Caribbean Stories


Radio Sistema Tropical

Cardinal Points

On Tropical Systems


Diego Azeta

1 July 2018

© 2018 Diego Azeta  ※  All Rights Reserved  ※  Derechos Reservados
A PDF edition of this file (see below) may be downloaded to a personal device for noncommercial personal reading use.
The PDF edition is the final (edited) version of the story.

HELLO AND WELCOME to Cardinal Points. We are glad to be back online and on shortwave radio after not one but two Category Five hurricanes ravaged several islands in the northeastern Caribbean in the space of a fortnight. Radio Sistema Tropical’s main recording studios are located on the beautiful British Virgin Island of Anegada, which was desolated by Hurricane Irma, the first of these monstrous cyclones. Our studios were destroyed by the strongest tropical system ever registered in the open Atlantic. The third of Irma’s landfalls in the Leeward Islands was on Virgin Gorda, 24 kilometres to our south, and brought catastrophic damage to the BVIs and to neighbouring islands. Irma’s force was such that it turned the island of Barbuda uninhabitable. Sustained wind speeds reached 160 knots (184 mph, 296 kph) 200 km east of Antigua and remained at peak strength over Barbuda, Saint-Barthélemy, Saint-Martin/Sint Maarten, Anguilla, the Virgin Islands, and onward to at least 100 km north of Arecibo, Puerto Rico, the strongest intensity recorded for the tropical system on its trek from Cabo Verde to Florida. Fortunately, no loss of life occurred in Anegada, although sadly other islands did not fare as well.

Teriaki: Indeed, Shahrazad, Irma was a terrible hurricane. Speaking for those of us who went through the ordeal, we are grateful to have survived.

Sharazad: Folks, Teriaki stayed right here in Anegada to experience Irma.

T: I had never been in a hurricane, so Irma was a must-do. A bucket-list item, dreaded bucket included. And where did you hunker down for the storm, Ms?

S: London. Charming place to while away the time during tropical cyclones.

T: You sound like a Tory imperialist. Did the foundation send you to London?

S: Yep. Leaving me stranded in my apartment in Tortola was inconceivable.

T: Tortola got blasted back into the Stone Age. Smart foundation managers.

S: Real pros, although I assumed they were going to fly you out to New York.

T: They offered to do that, and at first I agreed. But it soon became clear that roughly half of Anegada’s residents were going to stay put. Heck, I thought, if my friends and neighbours and colleagues are sticking it out here, so should I.

S: Most gallant and courageous of you. Where did the other half go?

T: To Tortola. Turned out to be not the best of places to seek shelter.

S: Tell me. But at least Tortola has mountains. Anegada is entirely flat.

T: Yeah, that and the forecasted storm surge had me worried.

S: Did the sea burst into your home?

T: I don’t know. I slept through most of the storm.

S: Teriaki!

T: I sort of dozed off and when I awoke the thing was just about over.

S: What a way to experience a historic hurricane.

T: Should work just fine for run-of-the-mill hurricanes, too.

S: Last week’s programme had actually been recorded before Irma, but with the storm’s coming it was not possible to air it. It took eight months to rebuild Anegada’s infrastructure, our studios, and finally get the episode released.

T: Good thing the recording was not lost. Other islands are still in the process of disaster recovery. There’s people without power and even homes to this day.

S: Maybe Irma and María will convince diehard climate-change sceptics.

T: No way. Those people have vested interests to protect. Rapscallions. That’s the American way with these neo-libs. Everything they say and do turns out to be wrong. Theirs is a negative-logic world. Actually, an egotistical-logic world; negative logic is at least consistent. There are consequences accompanying that pigheadedly selfish stance. Serious consequences. Objectively demonstrable.

S: Meaning logical. Thus wholly beyond the comprehension of rapscallions.

T: Well, some neo-liberals are aware of the danger of pushing their wackiness to the hilt. But that doesn’t stop them from wallowing in the madness.

S: Ideological drunkenness.

T: It is actually an ideologically induced addiction. As real as one to heroin.

S: How narcoish, hooked by the craving for an endorphin rush.

T: Addiction to power is a ghastly mental illness. Like being a vulgar junkie.

S: Neo-junkies. Irredeemable sociopathic degenerates.

T: They need a syringe exchange programme. Help prevent the epidemic from spreading. Who was the toxic vector par excellence responsible for this mess?

S: Aha! Gimme a sec. Mm … Friedrich Hayek? Ludwig von Mises. Murray Rothbard. Robert Nozick. Milton Friedman?

