STALAG COMIS BLOG - PART 1

The following is part 1 of a web diary that will chronicle my 14 days of solitary confinement at the Comis Hotel in the Isle of Man (“IOM”) from the 29th April (SC1) until the 13th of May (SC 14).

As a prelude, please be aware that The IOM government, (in its infinite wisdom), locked-down the island from 27th March 2020, because of “infection” fears caused by the COVID-19 virus, and gave it’s overseas residents only two days’ notice to return, as the lockdown announcement was made on the 25th March. IOM residents in the UK and Ireland were left scrambling for the last planes and ferries but those who were further afield had no chance to make it, as the IOM became the only nation in the world to close its borders to its own residents.

This apparently hasty decision left approximately 400 IOM residents stranded abroad and so the IOM Government decided to institute a repatriation program, for any returning residents (“RRs”), who could make it to the UK at their own expense. From 15th April, the IOM Government would run one repatriation ferry a week, from the Port of Heysham (north of Blackpool), for up to 30 RRs per sailing. I am not sure why they picked Heysham as the IOM’s own Steampacket service also usually sails to Liverpool, Dublin and Belfast but the IOM Government was unmoved by suggestions that they also offer ferry services from those more populous other ports.

It was also decided that every batch of RRs, on a repatriation ferry, would also be quarantined for 14 days at the Comis Hotel, which was quickly converted into a form of prison and almost as rapidly earned the nickname “Stalag Comis” due to the fact that “inmates”, who have no accompanying family, were going to endure 23 hours a day of solitary confinement for the entirety of their enforced stay. (It should be noted that even murderers, rapists and kidnappers do not endure solitary confinement in Western world prisons unless they have proven to be a danger to other prisoners). The IOM Government appears not to be concerned about the long-term mental health issues that this kind of incarceration could cause to RRs, who are mostly law-abiding and tax-paying adults of good standing.

It was also a somewhat weird paradox that island residents, who have COVID-19 symptoms, are permitted to self-isolate at home but RRs, who have no symptoms, are required to go into quarantine for the same 14 day period. (An RR, who has COVID-19 symptoms, is not permitted to board a repatriation ferry).

To add insult to injury, the government also decided to charge each RR inmate ￡875 for the ferry and the 2 weeks room and board at Stalag Comis. Further costs will be endured, if inmates want any kind of libation with their very institutional type meals, which are currently being served on paper plates, and we are being advised, by other inmates, that the current rates are ￡2.50 for a soft-drink, ￡4.00 for a bottle of beer and ￡20.00 for a bottle of inferior quality vino.

As for yours truly, I was at my Florida house, when the island went into lockdown, with no chance to return, as my return British Airways flights were canceled, partly because London City closed for passenger flights even before the IOM also closed. (My original flight had been from Miami to Heathrow with a connecting flight from London City to Ronaldsway in the IOM). I endured a number of other cancellations before I was finally able to get on an American Airlines overnight flight to Heathrow from Miami, on the 3rd of April, with connecting flight to Belfast on the 4th of April.

I thought Belfast would be ideal, as it is one of the nearer ports to the IOM, and my wife has a house in Glengormley, which means that I could live rent-free until I was permitted to return to the island. However, that was before the IOM announced details of its repatriation program and those details revealed that Belfast was actually not that ideal, as I soon realized that I would have to get a ferry to Liverpool and then somehow make my way to Heysham to board one of the repatriation ferries. This would make for a very long journey indeed as the ferry to Liverpool takes 8 hours alone.

Despite pleading special circumstances, I was not granted permission to board the repatriation ferries on 15th of April and 22nd April, although the first instance was not too disheartening, as 15th April was my birthday and booking into Stalag Comis would not have been a treat! Nevertheless, it was third-time lucky as I was granted permission to board the 29th April ferry. So, this diary commences from the date of that notice.

