred success and the villagers thrived. Meanwhile, in a cleft between the coastal cliffs just a mere couple of miles away by air, but about ten by steep, slippery and twisting paths was the hamlet of Little Hope. With only four turf-roofed stone cottages it nestled peacefully in a small, sheltered cove. They were protected from the winds by the cliff-sides, from the sea by jagged rocks that acted as a breakwater and from civilisation by having no vehicle access. With the Custom's men clamping down on their small smuggling business a few years back, the inhabitants had learned to become virtually self-sufficient. The few things that they could not catch, grow or make they obtained by selling surplus potatoes which they grew in the only field that they had. They considered Life to be worth living, as they enjoyed the beauty of the scenery, the fresh food, and not having to worry about money. They had often seen, during their visits to Hope, what it was like to be without money in a 'modern world'. However, with the advent of sustained prosperity, the villagers of Hope now scornfully referred to the families of the hamlet as the 'little or no-hopers'. The only thing that they were jealous of was the potatoes that they grew. In all of the many centuries of growing potatoes on the island, none has ever tasted nicer than those grown in the hamlet of Little Hope. Due to their scarcity they had become a 'must-have' delicacy, a once-a-month treat, to the villagers of Hope. With the tourist trade becoming the main source of income for Hope, and the demand seemingly endless, the village elders decided to expand into the mass market. They decided to approach the EEC for a development grant and build a family holiday complex, complete with a new road into the village. The day duly arrived for the visit by the EEC delegation to view the site and proposals. Travelling by car they realised the need for a new road long before they reached the village! They admired the beautiful countryside and the fine views out to sea from the cliff-top and agreed that the proposed site of the holiday site was perfect. They then drove into Hope where the villagers put on an impeccable display of hospitality, including a feast of the finest foods of the area. Of course, it included potatoes from Little Hope. Everything was going perfectly until the head of the delegation tasted a Little Hope potato, and his subsequent comment became the beginning of the end! The chain of events that followed on, from a simple compliment about the flavour, beggars belief but that is how it was. On hearing his superior's appraisal of the humble potato, a deputy tried his. He agreed, if anything, he thought that his boss had made an understatement. The following day he contacted a colleague and requested investigation of the potato's source, with a view to obtaining, at worst, a regular supply for his boss and, at best, a regular supply for their headquarter's restaurant in Brussels. The following week, when he had discovered just how scarce the potatoes were, he despatched an official to Little Hope. His task was to discover why only their potatoes were so tasty, with their uniquely distinctive flavour, and whether the output could be increased. He felt that the potential was overwhelming, and satisfying it would bring increased employment to the area, as well as praise and perhaps promotion! The official met with the friendly crofters and, after promising them uninmaginable wealth and tickling their palates with more than a few drops of 'the hard stuff', the official learned the secret of the tasty spuds; it was fish! Well, not just any old fish but prime sea bass! The official listened carefully as the precise details of how the potatoes were grown was explained to him. Each summer and autumn night, for countless years, when the sea was relatively calm, the able-bodied men of Little Hope would venture out in their small boats. They would row a tight route between the jagged rocks that only they knew, and fish for sea bass, beneath the cliffs among the rocks. At daybreak, they would return with their catch, take a few hours well-earned rest and then go to the potato field. There they would dig-in the fish, ready for the next crop of potatoes to be planted later in the year. This went on until all of the area designated for potatoes was 'fertilized'. When the crofters had finished, the amazed official explained that they could receive almost ten times more income, by selling the prime sea bass for food than from selling the potatoes. He asked why they had not tried to sell them before, and they said that they had assumed that the fish were worth very little, as the area around the cove teemed with them! Next day the official returned to Brussels, contacted an associate in the Fisheries Department and explained the situation. After negotiation between experts in the two departments, the grant, which was provisionally approved for the holiday complex at Hope, was diverted to Little Hope. Enormous machines smashed a way through the cliffs, a road was laid through the potato field, the four homely cottages were demolished and a small harbour was built. The cove was dredged, the jagged rocks removed and a loan was given to buy two trawlers to catch the sea bass. At Hope, due the disturbance caused by the construction of the new road to Little Hope, and the lack of new investment, tourism died out. In Little Hope, because of the harbour construction work, the removal of the rocks where the fish bred, and over-fishing by the two large trawlers, within a year of completion the area was barren of fish. Without fish, homes and their field there was no way that the crofters could repay the loan or even survive, they had to move away. Nowadays, in Hope there is now little hope, while for Little Hope there is no hope at all! The End
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