T: Thou art a woeful feminist.

S: Ayn Rand! Unforgivable.

T: You bet. Next time you can wait for the storm surge at the beach.

S: Really.

T: The power hitters you mentioned tried to rationalize their ideology with big words and mystifying verbosity, the classic pedantic strategy to try to pass off a fallacious subjective argument as an objective fact. Objectivist Rand, on the other hand, spoke the language of the people, writing accessible fiction.

S: What’s wrong with that?

T: Nothing. On the contrary, it’s commendable. The problem with Rand, as is the case with libertarians in general, is that she limits her narratives to only the things she wants the reader to think about. The reader, unaware and passively sticking to her story line, is given no opportunity to consider other viewpoints that could lead him to question the conclusions she intends for him to arrive at.

S: Well, that can be said about anyone, is it not, even us. We present opinions about current geopolitical events and do not dwell on additional interpretations or construals of those events. Are we therefore not doing the same thing?

T: I don’t think so. To begin with, we discuss real events, not fictive scenarios. Our listeners are in a position to verify those events on their own and arrive at what they think is the appropriate conclusion. We are not trying to box anyone into accepting our views as unassailable truth. Corporate media does a pretty good job of presenting what they claim is the truth. Thus our listeners are in a position to examine the arguments and decide for themselves. Cardinal Points is not a closed propaganda server. Everything we discuss is public knowledge: openly available information. Rand cannot claim that for her closed fiction.

S: She is currently not in a position to claim anything.

T: Authors never die. At least not while their works remain in circulation.

S: Okay, granted.

T: Second, we do not create or design any of the events we discuss. We do not set up straw men for the sake of “proving” an argument. We comment on what others, real people, actually say and do. We do not employ specious scripts.

S: Similar to the first although stressing a different aspect. Good. Third?

T: That’s it.

S: That’s it?

T: We run an open shop. Would you like to add another reason?

S: Sure. We are heirs to a tradition of calling a spade a spade. No exceptions.

T: Please tell us about our traditions at Radio Sistema Tropical, Shahrazad.

S: With pride and pleasure. There once was a man who was born and bred in Gibraltar. The child of a Spaniard father and a half-Scottish mother, his name was Hidalgo Colmenero Quijano. But living in an English-speaking enclave in Spain, his mum, Kirstine, took to calling him by the pet name of Sergio.

T: Much easier to pronounce for English speakers.

S: And more familiar. Sergio grew up in the times of maturation of fascism in Europe and the subsequent world war. His father, a Republican partisan in the Spanish Civil War, influenced young Sergio’s views on global politics. The son came of age disdainful of nationalism. When it came time for Sergio to attend university, Kirstine prevailed on him to study in Scotland, which he did at St. Andrews. Upon graduation he decided to become a journalist since, employed as a foreign correspondent, he could readily indulge his passion: wanderlust.

T: A fellow international newsperson, Shahrazad.

S; Yes indeed. Sergio adopted the surname Toledo to concoct his professional nom de plume when he started working for the wire services. His assignments took him to every part of Europe on both sides of the Iron Curtain. The Cold War was raging and Sergio beheld the submission imposed on the countries of the Eastern Bloc. He saw things as black or white, as the West had ordained.

T: With Stalin in power, the East to the West was not Red but black.

S: Red was black regardless. Needless to say, the West touted itself as white.

T: Symbolization was much simpler then. Like cowboy hats in the Old West.

S: Like in Hollywood’s Old West. In 1965, Sergio was sent to Saigon as a war correspondent. During that year the dispatches he filed, although hewing to the line of reporting events from a neutral standpoint, were manifestly sympathetic to the American narrative of fighting to save the world from communism.

T: The Boris and Natasha syndrome at work.

S: That’s Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale, from The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. This 1960s animated cartoon television programme served to brainwash American kids into seeing commies as despicable baddies. Those kids are now watching the extreme right-wing propaganda bullhorn of Fox News. Fox is the most watched cable news network in America. The “intellectual level” of their programmes is no greater than that of the Rocky and Bullwinkle series.

T: Therefore a guaranteed success.

S: Sergio left Vietnam at the end of the year but returned for a second posting in 1968. The world had changed enormously in the short span of three years. The Guardian newspaper calls 1968 “the year that changed history”, for it was an intense period of unprecedented worldwide revolt. People everywhere were fed up with the status quo and were not willing to take the abuse anymore. The effect on the American sociopolitical establishment was spectacularly virulent, leading some to fear that the country could actually fall apart.

