By Chris Johnson

Noah’s Ark

Early this year before the coronavirus, the Lord came unto Noah, who was now living in Frank Sound in the Cayman Islands and said, “Once again, the earth has become wicked and over-populated, and I see the end of all flesh before me. Build another Ark and save two of every living thing along with a few good humans.”

He gave Noah the drawings, saying, “You have 6 months to build the Ark before I will start the unending rain for 40 days and 40 nights.”

At the beginnings of this month, the Lord looked down and saw Noah weeping in his yard- but there was no Ark.

“Noah!” He roared, “I’m about to start the rain! Where is the Ark?”

“Forgive me, Lord,” begged Noah, “but things have changed. I needed Planning Board approval and a Certificate of Occupancy. I’ve been arguing with the Frank Sound Fire Department about the need for a sprinkler system. My neighbours claim that I should have obtained planning permission for building the Ark in my yard because it is development of the site, even though in my view it is a temporary structure. We had to go to appeal to the Planning Tribunal for a decision, but Mr. Thompson was busy in his store and working with his Rotary Club.

“Then the Public Works Department and C.U.C. demanded a bond be posted for the future costs of moving power lines and other overhead obstructions to clear the passage for the Ark’s move to the North Sound. I told them that the sea would be coming to us, but they would hear nothing of it. Getting the wood was another problem. All the decent trees have Preservation Orders on them, and we live near the Mystic Trail in an area of Special Scientific Interest set up by the environmentalists in order to protect the Cayman Parrot. I tried to convince the environmentalists that I needed the wood to save the parrots – but no go!

“Then Lord, I tried to open a bank account to pay for the wood from Kirk Home Centre, but they wanted a driving licence to show who I is. Lord you know I only have my chariot and horses. I tried to pay in cash, but they said something about laundering which I did not understand.

“When I started gathering the turtles, iguanas, and dem other animals, the RCIP commenced an investigation. They insisted that I was confining wild animals against their will. They argued the accommodation was too restrictive, and it was cruel and inhumane to put so many animals in a confined space. Then the D.O.E. ruled that I couldn’t build the Ark until they’d conducted an environmental impact study on your proposed flood.

“I’m still trying to resolve a complaint with the Immigration Department on how many Caymanians I’m supposed to hire for my building team. They say I can’t use Jamaicans. They insist I have to hire only accredited workers with Ark-building experience. After the building of the Cimboco there were few Caymanians left with these skills and most of those are now with you oh Lord.

“To make matters worse, the Port Authority seized all my assets, claiming I’m trying to leave the country illegally with endangered species. Paradoxically, Lord they will not let the poor Jamaicans land on our fair shores.

“So, forgive me, Lord, but it would take at least 10 years for me to finish this Ark.”

Suddenly the skies cleared, the sun began to shine, the rainbow stretched across the North Sound, from West Bay to Rum Point and the waters parted in North Sound as Moses, not our Brac Moses, had ordered it to transpire.

Noah looked up in wonder and asked, “You mean you’re not going to destroy the Cayman Islands?”

“No,” said the Lord. “The Cayman Politicians beat me to it.”