Life as a North Sea Tiger and Beyond

By Terry Thomas

Terry returned from Saudi Arabia in the May of 1978 after a year in the Kingdom, with a spring in his step and over flowing with enthusiasm, feeling that he could secure a job using the experience he had gained during his time in operations engineering in the Eastern Province of Saudi. Having cut his teeth in a demanding environment and coming out the other end full of ambition to move on in the Petroleum industry and how soon he was to discover it was not to be as easy as he first thought.
Experiencing an educational system of the 50’s and the inadequacies of that system made Terry realise at an early age that things don’t come simple and if you really want something then you had better be prepared to work hard to get it. Coming back from Saudi Arabia after soaking up so much experience in the petroleum industry he expected to walk into employment without any problems. When that was not the case, it was like another wakeup call and reasserted what Terry had previously experienced, that nothing comes without an inner drive from yourself to make it happen.
Originally his wife and himself had agreed that he would work in Saudi Arabia for two years but at the end of the first year and in the fifth week of his six weeks leave period after which Terry was supposed to return, they realised that neither relished the idea of being apart from each other and Terry being away from his family for another year. He was only too willing to agree that he needed to seek work nearer home and so the search began in July 1978.
After many interviews and rejected contracts he finally found his dream job in the North Sea Petroleum industry and his career takes off with an engineering construction company he remained with for over thirty years. The book tells of the projects and people he was engaged with including many adventures and events that transpired over the span of his career.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Jun 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781984595263

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Copyright © 2020 by Terry Thomas.

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Rev. date: 06/08/2020

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CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 1    Job Search and a Steam Train Driver

Chapter 2    Interviews and the Fall of the Shah of Iran

Chapter 3    Aberdeen and Offshore Here I Come

Chapter 4    Survey Slogger and More to Come

Chapter 5    Meet The North Sea Bears

Chapter 6    Odd Characters and Strange Occurances

Chapter 7    North Sea Tiger to Beach Bum and the Delights of Abba

Chapter 8    Southern Comfort in the Southern North Sea

Chapter 9    Dizzy Heights, Frogs Legs and Wells Fargo

Chapter 10    To the Black Pig and Army Manouvres

Chapter 11    West Sole Wooden Heli-Decks and Doctors Notes

Chapter 12    Back to the Black Pig and Auld Aquaintence

Chapter 13    Loch Carron, Sailing Boats and Mussel Farms

Chapter 14    Cows on the Golf Course and Aberdeen’s Best Man for the Job

Chapter 15    Back to Aberdeen and Coffins on Sweatshirts.

Chapter 16    Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Chapter 17    Cormorants and Pelicans

Chapter 18    London Lights and Office Suites

Chapter 19    Clash of Cultures and Consortium

Chapter 20    Move to Aberdeen and the Jewel in the Crown

Chapter 21    The Captain Calls and Golf Hats

Chapter 22    Baku Debt Collecting and Lada Cars

Chapter 23    Rule by Committee the Federal Way

Chapter 24    At Last a Proper Job

Chapter 25    Return to the Land of Fire

Chapter 26    Power of the Chavan

Chapter 27    Second to None and an Azeri Wedding

Chapter 28    Caribbean Dreams and Reality

Chapter 29    Back to Basics and the Grand Finale

Prologue

Acknowledgements

Other Books by the Author

About the Author

Curriculum Vitae

I

dedicate this book to my best friend Dave who sadly passed away in

Spring 2020. The memories still remain and I thank Dave for them.

PREFACE

I returned from Saudi Arabia in the May of 1978, after a year in the Kingdom, with a spring in my step and over flowing with enthusiasm, feeling that I could secure a job using the experience I had gained during my time in operations engineering. I had cut my teeth in a demanding environment and emerged at the other end full of ambition to move on within the Petroleum industry, however, I was soon to discover it was not to be as easy I had thought.

Originally my wife and I had agreed that I would work in Saudi Arabia for two years but at the end of my first year and in the fifth week of my six weeks leave period, after which I was supposed to return, we realised that neither of us relished the idea of me being away from each other and my family for another year. I was only too willing to agree, that I needed to seek work nearer home, in some local firm utilising my skills and so the search began in July 1978.

