Post by fastwalker on Oct 1, 2004 21:00:08 GMT -5
Yes.......
Source: Bart..
THE ICE STORM
De Beers used to dictate how the world diamond business was run. Then along came Canada - and
a fearless coal marketer named Bill Zimmerman
00:00 EDT Friday, October 25, 2002
On a pale grey August day this year, a small
party of diamond people drove out of Saskatoon,
north across the prairie, to take a look at the
largest diamond-exploration target in the world.
There were four of us-me; Brent Jellicoe, the chief
geologist for Kensington Resources Ltd.; David
Stone, the Victoria mining entrepreneur who is
Kensington's president; and a burly American
mineral economist and marketer named Bill
Zimmerman. It was Zimmerman, sitting there
benignly as we sped across the plain, who gave
the outing a special air of plausibility-of a diamond
hunt with real diamonds at the end. Zimmerman
invented the Canadian diamond business.
We were trading diamond stories-of thieves on the
Diamond Coast; of large stones that shattered on
the polishing wheel; of Nicky Oppenheimer, the
South African billionaire whose family name is
synonymous with diamonds and whose company,
De Beers, is the stream that waters the
nightmares of the diamond trade. Famously
secretive and autocratic, De Beers maintained a chokehold on the world diamond business for a
century, and its writ was law.
Because he sits, as it were, at the head of their government, diamond people have always gossiped
about Nicky Oppenheimer. Often it comes down to nothing more than that he is the son and grandson
of rapacious, brilliant men, that he keeps a private cricket team, and that he flies a helicopter to work.
But Oppenheimer can behave like a mogul when he wants to. In 2001, frustrated by the market's lack of
appetite for De Beers stock, he delisted the $19-billion (U.S.) company and took it private, snapping the
curtains shut forever on that doubtful window into De Beers's affairs-its annual report.
During our drive north, the topic of De Beers and its penchant for secrecy came up because the
Johannesburg company is Kensington's joint-venture partner on the diamond target we were headed for.
Kensington was bitter about De Beers's management of the project. One deposit alone on the joint
venture's property contains a billion tonnes of diamond-bearing material. If the body turns out to be
mine-grade-a big "if," but an enticing one-the deposit could support a mine for more than 50 years.
Mind you, promising possibilities blossom everywhere on the Canadian diamond scene. More than 500
diamond targets have been identified since the first discovery in the Northwest Territories more than a
decade ago, and the emergence of Canada as a world diamond power is no longer in doubt. It was
Zimmerman, more than anyone else, who brought this about, and he did it by pulling off a feat that
many observers said was impossible-breaking the hold of the Oppenheimer cartel.
Zimmerman looks more like a high-school football coach than a high-stakes player. He moves his big
frame slowly and speaks in a laconic voice, probably the way he spoke when he flew an A-4 Skyhawk
fighter-bomber from the deck of the USS Coral Sea during the Vietnam War. He likes to fish with his
friends. He is the kind of man who drives his mother home when she comes for a visit-even though she
lives in Pennsylvania, 2,500 kilometres away from Zimmerman's home in the Rocky Mountains of
Colorado. There is a feeling about him that nothing would ruffle his calm. This is a good quality for a
man who suddenly found himself facing off with De Beers, the Goliath of the diamond world.
When The Broken Hill Proprietary Ltd. (BHP), the Australian mining titan, struck diamonds northeast of
Yellowknife in 1991-a site now home to the Ekati mine-the chief concern of the top executives in
Melbourne, once they established the viability of the project, was what they would do with the
diamonds. Somewhere down the road, the Australians would have to confront De Beers. Could they? It
was just as this question was being asked that Zimmerman appeared.
"I'd been marketing coal for BHP out of Indonesia for five years," Zimmerman says, "and I was sick of it.
I asked them to find me something else, and they said, 'Well, we've got this diamond thing in Canada.
We don't know anything about diamonds. See what you can find out.' So I took it on. I figured, what the
hell, it's just another kind of carbon. How hard can it be?"
more....
