If You Can't Take a Joke...

by Gordon Gray

  I was then due to fly across to Dharan on the East coast, where the ports of Al Jubail and Al Dammam were reportedly interested in harbour radar systems. These were near to the huge oil terminal of Ras Tannurah where we already had a harbour radar system installed. On the East coast was an engineer called Steve, who worked for the Jeddah agent as his East Coast man. Steve met me at Dharan Airport and took me to the hotel, a small Holiday Inn in the little town of Al Khobar.

  As we got into the car, Steve started chatting about the area. Steve was in his late thirties and was an open and easy-going guy. “I have been here for over fifteen years,” he began. “The last four in Saudi. I was in the UAE before here. I love it. I love the country, its history and the people are great once you gain their trust and get to know them a bit.”

  He had read up on the history of Saudi and grown even more interested in it as a result. He carried on, “Saudi was not formed as a country until 1932 when King Abdul Aziz Al Saud conquered the last of the warring tribes and united the country. Since then, the Saudi has been run as an Islamic state under an Absolute Monarchy. King Abdul Aziz and his sons have run the country since then and still do today through the many sons and nephews of the Abdul Aziz” Steve chatted on as he drove, “You should also know that all the laws are based on the Sharia. That is the Code of Law taken directly from the Koran. The punishments handed out today are centuries old and beheadings are still carried out for murder and other serious crimes.”

  I asked about oil. “Oil was not discovered here until 1938 but today Saudi is one of the richest countries in the world as it has roughly 40% of the world’s oil reserves. You should try and see Saudi as it once was, so if you ever get to Riyadh then try and go out to the old capital, a place called Diraiyah, which is not far from modern Riyadh. It is fascinating and gives you a good feel of what this place was like not that long ago.”

  In the space of twenty minutes my whole view of Saudi changed.

  Over the next three days as we drove up and down the East coast between meetings, he chatted about the history of Saudi and the places we passed through. Steve knew what local tribal battles had been fought in the local areas and showed me a few of the sites. His enthusiasm was catching. I too found it fascinating after the gloom and attitude of the office in Jeddah. He recommended that I read a book called The Kingdom by Richard Lacey if I really wanted to start to understand about Saudi and how it works. When I got home, I bought a copy and Steve was right; it is a fascinating read.

  Steve taught me that ‘to have interest’ in a place you have ‘to take an interest’ and learn about it. The more you learn, the more interesting it becomes. He understood the vital and central role that Islam and its history played in the country. To think that in the 1930s Saudi was a barren desert with a scattering of warring tribes, no real wealth and little obvious future; then Abdul Aziz al Saud finally united the tribes and led his people to form the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Once oil was discovered, the West could not wait to be friends. The rest, as they say, is history. I flew back to the UK from Dharan and left Saudi with a deepening interest that stayed with me during many later visits.

  Steve and his interesting viewpoint of all things Saudi made the trip for me.

  Travelling Alone

  Over the years that I was travelling, on most trips I was on my own. The company of a colleague was a fairly rare event. “You must get lonely?” people would say to me. “No, not really. I enjoy being on my own” tended to be my answer. I was always comfortable in my own company and rarely yearned for someone else to talk to. I enjoyed the freedom of evenings to myself to catch up on writing reports or, latterly, emails, or reading. The only downside was that long trips could become a bit of a slog; so it was a nice change when the trip demanded that a technical or commercial colleague joined me for a few days. I sometimes wished that there was someone to discuss things with over a coffee or to offer advice over a presentation or perhaps how to put across a technical point in a meeting, but otherwise I just got on with it and dealt with any problems that arose; be they domestic or business related. I would meet an agent occasionally and the customers obviously, but there was no one with whom I could discuss company or business matters. As each salesman in the division had a different region or territory, then we rarely met each other at all. Even when I was back in the office, at least half the other guys would be overseas in their patches or on leave. A few of the guys did find the travelling tough, especially the younger ones and those with young families. It is not the lifestyle for someone in that situation. There are too many concerns about what may or may not be happening at home where a wife has been left to sort out everything; be it children’s illnesses, school or domestic problems, be they a broken washing machine or a sick relation. It was a bit like being in the navy. The navy taught me a degree of self sufficiency and how to just get on with the job, so I was better prepared to cope with the separation and with working on my own than some people were.

  On that first trip, the flight home from Saudi was on a Friday with Swiss Air via Geneva to Heathrow. We arrived late in Geneva and I knew I only had minutes to make my connection to the last London flight of the day. I dashed to the connecting gate where a pleasant lady told me that the other passengers had already been boarded and the flight was ready to go. I must hurry as I was the last. I knew my case would not make the connection but it was the last flight of the day to London. The plane was out on an open stand and a mini bus was quickly arranged to take me out to the plane. It was a dark winter’s night and there was slush and ice on the tarmac. The minibus raced across the deserted aprons. We could see the plane, a small twin engine commuter jet standing with its orange lights flashing through the dark, but thankfully the door was open and the steps were still down. Light from the cabin spilled down onto the tarmac and the ice glinted in the snow piled nearby. The minibus skidded to a halt at the foot of the aircraft steps. I could see that the steps were the small lightweight ones that folded out and retracted back into the plane’s fuselage when not in use.