I had tried ‘phoning various companies and answering newspaper advertisements but securing employment was proving to be illusive. I finally had to go to the Unemployment Office in Peterlee County Durham where we lived to ask for advice and to ‘sign on the dole’. This was probably the most humiliating experience of my life. I was interviewed, well I say interviewed it was more like an interrogation, by an eighteen-year-old girl, not that I had anything against the age of the assistant but I think she had missed the people skills training sessions big time. Having been grilled for 15 minutes I was unable to keep my cool and asked her, Are you going to help me get a job or just sling accusations at me about being a lay about? I tried hard to quell my temper but knew now I had her attention and continued, I am a qualified Engineer seeking employment, I believe I have the skills that would contribute to the success of any company that would deem to employ me. A little self-publicity wouldn’t harm.

Her face was blushing a deep colour of red, the likes I had never seen before and she replied, Look here mister, don’t come the high and mighty with me, you are unemployed and seeking money from this department and I am key to you getting any, some respect wouldn’t go a miss. Yep she had certainly missed the training session.

Respect, I retorted, You have treated me like some cretin ever since I came in here and you talk of respect. Cool it Terry you haven’t finished filling the necessary forms in yet and you may need this lady’s help to do that, said a little voice in my head but to no avail. My rant continued, I have probably paid more tax to the system in my short working life from 16 years old to my current 31 years than you are likely to pay in your whole working life, so don’t you talk to me about respect. There it was off my chest now hopefully we could move forward.

To say the atmosphere was a little frosty would be an understatement, more like an arctic wind passing through the corridors of power at the dole office. Amazingly I managed, with her help, to complete the forms and she advised me that I could collect my ‘dole’ money the Friday of the next week, all £35 of it. No way could I feed my family on that amount of money, no roast chicken on the table for us in the near future. Just as well I had some savings from my salary earned from my Saudi exploits and although I was reluctant to use the money in that way, but there was no other option. I walked out of the Social Services office having been give an appointment to report to the ‘employment desk’ two weeks later, no hurry then! No way was I going to keep that appointment and I left the ‘dole’ office determined to find a job myself.

CHAPTER 1

JOB SEARCH AND A

STEAM TRAIN DRIVER

July 1978 - August 1978

After months of trying to find local employment, my wife and I came to the agreement that I was not going to be successful and needed to expand my search. Before I went to Saudi Arabia in May of 1977, I knew a few people who had obtained work on the Offshore Platforms in the North Sea. I had attempted to secure employment there, however, I was unsuccessful and went to Saudi Arabia to work, another magnet for earning a good salary.

In the interim, I needed to be earning some kind of a wage just to feed the family, pay the mortgage and keep the ‘wolves from the door’. I managed to get a job through a Middlesbrough agency as a Construction Coordinator which was short term (beggars can’t be choosers), so I started at the end of July in a factory unit on an industrial estate close to my house in Peterlee. I met Barry, the company owner I would be employed by, outside the factory unit and he escorted me inside to meet the client. There were two design engineers working on a project to produce a system that utilised pulverised coal, coal dust, to fire a furnace to produce ‘cheap’ heat to factories. At the time it seemed a viable project, however, with the demise of the coal industry, I thought it may go to the wall sooner rather than later and I never found out if it was a success or not and to be truthful, I wasn’t interested. I considered the job as an embarrassing interlude to securing a real job.

I was introduced to the design engineers, and then Barry took me into the factory area to meet the outgoing agency engineer. He was very pleased to see us, in fact, too pleased to see us. His face was beaming and a look of relief transmitting from every pore. I did not like the feeling this was giving me and immediately thought that something was not quite right. After the introductions, Barry left, and zoomed off to some meeting or other which apparently, was imperative for him to attend.

The Agency Engineer, Gary, was pleasant enough and without delay started to explain the role and the progress made to date, which didn’t seem to be much and I was to find out that this was no fault of his own. The hand-over took no more than 30 minutes and he too left. He turned as he reached the exit door and said with too much of a serious tone for my liking, Best of luck but you realise this project is doomed.

