Death of a Rolex theft victim

Gold Rolex

We received another long email last Friday from a thief we know in Naples, Italy. Between his flowery prose on the trials and tribulation of the pickpocket profession, and his disclosures of the career aspirations of his young adult children, he informed us of the news that is now everywhere:

Some days ago two thugs tried to snatch the gold Rolex of an American tourist who was off a cruise ship. He died this morning at the hospital. I’m so sorry about this thing.

I’m not sure if our pickpocket friend ever has or would steal a Rolex. As far as we know, he specializes in wallets taken from pockets. Clearly, he does not see himself as a “thug;” no—they are a completely different category of thief.

The American cruise ship passenger died on May 27, never having recovered from injuries sustained when the two hoodlums tried to steal his Rolex on May 18. He’d been strolling with his wife, not far from his ship, and not long on the ground.

The thugs were scippatori, the scooter-riding bandits I’ve written much about. In fact, it was our long-ago surprise encounter with these goon-thieves that began our thiefhunting career.

How to steal a Rolex

A Rolex thief in Naples demonstrated how he jumps off his Vespa scooter and twists off the watch.

Sad but inevitable, considering the frequency of these crimes. I’m sad not only for the 66-year-old victim, Oscar Antonio Mendoza, 66, of Puerto Rico, and his family, but also sad for Naples. The city has so much to offer visitors, not least the warmth and liveliness of its populace. Its reputation as crime-infested already has the tourism industry recommending nearby towns instead of Naples.

Unlike Barcelona, where a huge crime wave largely targeting tourists is perpetrated almost exclusively by foreigners from a few specific regions, in Naples, the perpetrators are local mobsters. They are destroying their own city. (One could say that Barcelona also is destroying itself by allowing foreign robbers free reign.)

Our Napolitano pickpocket friend considers his style of robbery above the brute-force-thuggery that eventually killed the American tourist. While holding himself to certain standards, he simultaneously laments his line of work; an odd mixture of pride and shame. He is a religious man. His youngest son, he just told us, “aspires to be a priest—even a pope! It always amazes me that if he attains this vocation, can you imagine? Dad doing the borseggiatore and his son is an angel” Borseggiatore— that’s pickpocket. The irony doesn’t escape our poetic pickpocket friend.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

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10,000 shipping containers lost at sea each year

Cargo ship

Source: http://www.cargolaw.com/2006nightmare_apl_panama.html

10,000 shipping containers are lost at sea each year! From my naive perspective, I’m shocked by this number. Twice, I’ve sent an entire household from one continent to another by sea. To think of my container just…tumbling into the sea in a storm! Or worse, ordered jettisoned by the captain to ensure the safety of the ship.

Five to six million shipping containers are being transported at any given moment, and it’s estimated that one is lost about every hour. A goner. True, the percentage is low; but the number is high. Ten thousand containers and their cargo, every year, sunk to the bottom of the deep blue sea. Or presumably, the rough gray sea.

Containers dropped from cargo ships are never recovered and rarely reported. There are no legal repercussions for the losses; no accountability.

There are other repercussions though. Hazardous materials are leached into the ocean. Artificial habitats are created for aquatic life, strung like stepping stones along shipping routes, possibly giving species an unnatural ability to migrate across oceans. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-12718251

And these cargo containers may float for days or weeks before they sink to the ocean floor. Huge farting boxes the size of houses, invisible just below the surface of the sea, they create a deadly hazard for other ships and yachts. “Very, very dangerous,” a ship’s officer told me. “At night you cannot see them at all.”

While this subject matter doesn’t quite fit my usual categories of Travel or Theft, it interests me mainly in terms of loss and responsibility (and also freak accidents). And there seems to be a huge potential for fraud.

Apparently, expediency in loading cargo ships doesn’t allow for stacking containers logically. Therefore, heavy containers may very well ride on the top layer. On the other hand. I read somewhere that top layer positions go for cheap—or was that a joke?

In a global industry represented by straight-laced and corrupt nations and every banana republic in between, I’m not surprised that:

They overload container vessels on purpose, raising the center of gravity of the ship. If there is smooth sailing, you make millions extra a year. If you hit rough seas, you cut loose your entire top layer of containers, lower your COG, and still come out ahead in the grand scheme of it all.

http://slashdot.org/comments.pl?sid=2070698&cid=35729890

So, if a ship lists or rolls a container or two could go flying. Connecting pins might break or shear off, as they are designed to do at a list of a certain number of degrees. And if a ship is in danger its captain may choose to sacrifice a number of containers in the hope of saving the ship and its remaining cargo.