T: Would have preceded the collapse of the Soviet Union by over two decades and saved the world a lot of grief.

S: And as in the aftermath of the USSR, no one would have invaded anyone.

T: Dang! Missed it by that much.

S: The first thing Sergio ran up against in '68 Vietnam was the Tet Offensive. Our old friends, The Best and the Brightest, had been hawking the notion that «victory was around the corner». The reality was that around the corner from Thong Nhut Boulevard in Saigon, the Viet Cong were assaulting the American embassy compound as well as anything of military value all over the Republic of (South) Vietnam. American viewers watching on television quickly realized that this was really Badenov. All of a sudden the Vietnam War was seen as not only unwinnable but a resounding failure. Although the US eventually won all the battles of the Tet Offensive, it was a strategic victory for the Democratic Republic of Vietnam. For it revealed who would inexorably win the war.

T: Yes, but history shows that the US never learns anything from history.

S: Sergio Toledo, however, certainly did. Tet made him aware of the fact that he knew next to nothing of why there still was a war in Vietnam even after the French had relinquished their former colony and signed the Geneva Accords in 1954. Also puzzling him was the well-known fact that the National Liberation Front, the political superstructure of the Viet Cong, was tremendously popular in South Vietnam. Something was not right. It seemed that no one anywhere in Vietnam gave a damn about fighting to save the world from communism.

T: Soldiers of the army of South Vietnam front and centre. Give the ingrates a hefty dose of hearts and minds, barked the American war-machine honchos.

S: The standard Anglo-American remedy, whether it works or not.

T: Why are these people so dumb, yet think of themselves as intelligent?

S: Because they are indeed dumb. Money can’t buy you brains. Sergio read up on Vietnamese history and discovered that after the French were clobbered at Điện Biên Phủ, they agreed with the Viet Minh at Geneva on four key points. One, the colony of French Indochina was kaput: Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos would gain their independence. France was out. Au revoir, bâtards.

T: Sacré bleu! Finally, some long overdue intelligent behaviour.

S: Only because Dien Bien Phu forced the French to behave rationally.

T: The French have always behaved less stupidly than the Americans.

S: Not by much, though. Certainly no better than the Engländer.

T: You’re the Brit, Shahrazad; you should know.

S: Two, agreement was reached on a three-tiered cease fire ending hostilities.

T: Let me do a little celebration dance here: ♬ Hava Nagila Hava … Hey!

S: Three, to implement the cease fire, Vietnam was to be temporarily divided into two military zones at the 17th parallel.

T: Temporarily.

S: For a period of only two years, to be precise. The Final Declaration of the Accords stated that “the military demarcation line is provisional and should not in any way be interpreted as constituting a political or territorial boundary”.

T: I’m impressed by your grasp of historical details.

S: I’m just reading off entries from my mobile-device reference archive.

T: Ah, but wisely selecting what to store in the archive is no less impressive.

S: Why, thank you. Every good journalist keeps key references close at hand. Four, internationally supervised, “free general elections by secret ballot” would be held throughout Vietnam in July 1956. The nation of Vietnam would then be unified in accordance with the results of the election.

T: Everything sounds peachy keen. So what was the problem?

S: The USA. They refused to sign the Geneva Accords because it was obvious that the communists would win the election. Ho Chi Minh was a national hero to the Vietnamese for his defiance of Imperial Japan and Imperial France.

T: Next in line: Imperial America. And Ho once more prevailed! Ho, Ho, Ho!

S: Here’s a spade: Ho Chi Minh is the foremost leader of the 20th century.

T: I hear the gnashing of teeth. American Bullwinkle-bred teeth.

S: Too bad for the Bullwinklers. The runner-up will make their teeth crack.

T: Mm … someone who stood up to the goddamn bastards … Fidel Castro!

Crack!

S: If they can’t see past their ideological blinders, their empire shall be brief.

T: Alleluia! اللّٰهُ أَكْبَر‎ Tiếng hoan hô! Ура! !هورا 歡呼! Did I miss anyone?

S: You are truly a man of the United Nations, Teriaki.

T: They don’t make them like this anymore. In this style 10/6.

S: Nor like Sergio Toledo. His dispatches began to be more critical of what he considered errors of doctrine of the Americans. Many other reporters adopted the milder policy errors posture, but Sergio’s criticisms went deeper: the good old USA, in his view, was actually a Soviet Union-like apparatus that benefited the ruling capitalists. The “liberty” battle cry was propagandistically equivalent to the “people’s democracy” slogan: intrinsically vacuous. The war in Vietnam was being prosecuted solely for the benefit of Ike’s military-industrial complex and downstream business interests. It was a straightforward capitalist racket.