That was the last I saw of him but at least he was honest with me, maybe it was not his thing, I am forever the optimist!

I spent the rest of the afternoon going through the notes and drawings associated with the project, which were skimpy to say the least and I decided to talk to the client’s two design engineers to get to know more about what they were trying to achieve. They were not the most cheerful of people and seemed to have a ‘doom and gloom’ demeaner. Was I reading too much into this, maybe, time would tell?

I thought I would cheer myself up and decided to take a trip to the fabricator which was located on the same industrial estate and only a block away from the unit I was situated in. I decided to walk, as the sun was shining and it would allow me to clear my head of all the negativity I had been doused with. I found the unit easily and walked inside to be greeted by a man about my own age and quite cheerful.

I introduced myself, Hi, I’m Terry, I have just taken over from Gary, the engineer from Energy Solutions.

I looked for some sign of acknowledgement on the guy’s face, however, none was to be found. I explored the connection a little further and continued, You know, the engineer who gave you some drawings to fabricate a feed-box?

Still no response. My optimism was dwindling rapidly and I was starting to get a funny feeling in the pit of my gut.

As if an explosion had occurred in his brain he responded, Oh him! Yeh he did bring me some drawings but I haven’t had time to look at them. I’m Ben by the way.

I was taken aback by this and prompted, Gary, that is the engineer, remember? Pausing to see if his brain was connected. He kind of nodded which I took as him remembering who Gary was. He looked at me and I pushed a little harder and said, Yeh, that Gary, he told me you were starting fabrication of the work this week!

Ben spluttered out, No way can we start the work this week, maybe next week, I already told your friend Gary this when he came here!

I didn’t want to hear this, Gary was not my friend but I didn’t feel it necessary to explain this to Ben, I was likely to get more response from ‘Weed’ of Bill and Ben the Flower Pot Men fame.

Ok then, next week you can start the work, correct? I probed.

He replied, Can’t say for sure we are busy you know.

It was trying to get blood out of a stone and only if I had one in my hand this minute all my prayers would be answered.

Desperation was setting in and I raised my tone, Look, you said you would do the job Gary brought the drawings for, all I am trying to find out is when you are actually going to keep your word and do it?

Ok, I’ll speak to the boss and see what I can do, responded Ben.

I retorted, I thought you were the boss? Right, when will all this happen? This is my telephone number call me as soon as you have spoken to the boss. I handed him a piece of paper with the office number on and left him to it, if I hadn’t, heaven knows what I might have done to him. On the way back to the office, I was beginning to understand the reason for the beaming smile and look of sheer relief on Gary’s face when I met him. Cheers for nothing! It was only the first day and I was not happy at all. I resigned myself to the fact it was a wage after all and until I could find something different, I needed to persevere. I went home that evening determined to search the papers for other job opportunities because the current one had a bad smell about it.

I walked into the house and was greeted by the voice of my wife, Jean, shouting from the kitchen, How did you get on?

I replied, Alright, you know first day and all that.

That bad eh? Was her reply as she promptly walked into the living room where I had plonked myself down in a chair and reached for the evening paper to start my job search.

Never mind, tomorrow may make you feel better, it takes time to get used to a new role. Pearls of wisdom and support as always from my wife.

I’m not sure love, I have a bad feeling deep down in my gut and I think it would be wise to keep looking for other opportunities. A lame response but nevertheless a true one. Anyway, the agency guy said it was only for 3 to 4 months at most.

Yeh, you are probably right. Is that the evening paper you’re reading? She enquired, knowing full well that it was. No time like the present, you better get searching then. Was her comment, as she returned to the kitchen.

I enquired where the kids were, my seven-year-old son David and nine-year-old daughter Nicola. She replied, David is out front playing football and Nicola is next door playing with Kath.

The boys were always playing football on the small patch of grass immediately outside the house, where we could keep an eye on them. Only one of the neighbours objected but when his son joined in, the problem went away.

Jean shouted, I’m surprised you didn’t see David as you came in?