  “Off you go and have a good flight,” called the driver. I could hear the plane’s engines being run up as she was all ready to go, except for her one last passenger.

  “Thanks a lot,” I cried as I grabbed my briefcase and jumped out onto the tarmac and into the cold, noisy air. I was reminded of James Bond leaping onto moving aircraft to capture the baddies.

  I ran the last few paces to the foot of the steps and out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a slim, blonde stewardess standing at the top inside the plane. I gauged the distance and the number of steps and made a leap for the middle step. As I did so, my foot slipped in the slush, then my other foot missed the middle step. I pedalled like mad and the next thing I knew I was sprawled in a heap on the cabin floor still clutching my briefcase. The stewardess looked down at me in a bewildered way and everyone at the front of the cabin seemed to be peering round their seats and staring at me as if I was a lunatic.

  “Good evening, sir, welcome onboard!” she said. “You were late, but we would have waited while you walked up the steps.”

  So much for my James Bond impression. I staggered to my feet and blushingly found my way to my seat.

  Minehunters

  Some years, later I was the Middle East Area Sales Manager with Plessey Naval Systems. I worked for an ex-RN captain, and Fleet Air Arm pilot called Bill Hawley. Bill was in his late fifties, a stocky, bull terrier of a man and a Fleet Air Arm legend. He had flown every type of naval aircraft from Swordfishes to Phantoms and was still alive to tell the tale. He was firm and fair and as long as he knew what we were doing, he let us get on with the job. He was one of the best bosses I ever had. Bill also recognised that as we were selling naval systems. The old Plessey company made everything from sonobuoys to torpedoes, from radars to submarine sonars, as well as command and control systems. Bill believed that it was vital to have sales staff who were from a naval background and understood what they were talking about
and could relate to their naval customers. All twenty of us in the Sales Department were ex-RN, either ex-senior rates who were experts in their field or former officers who had run sonar or command teams.

  Bill ran the department like an RN ship. There were no office politics here. We all knew what we were meant to do and were trusted to get on and do it. Bill always wanted a face to face debrief before and after any trip, but apart from that left us to our own devices. I later discovered that many bosses never seemed to bother to ask how the trip went and I often wondered if they even bothered to read the visit reports. Bill always insisted that the very first thing we did after a trip was to complete our expense claims. As I have already described, there is more hassle and grief when expenses are either not done, done wrongly or receipts are lost, than any other issue. Once the accountants get hold of a dodgy expense claim, then heaven help you and everyone else. Bill, by making us do our claims before anything else, removed the pressure from us so we could get it done properly.

  Part of the job involved talking to UK and European shipyards and persuading them to offer Plessey equipment as part of their ship’s fit and then supporting them in their overseas sales campaigns. I was in close touch with Vosper Thorneycroft (VT), who were working hard to secure a minehunter contract with Saudi Arabia as a part of the Al Yamamah 2 contract. This was a complicated government-togovernment contract based mainly around military aircraft and to be paid for in oil, but the UK defence industry was keen to try and meet other Saudi needs – one of which was to update its mine countermeasures capability as there had been a lot of trouble with mines in the Gulf. Unfortunately, the French were aware of this need and were trying hard to secure a separate deal for themselves.

  I made many visits to Riyadh, which had now become a more open city that foreigners were allowed to visit on business and foreign embassies had been established there. Overseas companies could operate in Riyadh under the guidance of their local sponsors. The Saudi MOD was based there, along with the Royal Saudi Naval Forces (RSNF) HQ.

  Plessey had their own sponsor and an expat resident man in Riyadh, Peter Buchanan. Peter was an ex-army officer, very professional, brisk and to the point. He was also keen as mustard. He had recently taken over and was as eager as I was to try and secure the minehunting deal. Over many months, we gave presentations to the operational, technical and senior levels of the Royal Saudi Navy, backed up by written briefs to answer specific questions or issues. Bill, however, was not convinced that we had any chance of winning against the French, who were our main competitor and notorious for somehow clinching the major deals. The French have a justified reputation of leaving no stone unturned to make sure they win any contract they feel they want.

  On one of Peter’s visits to the UK, Bill called us both into his office. “Look,” he said, “I know that you both think you can win this Saudi thing, but I think that you are wasting your time. The minehunters will go to the French as a sop for the UK winning the aircraft deal, which will go to BAE. Vosper may even win the contract for the ship’s hulls, but the French are fighting for those too and I think they will at least win the minehunting systems. The Saudis won’t want to upset the French by cutting them out completely as they are currently trying to buy frigates from France too. However, if you both really think you have a chance, then I will back you to try and win it, but don’t hold your breath!”

