By the Sea

In Chile's most gracious resort city the season was in full swing. Well-heeled Chileans and vacationists from foreign countries splashed in the green Pacific surf at Vina del Mar, took the summer sun on its white beaches 90 miles west of Santiago. Racing fans crowded the clubhouse and the rail at the Sporting Club to see Bromazo win the annual derby this week.

In the cream-colored Casino, two Syrian textile magnates risked a fortune at baccarat. Smartly dressed socialites played roulette with 100 peso* chips; their cooks were there, too--risking two peso chips on the wheel's turn. If the season ran true to form, at least one despondent loser would sooner or later plunge into the two-foot-deep canal outside the Casino, be ignominiously fished out of the mud unhurt.

Vacationists who admired sprightly Vina's well-paved streets and carefully manicured parks could thank both themselves and the Casino. Roughly half of the $3,000,000 gambling take goes to the municipality. Who is going to get the other half is the question that currently makes political mouths water.

Right now, an Argentine syndicate operates the Casino. But one of the two managers, Bernardo Vaistij (of Yugoslav descent), has just been hustled across the border by Chilean cops, who suddenly and conveniently discovered that he was wanted by police in Argentina. The other Argentine manager is expected to quit when the season ends in March. Whispered reason: a new administration has come to power in Chile; the country's biggest casino is too profitable a business for anyone but a deserving government supporter.

*The Chilean peso is worth 4-c-. A smart operator once bought a 30,000 peso stack, of chips (worth $1,200) at Vina, flew to Montevideo where a casino used identical chips, cashed them for 30,000 Uruguayan pesos--worth $15,000.

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