My mind had been on other things. I decided to go outside and join the kids in their game of football and take, what seemed like, the weight of the world off my shoulders. I enjoyed playing football with the children, their ages ranging from 5 to 7-year olds and it did the trick, bringing me back down to earth!

After tea and the children were tucked up in bed, I started to scour the jobs pages in the local papers, the Sunderland Echo and the Northern Echo, however, not a job in sight! This had been the same result night after night and it was becoming evident that I was not going to get a job locally and the best option would be to try and secure a job in another region. My wife and I had numerous conversations about what was needed to be done and eventually it was agreed that I continue trying to find a job on the Offshore production Platforms, despite being away for two weeks on and two weeks leave, it was considered the most suitable arrangement. We also agreed I should look for work abroad on a ‘married status’.

The latter proved to be undesirable. One opportunity was an engineer’s job in Salzburg, South Africa and my wife refused to go to a country that still practiced apartheid and that reflected my feelings also. The other, was working for the Saudi Arabian Government in Riyadh, situated more in the centre of the country, than where I had previously worked in the Eastern Province. Unfortunately, it entailed my having to work in the western part of the country for long periods away from my family who would be based in Riyadh, a situation I was not going to allow. The movement of women was very restricted and my family would be residing within a compound unable to move around freely. You would imagine that working for a Government with vast oil riches at its disposal, salaries for an ex-patriot engineering professional would be of a high standard but this was far from the case. The salary was below average and a lot below the salary I had whilst working in the Eastern Province, plus school fees for my children and accommodation were to be paid from my salary. It was a non-starter and so the job search continued.

The situation at the factory had not improved and with more than ten days having passed since I spoke to the Fabrication company, things were going downhill rapidly and no matter what I tried to do, it seemed to no avail. I decided to confide in the client’s two design engineers and suggested we try and use part of the company they worked for to carry out the fabrication and they agreed to discuss the issue with their management.

This proved to be too difficult for them, so back to square one. One afternoon the agency owner came to the factory unit and brought a design engineer who was working for him on the design of a chimney stack for the furnace. The design was complete along with the fabrication of the stack and the assembly was scheduled for delivery the following week, on a date agreed with the client’s design engineers. I was advised I had nothing to do, just to be on site when the chimney unit arrived to overview the installation. I quickly reminded them that the furnace, come firebox, was not yet fabricated, let alone installed. This didn’t seem to bother the client’s guys nor the agency design engineer.

When I had a moment alone with the agency engineer, I asked him how long he had been working on the project? He informed me he had spent over three months sorting the design and the fabrication. Over three months, and here I was being told four days before the thing was to be delivered! That sealed it for me, I needed out. The funny thing was, the installation turned out to be relatively simple and the task was completed within a few hours. Then in walked the client’s design boffins and one of them asks, Why does the chimney not have a cover over the top, you know a Chinese hat, to stop the weather getting in, such as rain? A simple question to which I had no answer. I needed to contact the bloke who designed it!

Maybe it is not high enough to warrant a Chinese hat, I offered.

Back in 1978, there wasn’t much political correctness, in fact it wasn’t in existence, things had a nickname which adequately described them and so the term was adopted globally with no offense to anyone. Not sure what the PC equivalent of a ‘Chinese hat’ is in today’s world.

I called the design engineer and instructed him to get on the blower to the client’s guys and give them an answer to their question. I explained the response I had given them to buy time and to my amazement I had been correct. The regulations for the requirement to install a top cover or if you prefer a ‘Chinese hat’ was dependant on the height of the chimney stack and this one was below the required height to necessitate the need for a top cover. So, it came to pass that no cover would be included, a decision the client’s design guys were not happy with. Just another brick in the wall. It also confirmed that I needed to make a sharp exit from this quagmire. I decided to make a final visit to the fabricating company to give them an ultimatum. Give me a start date for the fabrication of the firebox or I am going to pull the job and find another fabricator. A simple message and straight to the point with no ambiguity.

I hadn’t ‘phoned to say I was visiting the shop and so I was pleased to see both the fabrication shop supervisor and the owner on the premises. Well here goes, shit or bust!