  “Bill, you are wrong,” countered Peter. “This is definitely winnable. We have done well so far and the locals are with us.”

  “OK,” said Bill. “Then go for it!”

  Peter and I left Bill’s office even more determined to try and win. We continued our lobbying, writing briefing notes and giving presentations to the various staff in Naval HQ, BAE and VT staff in Riyadh. We visited the Saudi Naval bases where they had their existing minehunters, which were old ex-American mine sweepers with small, obsolete sonars fitted to them. The Saudis readily admitted that these were not of much use. The plan was to see if in addition to the six new ships we could propose that these ships could be upgraded with modern sonars and command systems.

  One day, I returned to the office after a trip to another part of the Gulf and as I walked into the sales area, the lovely Alex, our blonde secretary, called out, “Oh, Gordon, the managing director wants to see you immediately when you get in. He says it’s urgent.”

  Alex had a wicked sense of humour and I just thought she was joking, so said, “Well, Alex, when I have had a couple of coffees, caught up on all your scandals and done my expenses, I will go and see what the young lad wants.”

  Whereupon Bill called through his open office door in the corner. “Alex is serious, Gordon; it’s OK, but you do need to go and see Derek right now.”

  “OK, Bill, fine,” I said.

  I left my briefcase by Alex’s desk and walked nervously round to the managing director’s office area. What on earth have I done now? I wondered. It was only Bill’s “It’s OK” that stopped me panicking there and then. As I walked in, Clare, the MD’s PA said “Go straight in Gordon”. What on earth was going on?

  Derek Wilson, the managing director, was one of the nicest men I knew to have as an managing director. He had none of the usual bull and bluster you associate with some managing directors; he was just a normal, quiet and pleasant man.

  “Gordon, welcome back, now sit down. What I am going to tell you is government classified information and is not to be repeated to anyone else, either here at the office or outside. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Derek.”

  “The Saudis have asked the UK Government to get VT to send their negotiation team out to Riyadh tomorrow to finalise the technical details and negotiate a deal on the minehunters. They have also asked for you to be on the team to cover the MCM systems. You have to go up to the Saudi Embassy today and get a visa, which is waiting for you to collect, and you will get the BA flight to Saudi in the morning. The VT team will also be on that flight. Clare has your ticket already. The reason for the secrecy and the urgency is that the Saudis do not want the French to know about the visit. So, I repeat, you must NOT tell anyone about this trip. I have spoken to Peter Buchanan this morning and he is expecting you. He assures me you have all the material you need out there already, but take anything else you need from here, just as long as you fly out tomorrow. Good luck.”

  “Thanks Derek,” was all I could muster. I saw Bill, then grabbed a coffee and set off to drive back up the road to London and the Saudi Embassy.

  My visa was added to my passport in the embassy and I was amazed to find it was a “Multi Entry, Indefinite Time” visa. For Saudi Arabia, these were as rare as hen’s teeth. Normally we went in and out on single-entry, thirty-day visas as that was all they would issue to businessmen. This was going to be a special trip.

  The next day found me in a club-class seat on the BA flight to Dharan where I met up with the Vosper guys. We cleared immigration there, then transferred onto a domestic flight down to Riyadh and settled into our hotel, the Intercontinental. The next day we started two weeks of negotiations with the Royal Saudi Navy concerning the final specifications for the minehunters. The VT team numbered well over ten as they had engine experts, glass reinforced plastic (GRP) experts, naval architects and electronics engineers on their team as well as a team from their ship logistics and support division. The UK team was led by the UK Naval Attache in Riyadh, commander Nick Carr RN, who acted as the UK Chairman.

  The Royal Saudi Navy team was led by their director of operations, although the real decision-maker was the Vice Commander of the Navy – a rear admiral who was also a royal prince. The Saudi team was of a similar number to the Vosper team and I recognised a number of faces from previous meetings. Each team sat along opposite sides of a huge conference table in the boardroom on the top floor of Naval HQ and we had a number of offices behind our side of the room that were allocated to the VT team for private meetings during the negotiations. I sat at the back and listened in fascination as the nego
tiations commenced.

  After two or three days of general discussions on the hull design, engines, construction technology, endurance, layout of the ships etc; various sub groups were formed to go off and discuss the final points of specific areas of the ship in more detail, all with a view to agreeing a final technical specification against which a contract could be placed. By this time, the fine details were being covered including the need to have special rice boilers fitted in the galleys.

  On the fourth morning, I was then called on to present the Plessey Minehunting system proposal to the main group. The commodore said, “We must now decide on the sonar and command system. Commander W will lead that group once we have all heard from the Plessey Company.”

  Commander W, a friendly and kindly man who I knew from earlier visits, took over and simply said, “Gordon, please tell us why we should have your system rather than the French system.”

  That was clear enough, I thought. I nodded to Peter who had the carousel projector from the office in a box.