by Gordon Gray
After two further visits that afternoon to other smaller yards in Pusan, we spent the night in the Commodore Hotel. Here, on one of my later visits, I had the delight of a local visitor. Korean ladies of the night used to watch people going up in the lifts and then, after a while, follow them up and knock on the door. When you opened the door, you were greeted by a sweet smile and a demure voice in practised English saying, “Hello, sir, you want company?” A firm but polite “No, thank you” was all that was needed and the lady would disappear. Over the next few years, the hotel security was stepped up and this charming, but naughty and very high risk, offer of company became a thing of the past.
On Thursday morning, we visited two more yards in Pusan where we were supplying radars for naval patrol boats. Again, lunch was nonexistent and by mid afternoon we were back ‘on the Pony’. This time we were heading for the biggest yard in Korea, possibly the world: Hyundai. Hyundai’s yard is at Ulsan, some two to three hours’ drive to the east. We arrived at their guesthouse called the Diamond Hotel. It was, again, fairly new, but this one actually looked like a proper hotel. They even had a coffee shop and a western menu displayed in the lobby. I whetted my appetite by reading it while we waited to check in. They had omelettes, burgers, even steak.
After a short rest, KY called me in my room. “We should eat now. Please meet me in lobby.”
Great, I thought, as I was starving too.
As I came down the stairs, KY was already heading out of the door. I caught up with him. “Where are we going?” I asked, already dreading the answer.
“A little restaurant I know. Not far,” he said and headed off.
After three days of no food or sitting on the floor with Korean rice or bulgogi bar BQ style food, I had just spent a couple of hours in my room planning a steak and chips and sitting up at a normal table. Now, I was confronted with more Korean food with, of course, more kimchi. I shrugged, ‘If you can’t take a joke…’ KY led me through some alleys and narrow lanes near the shipyard and we entered a small low-fronted stone building, which was a local restaurant he had clearly visited many times. We settled into a small room and I tried to jam my long legs under the table as best I could. At least it was warm with underfloor heating and they had beer. The Bulgogi was actually quite good but my knees were not! I was not really in the mood for fiddling about with chopsticks and eating radish salad and kimchi. However, after a glass or two of OB beer, I began to relax and feel better.
Our meeting in Hyundai the next day did not go well. The first person we were due to see, the purchasing manager, was in a meeting so we went in search of the next person on our list. He was in the special ships division in another part of the yard. He was a serious but courteous man and we spent a long time with him discussing naval radars. He was actually quite reasonable and keen to learn about the new radars that Decca were bringing out. We then went back to find Mr Park, the purchasing manager, and after a long wait, he appeared.
He wore the Hyundai uniform, was young, probably in his early thirties, tall and glared at us through thick glasses. He said he had some problems with our radars and opened his thick file. We settled down while he read the notes in the file and then went through a list of complaints with KY in Korean. KY explained, “Hyundai are very unhappy as some telexes had not been answered and Mr Park says that telexes that have been answered, he does not understand or cannot read. His main complaint is about the installation kits that had been supplied with the radars. He says that the wrong bolts had been sent and that the instructions for installing the scanner unit are not clear and the packing note is different from the kit.”
“Is that it KY?”
We then sat and went through with him the approved installation diagrams in the manual, but he still claimed that these were insufficient. As far as the wrong bolts were concerned, I apologised for the inconvenience, but it was clear that someone at our end had typed a five on the packing note instead of a four. The four bolts fitted the four holes on the radar scanner base. This was not good enough for Hyundai.
“Decca say there are five; bolts where is fifth bolt? You must supply one more bolt,” he raged. He had the right bolts and the right quantity, but one clerical error allowed him to go on a thirty-minute tirade about our slack standards.
“We apologise for the typing mistake, but if you feel so strongly, why did you not contact our agent here in Korea or our service dept in the UK?” I asked.