Hi guys, nice to catch up with you again, was my opening gambit. I am pleased I have caught you both at the same time, it should allow us to come to some arrangement more quickly.

They looked at one another, then back to me without uttering a word. I was hoping they might give me some way in and advise me of any progress they had made to date. Chance would have been a fine thing! The owner looked at me with a puzzled look on his face as he enquired, Who are you again?

Bloody hell he had forgotten who I was, so much for an important client and I immediately realised this was not going to be an easy conversation. It didn’t surprise me he had forgotten who I was, considering the time they had ‘dillied and dallied’ about starting my job.

I replied, I’m the guy who has been waiting for nearly two weeks for an answer on when you intend starting the work for me, plus the extra week the other engineer who placed the order with you. In total it is nearly three weeks I’ve been waiting for some response and schedule for completion.

A look of concern came across the owner’s face, or what I considered to be concern, which I interpreted as him thinking he better get on to this issue straight away. No such luck.

Have you any idea how busy we are, we are trying our utmost to get your job done, you will just have to bear with us. He retorted in a condescending way.

My response was swift and to the point, You couldn’t even remember who I was, so how can you expect me to ‘bear with you’. No, I want a firm commitment that you will commence the fabrication this week or (wait for it), I will pull the job and find another fabricator. There, done, put that in your pipe and smoke it!

The response was, If that’s what you want to do, then go ahead, no skin off my nose.

This conversation was not going the way it was supposed to.

I replied, It is not what I want to do, I want a simple answer, honest and true, of when you consider you can start the work, is that too much to ask for?

Cannot say, he continued. We cannot just stop work for another customer to start yours it’s not ethical and we are so busy.

The word ethical seemed out of context somehow, and with what apparently was his final stance, I cancelled the order and went off to find another fabrication contractor.

I was in no mood to return to the office and I went for a wander with the fabrication drawings tucked under my arm. I needed to wake up from this nightmare, I pinched my arm, yes, it is real, no waking up and all will be resolved. I was pleased I didn’t have a razor blade handy or else who knows what I might have done. I had walked about two blocks around the industrial estate, head down, kicking stones ahead of me as I plodded the lonely trail. When I looked up, I saw to my amazement another fabrication shop, this had to be a dream! Gary, the engineer I replaced, had told me there were no more fabrication companies on the industrial estate and here I was looking at an ‘oasis in the desert’. I immediately walked into the yard and enquired the whereabouts of the manager from a forklift driver, busy moving items into a corner of the yard.

The gaffer is inside the office, on your right but before you go in ring the bell at the doorway and someone will come to collect you. Don’t want you gettin hurt, do we? No, we don’t.

I did as I was told and pushed the button to ring the bell but it was more of a buzzer which sounded loud in the shop area. Within a few seconds I was greeted by a member of staff, who later I was advised was the fabrication scheduler, whose task was to plan and schedule the work coming into the shop. It got better and better and I hoped these guys could accommodate my needs. I presented the somewhat dirty drawing to the gaffer with the scheduler lady close on his shoulder. I decided to come clean and explained I had been let down by another fabricator, not mentioning any names.

Well that would explain the state of the drawing and I could hazard a guess of who you are talkin aboot, a bunch of cowboys. said the gaffer.

This guy was just my kind of man and I took to him immediately. I told him I could get him new drawings if he needed them. Not having a clue where the original copies had come from.

He replied, Nay bother. Look, me and Rachel will tak a luk at these and give yah a bell, do you have a ‘phone number I can reach you on?

We exchanged ‘phone numbers and they told me it would be sometime tomorrow morning when they would get back to me. I didn’t have a firm commitment but what I had was something I hadn’t had since taking on the project, a happy feeling in my gut now. As good as their word, Rachel ‘phoned me the following morning and said they could do the work as they were due to finish a job ahead of time and could start my work in two days from then. I went up that morning to discuss their cost schedule. We agreed a price and signed a standard contract and sure enough the work was underway within two days. Something was happening at last and I was content in the thought that maybe I would be leaving the project soon on a happier note than I had envisaged. I advised the client’s design engineer about the fabrication having started and scheduled to be completed within ten days. I gave them a copy of the contract and they endorsed it, commenting it was about time some progress was made. I detected an undertone in his voice but did not place any importance to it, I was simply happy that I had achieved something for my own gratification.