…essentially the shipping company is not liable for the ‘disposed [of]‘ containers, either. If the shipping company has enough losses on a vessel to declare a “General Average,” then the compensation for the losses (including vessel damage, if any) are assessed against the other *customers* with cargo on that vessel.

Basically, the vessel is carrying the cargo as a courtesy; any risk of loss belongs to the owners of the cargo(s) collectively, NOT to the carrier.
So as a forwarding agent, not only do you get the pleasure of telling someone that their container of goods has been lost, you get to tell them that…¨a) they still have to pay freight shipping costs, AND…¨b) they’re going to be legally liable for their ‘share’ of whatever the general average costs work out to be

http://slashdot.org/comments.pl?sid=2070698&cid=35731376

Other than keeping his average rate of loss low, there doesn’t seem to be much to motivate a captain to deliver his full complement of containers. Would it be an exaggeration to suggest that the odd seaman or two might be induced to “lose” a container now and then?

The potential for foul play intrigues me. I hear the whisper of a thumb gently rubbing two fingertips… The master of a ship turns his head away at the screech of metal scraping metal followed by a mighty splash. What might be in that locked steel box? Incriminating evidence? Treasure, bundled with a GPS transmitter, for later retrieval? Hazardous waste too costly to dispose of properly? A secret marine biology laboratory in which creepy experiments will be activated by contact with water, to be carried out in the cold, dark, compressed environment of the sea floor? Bodies?

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

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Ghost in the Wires

Ghost in the Wires cover

I thought Kevin Mitnick was a friend of mine—but that was before I read his forthcoming book, Ghost in the Wires. Kevin’s the consummate liar, it seems. He’ll say anything to get what he wants, going to extreme efforts to research, then set up support for elaborate cons. He’ll claim to be a cop, a utility employee, or your colleague from a remote office, if it serves his purpose. A faceless voice on the telephone, he’ll sweet-talk one minute, and command with authority the next. At least he used to do this, before spending five years in federal prison…

To become the boldfaced name in social engineering, Kevin honed a natural knack for people-reading from childhood. He was a telephone Zelig who rarely needed to get out of his sweats. He always found a plausible pretext for his capers and pursued them with outrageous chutzpah. Rarely would he fail to obtain the information he sought.

Can one retire a talent like that? I doubt it, but as I can’t think of what use Bob and I are to Kevin, I prefer to think that we really are his friends.

Ghost in the Wires: My Adventures as the World’s Most Wanted Hacker is Kevin’s third book, to be published in August 2011. I love that title. The book chronicles how Kevin, from an early age, tinkered with communication devices: ham radios, telephones, cellphones, computers, and the software that runs them all. Although he was obsessively compelled to dig deeper and deeper into the gizmo-code, he never tried to make or steal money from his exploits. He did it out of his own curiosity, to learn more, and to challenge himself to do what seemed impossible.

Sometimes, in his relentless pursuit of knowledge, he simply had to break into a company’s computer to get the software, the code, or the user names and passwords that he needed. In an electronic sense, that’s breaking and entering. And when he copied that proprietary information for his own use, well, that’s stealing.

Once he’d gained access to his target computer, he’d usually fiddle with its inner settings just enough to plant a “backdoor,” an easy way in for his next visit. He might read his target’s emails and even copy them, but he never destroyed the files.

Imagine an intruder who breaks into your house, sneaks around and looks into your secret hiding places, rifles your files, and picks through your drawers. Satisfied, he then backs out quietly leaving everything just as it was, sweeps up his footprints and, oh yeah—copies your house key on the way out.

Bambi Vincent, Kevin Mitnick, Bob Arno

I’ve heard Kevin call himself a “non-profit hacker.” Sure, he got himself free phone calls, but throughout his hacking career, he was always gainfully employed. With the information he had at his fingertips, he could easily have enjoyed a life of leisure from credit card fraud. He could have sold proprietary source code in the hackers’ underworld. But no; Kevin lacks a vital attribute. He has nerves of steel and gigantic balls, but he does not possess a criminal core. He was simply educating himself.

That is, until he got himself in trouble for snooping. Then he needed that information to protect himself, so he could make untraceable phone calls, so he could listen in to others. As the Feds closed in on him, he needed to know how much they knew about him, too.