“I do not have time for that. You must get it right; these errors will make the ship late and it will be your responsibility.”
I refused to accept any responsibility for that or for any delay in completing the ship.
“Please wait, I need to discuss with my director” and he left the room.
The purchasing manager returned and began again, but was just repeating his earlier complaints. After a frosty half hour, we were told to wait. I told KY that there was no more we could do, we had answered all their questions and that we were leaving.
KY was upset. “You cannot do that,” he said.
“I can,” I said. “Anyway, we have a train to catch. Hyundai have not contacted either your office as our local agent, nor our service HQ about this – and just because we have come all this way, they think they can throw ship delays at our door. No way.”
I was cross. Afterwards I recognised that I was wrong to get cross and I had lost face to the Koreans, but this was my first experience of Korean yards and I was a bit raw. Over the next few years in Korea, I learned to smile when I really wanted to scream. This always alarmed the Koreans as you were not meant to smile in meetings. I learnt quickly that in Korea there is no place in the workplace for friendly discussion or general conversation, let alone banter, jokes and a smile. The rule in the shipyards seemed to be that: “Work is war and the supplier is the enemy; treat him like an enemy and then make everything his fault.”
We collected our passports from the main gate and looked for a taxi. We headed for the station but KY realised that we had already missed our fast train back to Seoul. The next Seoul train was a slow, stopping one. At Ulsan station, we relaxed and spent a pleasant couple of hours sitting in the warm sunshine sipping tea and waiting for the train to arrive. Hence the mad panic at Seoul some hours later at Seoul station when KY bundled me into the ladies’ taxi.
The return of Eric (The Chairman’s Personal Consultant)
Just before one trip, Eric Tyler, who I had met on Hong Kong trips, entered our office. “The Chairman wants me to come to Korea with you,” he announced.
Inwardly, I groaned. “Oh good, that will be great Eric,” I managed to reply with a smile.
We arrived in Seoul and were due to have a meeting with KY Lee’s boss, Duncan, the managing director of the agency company. They had been Decca’s agent for many years and we had always found them to be efficient and communicative. They were a lot more communicative than most agents, in fact.
On the way to the office, Eric briefed me on his plan for the meeting. “Look, I think these people need shaking up. Now, your role is to be the nice guy and I will be the bad guy. Just go along with my role play, it will all be jolly good fun.”
I was bemused by this, but said, “Sure, fine, Eric, why not?”
We had settled in the managing director’s office. Duncan was a very pleasant, helpful chap from Selkirk in the Scottish borders and ran a smooth and efficient office from what I had seen. With a coffee in his hand, he was describing his company and his perceived responsibilities to his principals, including us, when all of a sudden, Eric launches into the poor guy.
“Duncan, this is all very interesting, but you have just not performed. How are you increasing our sales? You have failed to do this. You are not representing us properly; you have no proper contacts at high level. Who are your contacts in the Chaebols? Do you know the president of Daewoo?”
Duncan, a gentle Scot from the Borders was totally taken aback. “I have met him, but I don’t deal with him on a daily basis i
f that’s what you mean” and so it went on.
He turned to me for support, which I offered as best I could by emphasising the value of KY’s continued visits to the yards where our work was done.
Eric continued, “You should be operating at a much higher level if you want to keep our business. Racal Decca is going places and we must have the right people in places like Korea.”
The message was clear: “Do as I say or lose the agency.” I was as taken aback by the ferocity of Eric’s attack as Duncan clearly was. Finally things calmed down and as we left some time later, Duncan even invited us to his home for dinner on the following Saturday night. It became clear from Eric later that Racal wanted to target Korea for future major defence business and the chairman needed a top level agent with contacts high in the government and the National Ministry of Defence (NMD) to help set up a major Racal presence in Korea. Decca’s old agent, while excellent for what Decca needed in the commercial marine market, was not what Racal wanted. Hence the barrage from Eric, so he could report back that our agent was not up to the job. It appeared to me that I had not been briefed before in case I warned the agent.