I returned to my own little spot in the office and was greeted by Barry, the agency owner who was milling around in my spot. My immediate thought was, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, I sensed all was not well.

He greeted me, Hi Terry, how are things going your end?

I updated him on the fabrication and he seemed pleased but not overly pleased and I enquired, What’s the reason for your visit? Is everything good your end?

He explained he had a meeting arranged by the client’s designers and director to discuss a way forward. It all sounded a bit ominous but I thought it was probably a routine meeting and did not dwell on it, or the phrase ‘a way forward’.

No matter what happens I promise to see you alright. He said as he made his way to the meeting room in the other part of the unit block. What in the name of hell did he mean by that?

After an hour or so, Barry emerged from the meeting and ventured into my office looking forlorn and not his bubbly self.

We need to talk. Were his initial words.

Ok, fancy a coffee or anything, kettles just boiled? I offered but he waved his hand and sat down in the chair next to me and gave out a huge sigh.

He said, I’m not sure where to begin but we are where we are and there is no easy way to say this but they have withdrawn the contract from me to supply personnel. In a nutshell I am going to have to let you go.

There it was said and I was a bit confused to say the least. He started to confide in me and explained how he had put a lot of money into the project and had not had any return from the client, and he also advised he had to sell his pride and joy, a Ferrari car, to obtain some cash to cover his current commitments.

You mean you have lost a bunch of money on this project with little to show for it? Surely the client will pay for the outlay to date? I enquired.

He replied, Well actually it isn’t only this venture that is hurting me but a few others at Seal Sands development, have gone ‘tits up’ on me and I am afraid there is no money left in the pot!

Seal Sands was an area in Teesside, on the estuary to the river Tees under development, building numerous refineries and process plants to treat the oil and gas coming in from the Offshore production Platforms in the Southern North Sea oil reserves. I could understand Barry’s ambition to get a piece of the action. I was flabbergasted by his admission and felt sorry for the poor guy and couldn’t help but wonder how he intended paying my wages or if he could in fact pay for the month I had spent on the job. I was soon to find out.

When I leave here, I am going over to Seal Sands to tell a bunch of painters I cannot pay their wages for this week, not a task I am looking forward to. He concluded.

I could sympathise with that because some of these painters were big guys.

I meant what I said earlier about seeing you alright. He took out a wad of notes from his inside pocket and handed me the money owed minus twenty pounds of the amount due. It is twenty notes short, sorry but I am rationing what money I have left to try and honour what is due some people and I hope they are as understanding as you.

This will do fine, so do I leave right now or what? I asked.

Tidy up the paperwork and hand in what is relevant to the two design engineers next door, then you can go. At that, he stood up and we shook hands. I only wish we were parting on better terms but thanks for all you did to try and recover the fabrication end. It’s nice to know that it’s in progress at least, something to put a smile on the client’s faces, so all is not doom and gloom.

On that note, off he went to face the music at Seal Sands, God help him! I never knew how that went, but there were no reports of missing persons in the Teesside area and I could only hope he lived to fight another day.

I had an hour to kill before finishing work and bundled up all the correspondence, plus other paperwork and handed it over to the two designers. We shook hands and wished each other every success in the future and at that I left the building.

When I reached the door to exit for the last time I suggested, You might want to take a visit to the Fabricator’s shop to advise them of who they should contact when the job was done. That was my parting shot and off I went home, unemployed again.

I walked into the house and asked my wife how her day had been. She seemed to be contented with herself and immediately asked me the same question.

I replied, Well, good and bad really. I managed to get the fabrication going with a new and more reliable company, which was good, but the bad thing is I am once again well and truly unemployed as of today. Yep, a contrasting but an interesting time was had.