Many times while reading Ghost in the Wires I wanted to smack Kevin. I wanted to shake him and say “you just got out of juvenile detention for doing just this—why are you doing it again?” He makes it clear that his hacking was his idea of fun and entertainment, to see if he could get to the next level. Like an addicted gamer.

It turns out, after all, that Kevin was busy educating himself. From “the world’s most wanted hacker” he has become one of the most wanted security experts in the world. He’s now considered the ultimate social engineer and an “ethical hacker,” one who’s challenge is to break into his clients’ systems, whether electronically or by social engineering. In other words, as Mitnick Security, he’s now paid to do what he loves, and he no longer has to look over his shoulder.

Social engineers are an ominous bugbear to security. A company (or you!) can have the tightest security system in place, but humans are its weakest link. For a hacker like Kevin, it’s easier to simply ask for the key to the front door than to steal it. He simply has to ask in the right way. Because social engineers are basically skillful actors playing a role, they’re an invisible threat and a daunting challenge for businesses.

I’m no hacker, that’s for sure, nor even a programmer. Yet, I found it fascinating to read exactly how Kevin finagled himself into systems and tweaked them to his advantage. Kevin wanted to include more of the nitty-gritty hackery in the book, but his co-author, Bill Simon, saved us readers from too much esoterica. I think they struck an excellent balance. I never felt bogged down by the technical bits.

In fact, some might worry that Ghost is a hackery cookbook, complete with lessons in how to get others to spill their secrets. I worried about this aspect with my own book, Travel Advisory: How to Avoid Thefts, Cons, and Street Scams.

Does an exhaustive explanation of theft techniques actually teach the thieves? Kevin and I obviously came to the same conclusion: no, there’s more to gain by putting all the details out there, the better to protect yourself.

I feel a little sorry for all the good people whose trust Kevin exploited. They bought into his ruses in a good-faith effort to be helpful. No doubt that he used them, and probably got many of them into big trouble. Well, in my line of work too, thiefhunting and training the public to avoid theft, a kernel of cynicism is not a bad seed to plant. Kevin’s patsies will think twice before giving out sensitive information.

Ghost is 400+ pages of tension, broken only by Kevin’s sentimental musings about his mother and grandmother, who are constant supportive figures in his life, and the heartbreaking side-story of his brother. It’s fast reading—a tribute to the clear writing and exciting story.

Yeah, yeah, you think I’m all positive because Kevin’s my friend. He gave me an unedited galley copy of the book (littered with typos), but didn’t ask me to write about it. If I hadn’t liked it, I wouldn’t have written a word.

Or maybe I would have. After all, Kevin might not be a real friend of mine…

© Copyright 2008-2009 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

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Unlimited free internet

Honolulu Apple Store

Honolulu Apple Store 2

Honolulu Apple Store 3

Honolulu Apple Store 4

Visiting the Honolulu Apple Store, Bob and I were instantly struck by the clientele. They weren’t shopping at all! They were a bunch of old folks using the store’s computers to check their email. Yahoo, AOL, and Facebook pages up everywhere. Homesick vacationers deep in concentration, smiling, in their own little worlds far from Hawaii.

I don’t know if all Apple Stores are so accommodating, or if credit goes to the laid-back Hawaiians. The staff were not bothered in the least.

Maybe the company would rather have people taking advantage of unlimited free internet than have an empty store.

With his backpack at his feet, one man carried on a loud conversation on an iPhone. If it hadn’t been tethered to the table, he might have wandered out with it. His call continued the entire half-hour we were in the store.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

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Japanese kaiseki dinner

Japanese kaiseki dinner

You are lucky indeed if you ever get the opportunity to experience a kaiseki meal, especially one in a ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn. You’ll enjoy a long, relaxed procession of delicacies in small portions, exquisitely presented, and usually specific to the season.

I had the incredible good fortune to indulge in a week of kaiseki lunches and dinners in Japan. One meal featured tofu in many forms. One featured tempura. Another was Buddhist vegetarian. The most breathtaking were those served at Yagyuno Sho Ryokan in Shuzenji, on Japan’s Izu peninsula.

I’m in awe of Takashi Shibayama, Yagyuno Sho’s chef, who showcased an endless variety of glorious creations in perfect balance, meal after meal. As you’ll see in the following photos, his magnificent presentations are the synergetic result of his ravishing edible works of art complemented by precious serving pieces, and owe a nod to whimsy.

These photos are from a single kaiseki dinner titled “A Picnic Under the Cherry Blossoms.” A menu was provided in Japanese calligraphy, along with an attempted English translation.