T: Smedley D. Butler scores once again. You heard it here first, folks.

S: Perhaps. But General Butler was correct: war is a racket.

T: Western wars. Anglo-American wars in particular. Corporate fat cat wars.

S: The business of America is war. Industrial-strength recurrent wars.

T: Now it’s industrial-strength permanent wars. Smoothes out the cash flow.

S: Don’t just take our word for it. Check out the fat cats’ historical stock price valuations and correlate them to the stock market’s performance as a whole.

T: Milton must be dancing in his grave.

S: According to Milton, the only thing the government should do is maintain a standing military. So Miltonian. That’s what sustains his capitalist economy.

T: But what has that to do with liberty for the ordinary citizen?

S: Nothing at all. The liberty is for the plutocracy. Liberty to plunder.

T: Plutocrats that never send their kids off to fight their very profitable wars.

S: The Achilles’ heel of the Vietnam War was compulsory military service. If teens had been drafted to fight in Iraq and Afghanistan and Syria and so on, we would have seen 1968s galore. That was the number one lesson learned by the military-industrial complex: Abolish the draft. Not good for business.

T: Hell no, they won’t go! Unless you throw in some bonuses.

S: Now you’re talking. You also wind up with ideologically vetted recruits.

T: Moneygrubbers. Why didn’t Kissinger come up with this clever ploy?

S: Because he’s just as dense as his former boss.

T: Denser. An idiot savant. Nixon was just plain idiot. But K is not a crook.

S: Worse. K is a nefarious war criminal. A mass killer. SS-calibre murderer.

T: And a sleazy putsch criminal. The criminal mind behind the original 9/11.

S: Had he set foot in Cuba, Fidel would have trashed him to the firing squad.

K: “Vhat President Nixon und I tried to do vas unnatural. Und zat is vhy vee didn’t make it.”

C: ¡Fusilen a ese cabeza de mierda!

S: Pretty good impersonations, Teriaki.

T: Wait till you see my Dick Cheney.

S: Those are the villains that actually ran the White House in their time.

T: Zat is zee vay zee USA vorks. The president is merely a figurehead.

S: No secret then why they have a deep state.

T: A deep Praetorian Guard. Fangs grinned visible with Camelot. You should store that in your reference archive. Filed under “A” for assassins.

S: Sergio Toledo left Vietnam disillusioned. Western liberal democracy was in fact no better than Eastern people’s democracy. Genuine democracy was dead.

T: I don’t think it was ever alive, even in classical Greece.

S: Well, Plato was no fan of democracy. That by itself speaks volumes. Upon his return to Britain, Sergio decided to become an independent journalist so as to have the freedom to thoroughly investigate Western autocratic governments, particularly the regime running the US and controlling the Western Bloc. This became possible due to a modest inheritance he had recently received.

T: He should have opted for early retirement in the BVIs.

S: We’re getting there. Sergio soon noticed that England’s stodgy post-colonial mores dampened his radical spirit. A subtle propaganda saturated everything. The climate was not conducive for crafting works of social criticism.

T: Marx had faced a similar situation.

S: But Sergio did not have an Engels by his side.

T: Well, there aren’t that many Engelses to go around.

S: He moved to Paris but the morass remained. Madrid was much worse with Franco El Gran Bastardo still in charge. Even Gibraltar was now intellectually unacceptable.

T: Solid confirmation that there had been genuine intellectual growth.

S: Agreed. But Gibraltar gave him an idea: tiny retreats could maybe serve as intellectual sancta sanctorum. So he tried out the European tiny principalities: Andorra, Monaco, and Liechtenstein, as well as the Republic of San Marino.

T: What, no Città del Vaticano?

S: Mm, a bit too sanctum, perhaps? At any rate, the principalities were of no use. They were more like playgrounds for the rich.

T: Full of fat cats, eh? History teaches us to avoid fat cats like the plague.

S: There’s only one way to deal with fat cats: boycott their corporations.

T: Works like a charm. Boycotts is something the fatsos understand.

S: Deal with people in ways they understand. Communication rule #1.

T: Oogah! Oogah! Me beat chest!

S: Teriaki! What will our listeners think?

T: That I am imitating the fatsos, deep state morons, and neo-lib junkies.

S: Western civilization has hit bottom.

T: Nah, these beasts can scrape really low. See what the goddamn Engländers did to Russian defector Sergei Skripal and his daughter so as to blame Russia.