By way of personal background, I am a 61 years-old international wealth planner, who commenced a trust business career on the IOM, in January 1988, and bought a house in Port St Mary (PSM) in April 1991. I left the IOM, in July 1991, to go to the Caribbean but kept the house, as I was only on a 3-year contract. So, it came to pass that I did come back to live in PSM, eventually, but it was 23 years later and I resided in many other countries during that oft-extended period. In fact, my claim to fame is that I believe I am the only financial services professional who has held senior-level positions with trust business companies in 16 jurisdictions. I met my wife, Elaine, in May of 1988, when she was a senior receptionist at the Sefton Hotel in Douglas, IOM. We didn’t get married until August 1999, as we were often living in different countries and now living apart again as she has a nice house, in Northern Ireland, which is near to her family and friends.

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SC-6 – 22nd April: I have received an email notice, from the IOM Government, that they are granting me an exemption certificate to return to the island on 29th April. It’s something of a relief to be getting “home” but I am not looking forward to the 14 days of solitary confinement and also “pissed” at how much it is going to cost me. As a self-employed person, I don’t enjoy a regular salary and my life is very much “feast and famine”. Although I have work coming in, it's much less than I enjoyed this time last year. I suspect that’s because of COVID-19 but I am just going to be thankful that I have enough money in the bank to survive without income for at least a year!

SC-5 – 23rd April: I call the repatriation hotline, to confirm my reservation, and I am then offered the option of making my own way to Heysham or booking into a hotel in Manchester called the Indigo, on the 28th April, as RRs at the Indigo will be bused to the Heysham ferry on the 29th. The cost of the hotel will be an additional ￡75 for dinner, bed and breakfast. I tell the lady, whom I think is called Jackie, that I will think about it and call her back on Friday.

SC-4- 24th April: I do think about it and decide the Indigo hotel is the safest option, as I won’t be left behind, in case I endure unexpected delays on my solitary journey to Heysham. So, I call “Jackie” back and confirm both reservations. “Jackie” then surprises me by asking me for full payment of ￡950 up-front. I am a bit non-plussed as I had read, on the internet, that some RRs were being offered “payment in installment” plans. Although not in my case it seems! I decide not to argue and whip out my long-suffering debit card to furnish “Jackie” with the relevant payment details. I had been thinking that two-weeks of institution food and solitary confinement might cause me to lose weight. It seems, for now, that the only thing feeling lighter is my wallet!

SC-3 – 25th April: There is a Facebook (“FB”) page for RRs, which is called “Manx residents stuck in UK or abroad due to COVID-19” and I am been eagerly scanning it for repatriation news and incarceration tips. From one of the inmates, I have discovered that the Stalag food is lukewarm and unpalatable, there is a limited selection of TV channels, the Wifi is wonky, the heating is not the best and even the hot water is intermittent. If this is truly the case, then it’s a poor statement for what is supposed to be one of the IOM’s better hotels. (No wonder we barely have a tourism sector anymore!). Or is this a case of just making the whole experience more unpleasant for RRs? I also discover, from the FB page, that a number of RRs are being “harassed” by their neighbours and even some former friends. (They only became “former” because of their recently acquired “attitude”). So much for solidarity in a time of crisis. It almost feels like some IOM residents, and the IOM government, want RRs to be severely “punished” for the crime of being “off-island” in a pandemic. Whatever the case, I am going to devote the rest of this day to buying “incarceration” goodies that will help me to stay sane while in solitary confinement. I also buy my Stena Line ticket from Belfast to Birkenhead, which costs a princely ￡16.

SC-2 - April 26th: Thanks to the IOM government, today marks a full 3 months since I left the “Rock” on 26th January never knowing it would be so hard and so expensive to get back. I also get “cracking with the packing” in the vain hope that at least one of my cases will be fully ready prior to departure. In the afternoon, we go round to Elaine’s uncle’s house for farewell drinks. Very enjoyable even if everyone was correctly observing social distances apart from Uncle Tony’s dog!

