My somewhat boring flight from Diego Garcia to Fujairah Air Base ended none too soon. The air base looked brand new, no airplanes were on the tarmac, and I swear they opened the terminal just for me. I was met on the Tarmac by a white-robed person wearing a red and white checked ghutra. The interior of the terminal was all marble, brass, and glass. It had brand new color baggage x-ray machines. I put my shoulder bags on the scanner, then lifted my bag and my toolbox up there as well. When the toolbox interior showed up on the screen, the operator saw the wires the dials, and the probes, all in a sort of living color and gave me a very hard look. I pointed at myself, and yes you guessed it, “Engineer” I said. It worked again. He pointed at me and said “Engineer? You are an Engineer?” He then pointed at the box and asked if, he could see inside.

“Sure, I would be glad to show you”. I took out my key unlocked it, and preceded to show him my expensive volt-ohm meter, data cable testers, coax and cat 5 termination tools, boxed oversized label maker, and a lot of cross-connect wire.

“I installed a communications system on a ship and am now on my way home,” I said.

He understood and seemed genuinely interested in what was in the box and what I do with all its contents.

He escorted me to an office and inside were three white-robed gentlemen dressed just like the scanner technician of course. Most all Emirate men dress the same back then, and I guess that has not changed. They were sitting next to the wall reading newspapers. Not sure what else they were there for considering I was the only passenger in the place. There was also a military-looking man, and I say that because he was in uniform. He asked for my passport and travel papers. He looked them over and said he had been expecting my arrival, and told me that the shipping agent was on his way, but it may be an hour or so and to make myself comfortable.

“Have a seat, and can I offer you a cup of tea?”

That sounded good to me so I said yes.

He had a glass tea dispenser on a table next to his desk and he opened up a spigot and filled a shot glass-sized cup with tea. He handed it to me with two hands and I took it the same way. It felt warm and I took a big swallow. Big mistake. It was like drinking warm sugar syrup, and I choked on it.

“Tha-at’s cough, very, cough, good,” I said. I could hear the gentlemen chuckling behind their newspapers.

The officer said, “I am so sorry, I should have told you to sip it slowly.”

I had a feeling he knew exactly what would happen, but no hard feelings. I drank the rest slowly and then asked for a refill.

I heard a chant in the distance, quite compelling, it was the Call to Prayer over the city loudspeakers. The officer excused himself and said he needed to answer that call and would be back in a few minutes, and I should remain in the office. I said that is no problem, I am content to sit here.

It wasn’t that long before my ride, the shipping agent, showed up with a letter of passage, which the officer signed and kept a copy and then we walked out to his car and were on our way to Dubai. It would take about an hour and a half, almost due west which seemed to be my primary direction. My driver, a very polite man who spoke very good English introduced himself as Manish. A good name that means thoughtful and wise. As we traveled and he told me about the UAE it became obvious to me that he possessed them both.

I learned a lot about the UAE as we traveled across the country. I learned that native Emirates do not work, they receive a very large allowance from the government. They may be partners in a business started by someone from another country, like a Mercedes dealership for example but they are silent partners for the most part. Foreign business people are required to take on an Emirate as a partner if they want to be in business in the UAE. As it turns out Indians and Filipinos do almost if not all the actual manual labor in the country, building roads, homes, and operating retail establishments.

UAE is a desert country, which you most likey knew, but we passed a number of houses with large plush green lawns. Those, Manish told me, belonged to the natives, and the bigger the lawn, and the satellite dish on the roof, the richer the folks within, or so they were trying to say.

We passed a castle. I asked Manish about it.

“It is one of the King’s castles.”

“Does he live there?” I asked.

“No, that is his receiving castle, where he greets foreign visitors and dignitaries.”

A castle built for shaking hands so to speak. That is something else.

Dubai was then and even more so now a very modern, and very rich city. I was there before some of the more famous towers opened, but I did see the Jumeirah Mosque. I saw great highways full of luxury car dealerships. It was almost like a fairy city the way I entered it. We reached our destination at about dusk, the Emirates Hotel. A lot of things had that name I guess. Manish dropped me off, I sincerely thanked him for his service and his travel guide experience. He told me I was very welcome and that was that.

I checked into the hotel and was assigned a very nice room, quite large with a huge bathroom that had a great tub in it. I figured that there was a good restaurant in the hotel but I was exhausted and didn’t feel like eating alone. What I did want was a good soak in the tub, And that is just what I did. Afterward, I called Diane, the 12-hour time difference not stopping me from using my AT&T card and we spoke for an expensive while. I missed her terribly. After we finished our call, I sat for a few minutes watching TV while nibbling on some smoked Wahoo that I just happened to have. That stuff hit the spot with a tall glass of water. It hit the spot and I hit the hay because I had a very early flight to catch in the morning.

Day whatever something around 8 or 9 maybe. My wake-up call went off at 4 or 5 am UAE time. I didn’t set the alarm or ask for a call but the front desk knew to get rid of me. I didn’t think about leaving the hotel the night before, and even if I wanted to, not having a visa, It was best for me to stay right where I was.

I got dressed, skipped breakfast and hauled my stuff down to the lobby, and got on the bus for the airport.

The airport was a surprise. Here we are in a Muslim country and the place was decorated for Christmas. I didn’t expect that and it was decorated quite well, better than a lot of places in the states. The young lady who checked me in was wearing the typical head covering but her makeup was well gorgeous. She was a very pretty young woman, as were most ladies I saw during my short time there.