S: Outrageously abhorrent. Not even the Nazis stooped so low. But we should leave that for another programme. We’re running low on time.

T: So are the Skripals. They must emigrate fast to a safe haven, like Russia.

S: Categorically. Now then, browsing in a San Marino bookstore, Sergio came across a copy of Captain Blood, the adventure novel by Rafael Sabatini he had first read in his youth. Unscrupulous Engländers roam everywhere in the story. “England requires purifying”, Sabatini wrote. But what caught his eye was the following description of a Caribbean island Sabatini called La Virgen Magra:

… a narrow little island arid and treeless, some twelve miles by three, uninhabited save by birds and turtles and unproductive of anything but salt, of which there were considerable ponds to the south.

S: Sergio knew that Sabatini was meticulous in his fiction, always embedding his stories in an impeccable context of factual reality. Sabatini’s Virgen Magra, he realized, had to therefore exist. He went back to the bookstore to consult a world atlas. Virgen Magra (Lean Virgin) should logically be in the vicinity of some other island named, say, Virgen Gorda (Fat Virgin), he surmised. Bingo! Just 24 km due north of Virgin Gorda lies Sergio’s enchanting Anegada, quite similar to Sabatini’s description save for the nearly 300 inhabitants it now has.

T: Sergio Toledo was a regular Sherlock Holmes, Shahrazad. Sharp enough to have been a heroic literary character like Captain Blood.

S: Just about. The question now was: would Anegada be the secluded paradise he was seeking to let his critical thinking bloom unimpeded by the overbearing Cold War propaganda and rampant consumerism? Only one way to find out.

T: Fly to San Juan, St. Thomas, Antigua or St. Maarten, then charter an island hopper to Anegada’s then new airport, a teeny airstrip.

S: Which is what Sergio did. And lo and behold, he fell madly in love with the unpresumptuous coral virgin isle.

T: Happened to me, too.

S: That hardly comes as a surprise, Teriaki; you’re a native coral islander.

T: I knew there was a reasonable explanation for this.

S: Teriaki, please. It took Sergio some time to move permanently to Anegada. But once he put his affairs in order, he did so and never looked back.

T: What affairs were those that took him some time to put in order?

S: Basically, getting a shortwave radio broadcasting licence and arranging for portable transmission equipment to be procured and shipped to Anegada.

T: This guy was serious.

S: Indeed he was. He opted for the medium of radio since communications by the spoken word for a lone operator was easier than diffusing written material. It would not have been possible to put out daily reports and disseminate them internationally in anything other than shortwave radio. Nowadays, the medium of choice would be a blog on the Internet, of course.

T: Is that why we still do shortwave broadcasts, tradition?

S: No, not at all. We beam our programmes to Africa, Latin America, and the Caribbean. Shortwave radio is still popular in many parts of these regions.

T: But we no longer operate transmission facilities, at least not in the BVIs.

S: Correct. Shortwave transmissions are outsourced to Radio Habana Cuba.

T: The gringos will have a fit.

S: RST approached the BBC and Radio Nederland first. They said no.

T: Aha! The plot thickens.

S: Well, hard to say. By then shortwave radio listening was on the decline and the big state broadcasters were pulling up stakes.

T: Right. Radio Nederland Wereldomroep actually closed up shop altogether. They’d built and operated a powerful relay station in Bonaire for service to the Americas and Australasia. Closer to RST in Anegada was the Caribbean Relay Station in Antigua, a joint operation by the BBC and Deutsche Welle. Antigua serviced the Western Hemisphere and parts of Africa with four Marconi 250 kW transmitters, five electrical power generators each rated at one megawatt, and six or seven antenna towers each holding multiple antennas. Unfortunately, cancer mortality rates for Antigua skyrocketed two decades after transmissions had started. The station was shut down in 2005. Radio Nederland, on Bonaire, operated two Philips 300 kW and one 250 kW transmitters, six capable power generators rated at 500 kW each, and 17 imposing antenna towers. To the best of my knowledge, RNW did not suffer the cancer electromagnetic anomaly in Bonaire. They ceased operations in 2012 because of the Internet’s superiority as a mass communications medium. A great loss for shortwave radio listeners.

S: You are still a master of shortwave radio lore.

T: A most wonderful pastime. Entertaining yet educational.

S: All activities should be so rewarding. Sergio started broadcasting with his low-powered rig in the spring of 1972. His transmissions were received rather clearly in western Europe and eastern North America, his target regions.