The downside was that Eric was a workaholic, as many successful men are. Luckily, I have never suffered from this ailment. After a good dinner and a pleasant evening with Duncan and his wife in their home on the Saturday night, we got back to the hotel at about half past midnight. I was ready for bed, but Eric wanted to sit down then and there and debrief each other on what we thought of the evening and what had been said. All I thought was that I wanted to go to bed, but Eric wanted to go through the whole night in fine detail. I finally got to bed at about two thirty in the morning after agreeing to meet up again at eleven o’clock on the Sunday morning to discuss it all again.
I went to bed and fell sound asleep. In my dream, a phone was ringing somewhere. I came to and realised that it was my bedside phone. My first jet-lagged reaction was: “Oh hell, I am late, where should I be?” I picked it up and tried to work out what day it was and who would be calling me, but knew instantly it was Eric. Eric started without introduction or hello, “Now, about last night; what did you make of his comment about the Japanese competition?”
I looked at the clock. It was 7 a.m on Sunday. “Eric,” I said, “what is wrong? I thought we were meeting at eleven to discuss all this?”
“Oh, I will see you later then,” was all he said, and with a sigh and a ‘humph’ he rang off. I had probably just killed off any vague promotion chances I might have had.
Unknown to me, a Pusan-based company had contacted Racal head office directly and their details had been passed straight on to Eric. They wanted to represent Racal Decca for marine sales and servicing and they said that they represented other marine companies. Eric had not passed the information to me, nor had he asked the UK Embassy in Seoul what they knew about the company. Eric had agreed to go and visit them on a day trip from Seoul. Eric told me just a day or so before the trip, but as I had never heard of the company, I had not had a chance to check them out myself. I am sure I did remind Eric the night before to take his passport, but, unfortunately, he forgot it. In those days, as a foreigner, you had to have your passport with you to travel internally in Korea.
At the airport, we were asked for them by the security guard. He did not have his. He then tried to bluster his way through: “Look, this is only a domestic flight”; “It is in my hotel”; “I will show you tomorrow”; “I have some important meetings that I must attend.” I was waiting for the “Do you know who I am?” but even Eric could not use that one in Korea. The guard was totally unmoved. He called his superiors.
We were both then marched off to the airport police offices and for thirty minutes Eric was questioned as to who he was and why he was in Korea, who he worked for, where his passport was. Finally they seemed content, but certainly not happy, that his story checked out. They quizzed me too, but as I had my passport, a couple of phone calls cleared me of any suspicion or risk. I then had to vouch for Eric in writing and even the UK Embassy may have been called. Eventually, Eric was given a slip of paper with police stamps all over it and we were allowed to travel, but only if Eric swore that he would not leave my side. I had to promise to look after him and we had to report to the police in Pusan airport. This did not go down well with Eric, who was bridling with rage and embarrassment but did manage to keep his temper (Eric, if you can’t take a joke!) – while I enjoyed a private, but very silent, giggle. Still all jolly good fun, Eric?
The trip was a total waste of time anyway as the company who wanted to see us actually made car seat belts and knew as much about marine radars as I did about particle physics. Why Eric had not checked them out I have no idea, but at least there was no egg on my face. Anyhow, on the return flight at Pusan Airport, we had the same problem again and more policemen were called, the slip of paper issued by Seoul police was examined and checked, phone calls made and stern warnings issued before we were allowed through security.
Eric seemed doomed with Korean Air as on the next trip, even though he had his passport, as we arrived at the domestic terminal at Kimpo Airport to check in, the airline computers all went down. The crowd of shouting Koreans round the check-in desk grew. The delays grew. The Korean passengers grew noisier and more agitated and they were now pushing round the check-in desks, but nothing was happening. I worked my way to the front in Korean style and tried to find out what was going on. Then, Eric appeared at my shoulder. He was clearly getting edgy. The flight was due to go in thirty minutes and Eric was not where he thought he should be.
