The heir to a foam-cup fortune is believed to own more land than anyone on the storied tax haven of Grand Cayman, just as rising seas threaten to engulf it.

One humid Tuesday in July, I summited the highest point on Grand Cayman, an eight-story dump known affectionately by the locals as Mount Trashmore. From the top of the foul mound — a collection of almost every piece of garbage discarded on the island since it went all-in on financial services in the 1960s — I imagined I could just make out the enshrouded beach estate of the secretive investor


"A Caymanian dream"


A plan for Mount Trashmore

Risks of a meltdown