Source: Bart..
THE ICE STORM
De Beers used to dictate how the world diamond business was run. Then along came Canada - and
a fearless coal marketer named Bill Zimmerman
00:00 EDT Friday, October 25, 2002
On a pale grey August day this year, a small
party of diamond people drove out of Saskatoon,
north across the prairie, to take a look at the
largest diamond-exploration target in the world.
There were four of us-me; Brent Jellicoe, the chief
geologist for Kensington Resources Ltd.; David
Stone, the Victoria mining entrepreneur who is
Kensington's president; and a burly American
mineral economist and marketer named Bill
Zimmerman. It was Zimmerman, sitting there
benignly as we sped across the plain, who gave
the outing a special air of plausibility-of a diamond
hunt with real diamonds at the end. Zimmerman
invented the Canadian diamond business.
We were trading diamond stories-of thieves on the
Diamond Coast; of large stones that shattered on
the polishing wheel; of Nicky Oppenheimer, the
South African billionaire whose family name is
synonymous with diamonds and whose company,
De Beers, is the stream that waters the
nightmares of the diamond trade. Famously
secretive and autocratic, De Beers maintained a chokehold on the world diamond business for a
century, and its writ was law.
Because he sits, as it were, at the head of their government, diamond people have always gossiped
about Nicky Oppenheimer. Often it comes down to nothing more than that he is the son and grandson
of rapacious, brilliant men, that he keeps a private cricket team, and that he flies a helicopter to work.
But Oppenheimer can behave like a mogul when he wants to. In 2001, frustrated by the market's lack of
appetite for De Beers stock, he delisted the $19-billion (U.S.) company and took it private, snapping the
curtains shut forever on that doubtful window into De Beers's affairs-its annual report.
During our drive north, the topic of De Beers and its penchant for secrecy came up because the
Johannesburg company is Kensington's joint-venture partner on the diamond target we were headed for.
Kensington was bitter about De Beers's management of the project. One deposit alone on the joint
venture's property contains a billion tonnes of diamond-bearing material. If the body turns out to be
mine-grade-a big "if," but an enticing one-the deposit could support a mine for more than 50 years.
Mind you, promising possibilities blossom everywhere on the Canadian diamond scene. More than 500
diamond targets have been identified since the first discovery in the Northwest Territories more than a
decade ago, and the emergence of Canada as a world diamond power is no longer in doubt. It was
Zimmerman, more than anyone else, who brought this about, and he did it by pulling off a feat that
many observers said was impossible-breaking the hold of the Oppenheimer cartel.
Zimmerman looks more like a high-school football coach than a high-stakes player. He moves his big
frame slowly and speaks in a laconic voice, probably the way he spoke when he flew an A-4 Skyhawk
fighter-bomber from the deck of the USS Coral Sea during the Vietnam War. He likes to fish with his
friends. He is the kind of man who drives his mother home when she comes for a visit-even though she
lives in Pennsylvania, 2,500 kilometres away from Zimmerman's home in the Rocky Mountains of
Colorado. There is a feeling about him that nothing would ruffle his calm. This is a good quality for a
man who suddenly found himself facing off with De Beers, the Goliath of the diamond world.
When The Broken Hill Proprietary Ltd. (BHP), the Australian mining titan, struck diamonds northeast of
Yellowknife in 1991-a site now home to the Ekati mine-the chief concern of the top executives in
Melbourne, once they established the viability of the project, was what they would do with the
diamonds. Somewhere down the road, the Australians would have to confront De Beers. Could they? It
was just as this question was being asked that Zimmerman appeared.
"I'd been marketing coal for BHP out of Indonesia for five years," Zimmerman says, "and I was sick of it.
I asked them to find me something else, and they said, 'Well, we've got this diamond thing in Canada.
We don't know anything about diamonds. See what you can find out.' So I took it on. I figured, what the
hell, it's just another kind of carbon. How hard can it be?"
more....