After getting my boarding pass, I had some time to kill, so I wondered about the Emirates terminal. I wanted to purchase something for Diane, and I found a duty-free bottle of cologne, Jean Paul Gaultier I think, it came in a fancy tin can and back then cost a lot, normally. She kept that bottle around for years.

I will admit that at about this time, I was starting to feel a bit draggy and was very happy to finally get on the plane and fly out, heading west so it stayed dark for quite a while. I had a row of four seats to myself and I took advantage of them. Once in the air and the seat belt sign went off, I stretched out and tried to sleep, without much success. So I tried watching TV but just like in the hotel, all channels seemed to be showing Indian programs, soaps, Bollywood, or talk shows. I finally set the TV in front of my seat for a plane eye’s view of the ground we were flying over, and the second TV for a map of our eight-hour flight. Eight hours if there was no circling over Gatwick for whatever reason. And there wasn’t. The flight food was okay, don’t remember what it was but the service was really good. It was a very impressive airline and I suspect it is still good.

We made it to London and after leaving the plane, I took my time getting to the check-in for my flight to Dallas, Texas where I would change planes for Norfolk, Virginia. I took my time because I had a lot of time to kill, six hours. When I showed up at the desk, the young English ladies were quite upset with me. They almost sent security to look for me. When I asked why, it was because I did not have a visa and the only “legal” place I was allowed to be was in the International Flight terminal area, which included the built-in shopping mall. I apologized and said well I am here now so point me to where I need to be.

The mall was two stories tall around an open foyer with bookstores, a Guinness shop, a Harrods, Burberry’s, and other pricey places to wonder about and grab a bite to eat. I may have bought a sandwich or eaten Wahoo, I don’t remember. I did spend a bunch of money, I bought a Guinness rugby shirt for me, which Joel still wears some twenty-four years later, a Harrod’s teddy bear for Jeri, which she still has, a Cathiness paper weight for Diane, which I don’t know if she kept that one or not and a London hat for me. That hat went somewhere when we sold our house a few years ago but I don’t remember where or who has it now. I bought a six-pack of beer from the Guinness shop and have no idea why, when I think you could get it in the states. I gave that to my son-in-law.

While sitting twiddling my thumbs I came across an older American man with an Army Vet cap on. He was sitting addressing postcards, lots of them. I sat down beside him and noticed something strange about what he was doing. The address he was sending the cards to was all the same, but the return addresses were different from each other. I couldn’t help but point that out.

“Well, I do it this way so I don’t have ta pay any postage” was his reply “You see if there is no stamp on the card they have to send it back to where it was mailed from, and so I put the address of where I want that to be…works like a charm!”

Okay. Well, I can see how that might work but honestly? Oh never mind,

Time passed very slowly before I got on the American flight to Dallas, where I would stay with American to Norfolk if I was still alive by then, cause I was starting to fade really fast. By the time I spent another eleven hours on a plane to Dallas and add approximately 2.8 hours flying to Norfolk, I would have spent 46 hours in the air for my trip to Diago Garcia, almost two days, plus the hotel time. I didn’t spend as much time traveling as I did on the ship but it sure seemed like it, and it couldn’t have been all that much less.

Once on the plane, a 747, I grabbed my seat in one of the center rows. I had quite enough. Somewhere over the Atlantic, I fell into some kind of involuntary sleep. Maybe while we were over Canada or while flying south along the Mississippi River, I woke with a start and kicked the tray of the man sitting to my right. That kick sent all his little booze bottles flying. He was already a bit drunk and said don’t worry about it As it turns out those bottles were his tranquilizers and the thing that made his long flights bearable. He offered me some but I passed. I did pull out my Jerky and eat some which caused the whole cabin to turn and sniff the air. I heard some passengers ask what that odor was because it smelled great. I put it away before I caused a Wahoo riot. That flight ended at some point and I am to this day not sure how I got to the next check-in.

The flight attendants on the American plane to Norfolk were concerned about me. It seems I was talking a bit of nonsense when I checked in (imagine that, me talking nonsense) they heard about that, and one of them asked what I had been doing the last few days. I told her that I had been flying west for almost 24 hours give or take a couple of hours plus sitting around airports and I was feeling a bit tired. She grabbed my hand and led me to the back row of the plane. She told me to take the whole row and pulled some pillows and a nice blanket down from the overhead. She said to lie down and go to sleep. She would wake me on approach to Norfolk so I wouldn’t be on the plane the whole night since it was the last flight for that plane until the next morning. I did exactly what she told me to do.

I fell asleep, and time passed without me knowing it. She woke me with a gentle shake, I said thank you, and I gratefully left the plane.

The only thing left to do was collect my luggage and toolbox, and all of it made it home with me, and then walk out to the person who I loved most in this world, load up the car with the stuff that had traveled around the world with me, and let her drive me home. Once there I could climb into bed and sleep to my heart’s content. That is just what happened, well almost.

The End.

Just a final note. My trip to Diego Garcia would not have been possible except for the folks who at the time worked in the Portsmouth office for the late Congressman Norman Sisisky. They expedited my passport and procured my Navy Travel Papers. They were great in helping me have one of the best adventures ever. And I wish to thank, which I also did many years ago, Nortech Marine (long gone now) in Port Amboy, New Jersey for having faith in me for many years.

Derrick