Sake in iron pot

The meal begins with a treasured sake poured from iron pots into flat red lacquer bowls. Just a sip, it’s a fruity and fervent taste bud wakeup call, accompanied by a tiny red lantern glowing with a short-lived candle. In a deeply-textured covered bowl, a surprise awaits.

Foie gras Japanese style

Surprise indeed! Who would expect haute cuisine—and foie gras, no less? It’s a silky paté “with white radish agar (moon) and salty meringue (cloud),” a garnish of gold foil and cherry blossom petals—an edible haiku in beige. How about…

Fat goose flies in spring
Cherry blooms, moon in cloud, his
Liver is dinner

Kaiseki understatement: "Simple Meal"

A wooden tray is presented. Paradoxically called “Simple Meal,” it is anything but. In the gorgeous little covered bowl: “bamboo shoot, udo, butterbur dressed with young Japanese pepper and moso.” In my excitement, I forget to take a picture of the opened bowl. The central plate of gold-leaf floats on a gold-leaf-spattered strip of handmade paper. It holds “sushi balls, picnic dumpling, and dried wheat.” On the black ceramic dish, sesame seed tofu with caviar. In the beige: “rape blossoms with dried wheat gluten.”

Gluten makes frequent appearances. Itself bland with a pleasant, chewy texture, it’s an excellent sponge and carrier of flavors.

Cold sake

Our cold sake arrives in crystal glass decanters deep in red lacquer bowls of ice and flowers. You must not pour your own sake—but look after your neighbors, and make sure their cups are full. I can’t help noticing the uniformity of the ice—crushed to perfection.

Small soup in big bowl

A small “clear soup with red sea bream dumpling” is in a large lacquer bowl, black with gold bamboo on the outside, dark red on the inside. We are reminded that we are not expected to like or consume everything, but I can’t help myself. I do and I do. Continue reading

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Hotel oddity #17

Lit toilet

I have to say, there’s something rather cozy about a warm toilet seat. Definitely got used to that in Japan. I came to expect the full panel of services, too, from waterfall or babbling brook sound effects to various water-jet options. I was a little taken aback the first time I entered and the lid saluted me, opening on its own. And I was just plain amused by a toilet with a lit bowl. Maybe even a little horrified.

Oh, and yes. They flush and close by themselves, too. Any more questions?

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

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Theft in Lisbon

Lisbon Starbucks

Starbucks has a bad rap when it comes to theft. Customers focus on their drinks, their conversations, their open computers, and thieves know it. A busy coffee shop is a mess of people coming and going, pushing between crowded tables, standing waiting, looking for seats, looking for friends, looking for loose objects…

Bob and I were in Lisbon’s bustling Starbucks, waiting for its broken internet to come back on (it never did). One lucky customer had found a nice corner with a power outlet and had dragged a chair over. He was opening his laptop when… his phone disappeared.

His reaction caught our attention, but we were dismayed that the perp hadn’t. We consider it our business to spot thieves before they strike. This time, we failed. We never saw him.

Lisbon building

The victim said he’d set his phone down only a minute ago. Sitting beside the milk and sugar station, he hadn’t worried about the constant human traffic.

Bob looked up and saw a surveillance camera. “Get them to show you the video,” he urged the victim. But Starbucks’ manager refused to access the video unless the victim filed a police report. The victim threw up his hands in frustration. He didn’t want to spend his short time in Lisbon dealing with police and looking at surveillance tapes. He walked out.

“It’s only getting worse,” a security guard told us. He was positioned just outside the old elevator tower. “We see them every day;” he was referring to the city’s pickpockets. They don’t necessarily ride the elevator. It’s just a short walk up the hill to the lift’s viewpoint, and that’s where they wait for their prey.

Lisbon wreck

That was corroborated by the security guard who keeps watch on the elevator tower. She seemed fascinated by their chosen profession, picking up on many details that others in the security business miss. All she can do when she sees pickpockets though, she said, is warn the visitors and shoo the thieves away.

It’s been two years since our last visit to Lisbon. Tram lines 15 and 28 are as crowded and infested as they were then. More buildings are boarded up and the city looks worse than ever.

Lisbon looks terribly dilapidated, its glory days over, deteriorating as we watch. Its structures are still grand, but they’re dressed like homeless derelicts, with the same empty-eyed glower, all dignity and self-respect burned off by neglect.

To quote myself.

On the other hand, the sidewalks are still spectacular.

© Copyright 2008-2011 Bambi Vincent. All rights reserved.

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