Page 247 - harryDEC12_clean.iba

Laboriously we put together a „placement slip“ and read the conditions that differed in each and every aspect, from what was common in the English Insurance Market, particularly so with regard to semantics.
"Well the Aussies are different, more simple in a way"
Was John's commentary.
"Maybe it is us, who are screwed up in our minds - always refining things, which makes life more complicated"
I answered.
The text of the Australian Insurance conditions used a strange form of direct speech: "We," that meant the insurers, „you“, that meant the insured client. There was a sort of dialogue between insurers and clients: „If YOU do that, than WE will do the other“ - laymen‘s terms, that we were not used to in the pursuit of our „serious“ profession - utterly amateurish, we concluded. There was not even a reference at all to the laws behind that compendium of words, nor to the bible of Marine Insurance: The Marine Insurance Act of 1907 - yes, we worked with such old codes and still do today as Marine Insurance is a serious profession, that does not follow trendy judicial jargon. Like in all strides of life some things never changed in the application of insurance rules - such as honesty and dishonesty, negligence and intent. But Jefferson‘s conditions were borne in a vacuum and he wanted unlimited claims authority, a leap of faith that really was granted only to established and proven business connections. I was not difficult to see one stuffing his pockets, if driven by dishonest intentions. But then we were always cynical about anyone. However, this was going to be a tricky trapeze act that much was clear to us. It was an exercise in makes believe - a dance on the wire between the Twin Towers of two worlds - just like Philippe Petit did in 1974.
oOo
The next day at 10:30 a.m.
Fred and we set off for Lloyd’s. We had in our sights John Hughes - a leading insurer, a specialist in insuring of yachts. A youthful man with a rosy face, a crude contrast to the appearance of „Crocodile Dundee“.
Fred entered the room nonchalantly as though he was at home there and followed us with gangling strides, under his arm a stack of magazines and brochures in a leather envelope - „an Australian salesman on a mission" - only a leather Akubra hat was missing. Arriving at John Hughes‘ box he went without hesitation up to him and put out his massive hand in greeting. He was a good head taller than John.
"I’m Fred Jefferson from Melbourne. Nice to meet you, sir.“
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