The life of an expat (Ukázka, strana 99)

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Chapter 3 Indonesia 1974–1977

ufactured a copy of the re-entry visa stamp in collaboration with his friend’s immigration officer, and after he collected our passports, he stamped them and kept the money. One day, the Indonesian immigration changed the stamp color, but the two crooks got the news too late, and our pilot got arrested. He was released shortly after. Our visa-handling officer was fired and probably jailed.

All of us, 120 pilots and engineers, worked on a two-month- on and onemonth-off basis except for the management, who worked on a family basis. The management position was well paid, and the company provided housing and paid international school for the children. For us single guys, it was a paradise occurring only once in one’s lifetime! Working eight months per year and getting paid 12 tax-free salaries, airline tickets to and from Indonesia, accommodation, food, and travel within Indonesia paid by the company—working clothes and tooling provided by Pelita Air Service. We spend money only on drinks and girls.

Ian was a Scott, I believe, harsh, outspoken, noisy, and a good storyteller.

He was a leading Puma engineer and, together with another Britt, Andy, ran the Pelita technical department in the early 70s. Ian was an excellent practical organizer of outstations, and Andy was a technological administration man.

Against them were standing a couple of Dutch engineers, Eef and Hans, occupying the top positions. It was a Dutch company, after all. The power struggle was

Eef, the Dutch chief engineer in Jakarta

Bernard from Aerospatiale and Ian.

John and Irish John in the bar.

John was working hard in the jungle.

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quite evident; on one occasion, Ian punched Hans. Hans left the company shortly after that to make a great career with M.D. Helicopters in Mesa, Arizona.

John was a British electrician and avionics man who joined the company six months after me and fell sick almost immediately after he arrived in Jakarta.

He introduced himself in the office and was absent for about a week. One day during that week, after working hours, I went with our top management for a beer in a girlie place called Aquarius in Block M. We walked in, and the first thing we saw was sick John sitting in the bar with two young girls on his lap.

He always had a red complexion, but now, he was red. It was not exactly a good start to a new contract.

Meulaboh operation, Northwest Sumatra I started my first mission out of Jakarta, flying with Garuda Airlines to Medan with Curly, a very nice British pilot who flew the old British bomber aircraft Vulcan, Victor, and Valiant in his younger days. In Medan, we boarded a Puma helicopter and flew to the Meulaboh location on the Northwest side of Sumatera. Crossing the high mountains in Central Sumatra at high altitudes was challenging. Curly was a pilot in charge, and we had one Indonesian co-pilot and a mechanic.

Melaboh was a small town on the coast, and our camp was not far from the city, right on the beach. It was an easy operation, a 20-minute flight once a week.

I went up early in the morning with the sun and ran along the coast for one hour.

I quickly made friends with local fishermen. European people were quite exotic visitors to the area.

The fishing technique of these people was straightforward and efficient. They pulled the nets far out to see through the surf, using small boats, and then all the younger males from the village were pulling them in. It took them about one hour, and the number of fish varied in quantity and species. As a part of the exercise, I helped them, and they appreciated it. We could get a large stingray fish in the net, sand sharks, and many other fish of various sizes. The market people

Captain Curly with a girl in Jakarta.

Curly in Jakarta.

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Chapter 3 Indonesia 1974–1977

were waiting for the catch, and the fish was sold on the spot. The giant sting ray was in great demand, but before it was sold, the fishermen let it flap in the sand until it stopped moving. The poisonous stingers were cut out and buried deep in the sand. The sting ray has a very long and thin tail, and the fishing crew pulled it through his nose bores and tied it up, creating a handle for carrying the heavy fish.

One day, the crew chief came to me with a huge fish and gave it to me as a reward for my daily help.

Shrimps were another source of making a living, and these were dried in the sun on the beach. Our presence in Melaboh was quickly known, and local people came in droves to see the orang putih (white man). We were invited to local events, being guests of honor at the local wedding and visiting the local doctor’s family. Being an exotic blond man, I drew the attention of his two young daughters.

Once a week, a simple cinema was set up on the local football field, mainly showing Indian dramas with Chinese subtitles! Neither the locals nor we could understand; nevertheless, they attended in great numbers.

I continued my morning runs farther and farther away from the camp until I saw large paw imprints in the sand from the Sumatran tiger! Also, the locals grew more hostile after one of our pilots flew low along the beach and blew away in the sun-drying shrimps. It was better to stay closer to our camp.

Stingray.

Net fishing on Sumatra.

Sumatran tiger.

Dry shrimps.

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