Exciting Times

It's hard to overstate just how chaotic Tripoli was in September 1970. The Italian colonists were all being processed out. The oil companies were being harassed and their production cut back. And on top of that, the young engineers were not having their work permits renewed. I remember running into my boss at a suburban burger joint and asking what was to become of me. His response basically was "has nobody given you any idea of what may come next?" which just illustrated that even inside Mobil there was chaos.

Towards the end of September I got my Exit visa and it was "Home James and Farewell Libya". Then of course I was embroiled in the rescheduling of the wedding, rebooking a venue and advising guests of the new date……..October 15th. It was a mad flurry of activity, which thankfully ended up working out very, very well. The weather was good (i.e. no rain), the church was University church on St. Stephen's Green and the reception was held in Malahide.

It may have been relief that no problems at all arose, but I remember thinking, as people danced, and drank and had a good time, that this — the wedding reception — was the best party I had been at in some long time! There really wasn't an organised honeymoon, but after the festivities had drawn to somewhat of a close after around 10 pm, I drove us to a nice hotel beside the Bank of Ireland in College Green, double parked the car with the engine running, grabbed our bag and wished the porter Good Evening. We sorted things out next morning and drove to 110 for lunch with the parents! We eventually did get away for a few days, only slightly spoiled when the hood of the MGB flew up while we were driving and ended up with a serious bend in it. The hood was tied down with some string for the rest of the trip.

Shortly after making my getaway from Tripoli I was surprised to get an actual telegram from Mobil offering to pay me a per-diem while they sought to find me a job. Wow! I didn't even know what a per-diem was, but soon realised that they would pay me essentially for being at home. Nice deal. So, after the wedding I got called to London a number of times to see if the opportunity they had identified might be of interest. One that did appeal was flogging bunker fuels to Greek ship owners. The interviewer cautioned that the job involved carousing until the early hours with the Greeks — did I think I would have the stomach for that? I certainly did think I'd enjoy it….but for how long? In my own line of work (which I loved and desperately wanted to pursue) I went to Germany to look at joining Mobil Germany. The location was near the East German border, was rainy and overcast, and the staff were, well….German. I took a chance and turned down the offer. A young English engineer did take the job and over a lifetime career got perhaps three promotions. Another bullet dodged.

I had now been over and back to London four times for differing opportunities, without anything taking my fancy. And remember, all this time they were paying me a daily allowance. I wasn't sure how long this could last.

On the next trip to London, I was half offered a job in Iran, but before I left my hotel I was called back to the interviewer and offered a job in Abu Dhabi. The way it was pronounced, I thought this was somewhere in Wales! Imagine my surprise when, after a furious rush to get ready in short order, I found myself on the 30th of December in the barren wastes of the Persian Gulf. More on how the arrival went next time.