Durrah Resort Hotel, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 1998-03-24 07:30 local (Z+3)
This morning, for the moment, I'm going to ignore the bad—my bad, that is—and relate some of the good.
The first “good” is that I've not yet been called for a flight. That might change in the next hour or so. If it doesn't, I'll put on running clothes, run the two miles to the crew scheduling villa and assess my chances of avoiding the hassle of flying out of and back into Jeddah for the rest of the day.
I arrived here late in the evening of the 19th. I was fortunate to be operating in rather than commercialling in. We ferried an empty airplane from Athens to here. The airplane was the oldest one in terms of service with Tower, being the second one purchased. The very first one was scrapped before I came to Tower.
The airplane had been in Athens to have fuel leaks fixed. It being out-of-service had reduced Tower to three aircraft flying out of Jeddah. Things would get worse. Yesterday morning we were down to one working aircraft. The one we had brought from Athens had developed bad hydraulic leaks in the tail. Another had been sent to JFK on a maintenance ferry with fuel leaks that were too bad to handle in Athens or here, and another was grounded with fuel migration problems.
This morning we are, according to the mechanics with whom I just had breakfast, back up to two airplanes. The airplane with fuel migration problems was fixed by borrowing parts—two fuel seals—off the King's 747. That shows how badly Saudia needs Tower's aircraft. Still, two out of four is not good, and Saudia is very unhappy with Tower. Basically Tower sent the good airplanes to the Jakarta Hajj—all three of those are working—and the old, beat up ones here. That's fair. If they give us shit work, they get shit airplanes. But two out of four is bad even for shit airplanes.
Back to operating in rather than commercialling in. The advantage was that I was able to get to our operations people before having to clear immigration. Had I commercialled in, I would have had to have depended on our crew scheduling department to notify our operations people that a pilot was coming in for the Saudia operation without a multiple exit-entry work visa.
Crew scheduling had not, in fact, alerted them. Had I commercialled in, I would have had to have depended on the captain and flight engineer with whom I arrived to have raised an alarm the next day when I didn't show at the hotel. They had been here before, had their visas, and proceeded direct to the hotel from operations. I was taken over to the international terminal to await my fate.
I was extremely apprehensive, but things went well. It took only three hours for our ops people to get my visa and get me out of immigration. It took five hours for the captain I was with to get his visa the first time through. Numerous crew members have been stuck twelve to twenty-four hours, and two were even thrown into the airport jail and then ordered out of the country. There's no rhyme nor reason to all this. It's just the luck of the draw depending on what Saudi official is in charge, how he feels that day, and how much power he feels like exerting. I got lucky, and that was a definite good, although maybe it would have been worth twenty-four hours in the airport jail—just a holding area really—to have been denied entry. I certainly would have then been sent to Jakarta. Oh, well, a missed opportunity. <g>
Tower has two people here, Farouk and Himash, both Egyptians, working as Government Affairs Representatives. In other words, their job is get you into and out of the country with as little hassle as possible.
Three things of note about the process of getting me through: first, when I got to the item asking for my religion on the application form, I had to lie. Himash was my handler, and I asked him what would happen if I put down the truth here, in other words “none”. He immediately became agitated and said I must put down christian. Amazing how willing we are, at least me, to compromise basic principles when a lie will avoid difficulties. Well, I at least spelled christian without capitalizing it, and vented my frustration by explaining to Hamish that, in my opinion, all religions were nothing more than somebody's tormented, wishful-thinking.
The irony of the visa situation is that I now have, unwanted, a visa in my passport that I would have given a great deal to have when C.J. and I lived in Saudi Arabia. That simple stamp allows me to come and go at will for work purposes and to keep my passport rather than surrender it while in the country. I do have to get an exit letter to leave the country when commercialling out or when leaving while operating but with no firm plans to return. Exit letters take three days to get. Exit visas, like C.J. and I had to get when leaving Saudi, take three weeks, assuming they can find your passport that they lifted from you when you entered the country.
Jeddah's airport lies on the city's northern edge. A forty minute drive further north along the Red Sea brought us to the Durrah Beach Resort. Now tourism is not permitted in Saudi Arabia. Even the movement of foreigners within the country is restricted. So, this is a resort for upper class Saudis and expatriates living in the Jeddah area. But for the Tower contingent here, about two hundred and fifty pilots, mechanics, flight attendants, etc., it's outwardly pretty dead during the week, although I hear there's some wild parties to be had most every night among the flight attendant group. During the weekend—Thursday and Friday here—it really fills up. I arrived here Thursday night, the equivalent of Saturday night in our culture, and the place was jammed.
...intermission for a run to crew scheduling...