T: From Anegada to his targets there’s only open ocean: no man-made EMI.

S: Translation, please?

T: Electromagnetic interference: unwanted signals that affect the radio waves being transmitted. There is always some EMI present, such as that caused by lightning and cosmic rays. But there is virtually no noise from other electronics circuits. Low-powered radio signals travel far and crisply for the most part.

S: By the way, did you pick up Bonaire in Kiritimati?

T: All the time. They helped me polish my Spanish. Fond memories.

S: Sergio named his operation Radio Sistema Tropical in honour of La Virgen Magra. It also fit in with the Spanish term anegada, of course. His broadcasts were diminutively advertised in SWL magazines and hobbyist handbooks, and in time they picked up their fair share of listeners.

T: Standing tall with the big boys.

S: Indeed. When he started running out of money, he called on his listeners to assist with donations. A group of politically liberal Europeans that formed part of his devoted audience responded by establishing The Anegada Foundation. It became the main and later sole sponsor of Radio Sistema Tropical.

T: Fine group of people.

S: The best. Without them Sergio’s dream would probably not have survived.

T: It not only survived but blossomed into a multilingual, independent, current affairs-global news station. RST does not answer to any national government.

S: Nor corporation. A striking breakthrough then and even more striking now.

T: Well put. Please tell us the ending of the story of Sergio, Shahrazad.

S: Sergio expanded the station’s offerings with a small staff he recruited. He also kept researching, writing, and broadcasting his material till the very night he passed on. On New Year’s Eve 2014, when he was 85 strong, Sergio went to sleep with a smile on his face and did not wake up in the morning.

T: No better way to depart Tierra Madre.

S: None indeed.

T: We have an extraordinary legacy to live up to.

S: That we certainly do.

T: When the foundation asked me in New York if I would consider coming to RST, I was honoured. I was one of Sergio’s loyal listeners for many years, both on shortwave and later on the Web.

S: Did you ever meet him in person?

T: Lamentably, no. I never had the chance to visit Anegada and he tried hard not to visit New York. In that he was as successful as with his station.

S: Once he set foot in Anegada, the farthest he would travel was to Tortola.

T: Remarkable bio. And kudos to you, Shahrazad. You wrapped up the story of Sergio and RST within the allotted time. You are very good, mademoiselle.

S: Thank you. They drill that into your head in communication school. To our and Sergio’s listeners, a heartfelt thank you for joining Teriaki and me here at Radio Sistema Tropical in Sergio’s lovely Anegada. Cardinal Points will return next week at its regularly scheduled times on shortwave and at all times online. I am Shahrazad Boyko signing off in the Caribbean and wishing you a pleasant morning, afternoon, evening, or night, wherever in the world you may happen to be.

This is Radio Sistema Tropical, the Antillean world broadcasting system.


Editorial Antares ※ Azeta-RST-CP-06-TS.pdf

The Chinese characters in the penultimate sentence on page 8 are not displayed in certain PDF document viewers. They stand for “Huānhū!”, an interjection translated as “Cheers!”. Our apologies. To see the missing characters, copy the two blank spaces in the sentence (which do contain the underlying China UTF-8 code) and paste them onto a document on a word processor that is compatible with Unicode-8 code. (The characters display correctly here on the web page.) Huānhū! —Editorial Antares

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Editorial Antares

Anegada Airline Service Update

As of this posting (4 July 2018), Anegada's Auguste George Airport (IATA Code: NGD) has twice-daily scheduled service to/from each of the following destinations: Beef Island (Tortola), Virgin Gorda, and St. Thomas, USVI. Service carrier is VI Airlink using Beech 1900C aircraft, which operates with a crew of two, seats 19 passengers, has a pressurized and air-conditioned cabin, and is powered by twin turboprop engines. A very fine and comfortable regional airliner. See the VI Airlink fleet here. A larger photo of the airliner is found here.

Quick facts about Anegada - The Drowned Island


Image credits:

The three images: Photo of Anegada, taken from the International Space Station; Photo of Anegada, taken from an airplane; and Photo-Map of the Virgin Islands, as seen from
the International Space Station; are used with permission of Walker Mangum, creator of these fine works. Visit his website for many other wonderful things: www.BVIPirate.com. Many thanks, Walker.

NOAA GOES-Floater Rainbow Infra-Red animation for Hurricane Irma, 6 September 2017 14:15-21:15 UTC, as it passes over Virgin Gorda. Anegada just barely escaped the eye of the storm. Public domain.

Archivo General Histórico del Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores de Chile
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Chile license.



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