In his best English he shouted across at the poor girl, “Look, I know it’s not your fault my dear, but I MUST get this flight and you do not seem to be doing anything about it. Why have you not given out the boarding passes? Please get on with it now and give us our boarding passes?” He waved his hand expectantly across the desk.
“So sorry,” was the smooth, unconcerned reply. “Computer down. Must do manual check-in. Please wait.”
Eric withdrew, defeated. Over his shoulder, he called, “Oh, you sort it out. You know this place.” He gave a dismissive wave of his wrist and moved out of the crush. After that, Eric’s saying of “I know it’s not your fault, my dear, but,” became a family saying normally heralding a bollocking for the poor unfortunate whose fault it clearly was.
When she finally handed out the boarding passes to everyone, I started to push my way out of the crowd. Eric called across to me, “You did get two seats together, didn’t you?” I said nothing until I was clear of the crowd. I handed him his pass. “Eric, just be grateful we are on the flight. Now, let’s go.”
It all worked out well in the end because I had a peaceful flight as Eric was sitting ten rows in front of me and I could see that he was stuck in the middle seat of three, with two very large Korean men on either side for company. Eric was right. It is all jolly good fun!
In spite of his minor tribulations when travelling, Eric was always good company as he liked to tell a tale and he was naturally cheerful, except when he felt that the world was not doing what he thought it ought to. “Isn’t this all jolly good fun” was the catchphrase he would often use as he briefed me on my role for another meeting. He was bombastic and dogmatic, but I just tried to duck all that and enjoy the ride. It was all a new learning curve for me.
One evening after we had got back into the Lotte Hotel in Seoul from another visit, we agreed to meet up in the coffee shop for a late meal. I was there first and I sat and watched as Eric came puffing round the corner with a really flushed face and a big smile. He could not wait to tell me his news.
“Do you know what has just happened to me?” he asked excitedly.
“No Eric, what has just happened?”
“I have just been propositioned, dear boy, in the lobby! And she was a beautiful girl, too!”
He was delighted. One of the Seoul ladies had collared him in the lobby as he came out of the lift. I think he thought that he had been selec
ted for his good looks and physical potential and not the size of his wallet, but I did not disillusion him. In those days the ladies were able to wander relatively freely around the Lotte Lobby, which must have been one of the biggest lobbys in any hotel anywhere. Sometimes, the girls would hang around near the reception desk and find out which room you were given. On more than one occasion, I had no sooner got into the room than the phone would ring and the singsong call of “Hello, Mr Gary, you like companee tonight?” would trill down the phone.
One of the good things about travelling with Eric was that you always ate well. He insisted on the à la Carte restaurants rather than my usual coffee shops. We would enter a restaurant and as we were shown to our table, Eric would say to the Maitre D’, “Bring us a chilled bottle of Chablis now and then bring the wine list and then bring the menu.” He worked his way through the menus with a studious devotion that was obviously done so as not to upset the chefs by ignoring a course or leaving any food on his plate. A ‘quick meal’ was a two-hour affair.
During his involvement, Eric and I met many people, and at the end of the day, we started a solid relationship with one of the five major Korean companies which led to a major manufacturing deal for marine radars. However, it was one that was not to run smoothly and got me into more trouble later on.
Jet Lag and company changes
Jet lag is always a problem on trips to the Far East. On one trip, I flew all the way through to Tokyo – via Bahrain and Hong Kong – and it knocked me for six. For the first couple of nights in Tokyo, I was really suffering and hardly sleeping at all and then having to battle to stay awake all day. I felt as though my head was full of cotton wool and treacle, so meetings were a real struggle. I was there for just a few days and then flew on to Korea. The bad sleep continued as KY and I did our rounds of the shipyards. I ended up feeling really fed up with it and barely able to think straight.