Jean sat down next to me and said, Maybe a good time to read these then. As she placed three letters into the palm of my hand. I could see by the post marks and the envelopes they were from the companies I had applied to for employment. I turned them over in my hands and read the post mark and company names over again until Jean brought me back to reality. Well, open them then, they won’t open themselves, she said, and so I did!

The first was an offer of interview with a company called William Press with offices in Darlington, not too far from Peterlee where we lived. Today was Friday and the interview was being held the following Tuesday, spot on I thought. The second was not so easy. It was a job interview with Foster Wheelers, a posting in Teheran the capital of Iran, with a date and time to be arranged by telephone. The interview was to take place in their office in Reading, in the district of London, so some planning was needed. Although the position would be abroad on single status, my wife and I had long debated the possibility of working away from home again, only if the other option was for me to be unemployed and on the dole. Which was not really an option we could accept despite what hardships it may bring.

The third was again an engineering position based in London, with the interview taking place the other side of London to the Reading offices. Certainly, some travel logistics to work out! The last offer was not really a one I relished if it meant I was to be based in London but my wife and I agreed I should go for the interview anyway, covering as many bases in the quest to find employment. On the same day I had been made redundant, I had received three interview opportunities which conjured up the saying ‘every cloud has a silver lining’. There was still a long way to go but I was heading in the right direction and I needed to stay positive.

That weekend we took the children to South Shields, a seaside town, mainly to visit the fun fair, however, we decided to go into the park first to see the pedal boats and the miniature steam railway which consisted of a model steam train which took people for rides around the park area. A ride was a must if you went into the park and we made our way to the miniature station to buy a ticket to board the next train. I looked around to find the ticket seller. I spotted the train driver with his greasy overalls and the obligatory oily rag hanging out of his overall pocket. I walked closer to him and to my amazement I realised it was Ben, the fabrication shop supervisor of the company that was ‘so’ busy. I couldn’t resist it and out I blurted, No wonder you can never finish any work at the fabrication shop if you are always down here messing about with your steam engines, you the driver then?

He looked up and this time there was instant recognition. He told me he was indeed the driver and started to apologise about the work he was supposed to do for me when I held up my hands and stopped him in his tracks so to speak.

I told him, All water under the bridge don’t beat yourself up about it, just make sure you keep this steam train on the track and on schedule.

I thought Ben might have let us ride for free but no such luck, we boarded the steam train and enjoyed the ride and the rest of the weekend because come Monday there was some serious travel plans to make.

CHAPTER 2

INTERVIEWS AND THE FALL

OF THE SHAH OF IRAN

August 1978 - October1978

In an attempt to attend all the interviews, I came to the conclusion that I could not travel by train, and attend both interviews in the same day, which was the only feasible mode of transport from Peterlee to London, so a cunning plan was required.

I decided to ‘phone my brother, Eddie, who lived in Newport Pagnell and worked in the City of London, to arrange for me to stay at his house for two nights and commute into London. From there I could get a train to the offices to attend the interviews, and Eddie agreed. I contacted the two companies and arranged for the interviews on the Thursday of that week, by which time I would have attended the interview in Darlington for the position of a Field Engineer on an Offshore Platform. Every time I thought about that possibility, I became excited thinking what a ‘coup’ if I could pull it off, however, I tried not to overreact in the event the ‘dream job’ didn’t come to fruition.

I was up bright and early on the Tuesday morning, the day of the interview and drove to Darlington in plenty of time to locate the offices of William Press. The journey was not a long one and I used the time in my car thinking of the potential questions they might ask, my mind was in overdrive, so much depended on my presenting myself in a good light. It was the one interview I didn’t want to mess up as I was envisaging a long career in the Petroleum industry, the industry of the time. I had had my fair experience of working in declining industries and I was expecting a long and challenging time in a progressive industry for a change.

I started my working life in the coal mines, after leaving school in 1963, where I received an apprenticeship as a mechanical fitter at the Seaham Colliery. The coal industry was very successful when I joined the National Coal Board, however, I could see the writing on the wall. Too much politics being played, which eventually led to the demise of coal as a source of energy, despite the fact other countries were investing in mining and the UK would soon be importing coal from these countries.

My time in the steel