SC-1 – April 27th: Almost packed and I have 4 bottles of red wine, a bottle of brandy and a bottle of single-malt, in the luggage, which should get me through the first week (I hope)! I also hope that I have enough underwear to ensure that I am not washing my boxer-briefs in my Stalag Comis sink. Then it’s a case of charging phones and other devices for the trip. I also try and get as much work done, as possible, as I find it difficult to answer e-mails when traveling. The condemned man’s last pre-travel meal is gammon steak and eggs with chips and veggies. Elaine does the fries and veggies and I try to cope with the rest. A glass of Heineken helps to take the edge off and my nightcap is a “Peaky Blinders” Irish whiskey.

SC-0 – April 28th: First travel day! I am up at 6.30 am, as I know, from experience, that “last-minute issues” always take longer than you think. The first thing I realize is that I may have overdone it with the “incarceration” goodies as my case will not close. Repacking doesn’t solve that problem, which means that I have to “borrow” (aka steal) another case from Elaine, who is already complaining “whenever I give you something, I never seem to see it again”! That wastes some time, but we are still ready by 8.30 am, which is good as the taxi is due at 8.45 am. Except it doesn’t turn up and we have to book another one. Then the second taxi driver can’t seem to find the Stena Line ferry terminal. Not to worry, as I eventually arrive at the terminal 5 minutes before the check-in closes. Although it is still aggravating, when you consider that Elaine’s house is only supposed to be 10 minutes’ drive from the terminal.  No problems for the ferry ride, apart from the length of it, as it takes 8 hours from dock to dock, not including loading and unloading times. Having eaten breakfast early, I find that I am already getting hungry, pre-lunch, and I start nibbling on one of the roast-beef baps that Elaine has prepared. It’s still not even noon by the time that I have finished another bap and I have also gone through two packets of Tayto’s crisps! So much for losing weight other than in the wallet department! An announcement that the bar was closing, in 15 minutes, prompts me to head there and I order a draft Heineken, which will be my first draft beer since the Corona beer that I enjoyed at the Corona Beach Lounge at Miami airport, on 3rd of April, as the One World business lounges, which I normally frequent, were all closed because of Coronavirus social distancing. I take my time, supping the Heineken, as it is likely to be my last draft beer until the pubs reopen and god knows when that will happen! (It seems likely to be a long and dry summer but hopefully not a hot one, as that would be cruel and unusual punishment!). We eventually dock in Birkenhead, which brings back memories, as I did my first 4 “A” levels in that not-so-fair city, because my father moved our family to the Wirral, from Surrey, at a time when he was the managing director of a company with an office in Liverpool’s Liver building. Both my father and his father were born and brought up in Liverpool. Other than that, I don’t have any real connections to the city apart from being a 3rd generation “Blue” (a term that is used to describe a supporter of Everton F.C., which is the city’s 3rd best football team after Liverpool F.C. and Liverpool F.C.’s reserves). From Birkenhead, I go by train to Manchester Victoria after changing at Liverpool’s Lime Street station. My traveling companion, for the last leg of the journey, is an Irish lady called Yvonne Kirkham, who has also come from Northern Ireland, on the Stena ferry, in the hopes of making it back to the IOM. We have much in common as we both have Irish family connections; we each have 5 siblings and Yvonne celebrated her 61st birthday a week after mine! The first part of the journey has concluded and Yvonne and I check into Manchester’s Indigo hotel for the night. This is our first introduction to serious social distancing as we are informed that dinner will be delivered to each of our rooms but only by a knock on the door, as the servers are not permitted to go inside. There is a minimal choice menu and I now regret last night’s chips as the two protein choices are with chips! So, I eventually opt for vegetarian pasta, which proves to be better than expected. No drinks offered so I crack open my first bottle of a cheap merlot as pasta goes nicely with vino. I ration myself to a glass and a half and the nightcap is a straight-up Tennessee bourbon called "American Eagle". A pleasant end to a long and tiring day! I go to bed somewhat apprehensive about the next day and the days to follow, as I am not convinced that I have the mental cojones to easily “hack” two weeks of solitary!