Where's Sharawrah?: A Truck Driver's Adventure Across the Arabian Desert (eBook)

Saudi Arabia, here I come

“These three buttons on the dash engage the three diff-locks; here are the keys.”

The White Trux transport manager and I were in the cab of a Mercedes 2632 articulated vehicle that I was to drive at the start of a new job in Saudi Arabia. That was it! He then got out of the cab and made his way back to the office, saying over his shoulder, “Don’t forget to give it a thorough service and check all the oil levels.”

This was my first day in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. It was midday in the middle of summer. The sun was blazing down and it felt like being in an oven. With no shade anywhere, I just wilted, unable to think clearly or do anything.

“What on earth am I doing here,” I thought. “Now what have I let myself in for?”

The day before arriving in Jeddah I had been at my home in Maidstone, Kent, enjoying a very pleasant sunny day in June. A couple of weeks before, I had read an advertisement in the local paper asking for lorry drivers to work in Saudi Arabia. The job sounded interesting – three months working in Saudi then one month off at home. It was summer 1978 and with the pay at £150 a week plus trip money, and tax free, this promised to reward me much more than my present job. So I phoned the company, White Trux, and was given a time and day for an interview.

I arrived on time to meet Mr. Michael White, the managing director, in his transport yard office near Canterbury. At the interview I was asked what driving experience I had, and my clean HGV One driving license was checked.

I told Mr. White of my three years in the Army with the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers as a recovery mechanic driving a Scammel recovery truck, or sometimes a Diamond “T” tank transporter. One of these towing a 32-wheeled trailer loaded with a 72 ton Conquer tank would have a gross weight of 120 tons. The Diamond “T” only did a maximum of 25mph, and the 24 gears with two gear sticks made it tricky to drive, when fully loaded.

I left the Army aged 21 and in 1959 joined National Benzole delivering fuel to garages in South East London and Kent. In that job I drove all makes of road tanker from small Dennis four wheelers up to their biggest, a 28 ton Leyland or an AEC eight wheelers. I left National Benzole when they moved too far away to Northfleet, and after that worked for three years as an insurance agent. My father had an insurance brokerage business, and hoped I would carry on in the firm. However office work was not for me, I liked the open road.

Then I heard of a job with Asian Transport. Bob Paul took me on as their first driver in a brand new AEC Mark 5 Mammoth Major and trailer. I did seven years from 1966 to 1973 with Astran, as they were renamed, driving mostly to Tehran in Iran. In 1970, I was the first English driver in a Scania 110 to take a load to Doha, Qatar. The truck and trailer had a full load of telephone equipment, cables, crates and plastic ducting tubes. At that time Qatar had no telephones at all. The first delivery by ship had taken two months and most of the delivery was so badly damaged it was unusable. My trip took only two weeks and there was no damage at all. I was rather proud of that achievement.

Five years of European work followed after I left Astran, but the pull was there to go back to the Middle East again. I was very pleased to be getting the job with White Trux. I next had to arrange to get a visa and a work permit for Saudi Arabia. Then I had to have the necessary injections before leaving. When that was all done I was given a one-way airline ticket. Before I knew it, I was on an uneventful flight to Jeddah. At Jeddah airport I was met by a White Trux driver and driven in a jeep to their villa. This was situated on the outskirts of town, about three kilometres from the centre where the shops and marketplace were. Within an hour of arriving at the villa to say hello to everyone I was taken outside and shown this big 6 x 6 Mercedes truck. The midday sun blazed down, and I roasted in my long trousers and shirt. It was so hot.

As I had a look round the Mercedes, the first things to stand out were the big sand tyres which made the whole truck look bigger and much higher off the ground. There was only a day cab to live in on long trips, but the cab was over six foot wide with a bench seat on the passenger side. This was sufficient to sleep across if you moved the gear stick. The radio cassette player worked well, which was to prove a godsend.

White Trux desert Merc in local paper

Behind the cab was a full width storage box giving lots of room for straps, ropes, jack and tools etc. On top of that was a 150 litre fuel tank so giving 450 litres total with the main fuel tank. All in all, the truck was longer than the average articulated unit and certainly a good tool for the job.

I found a grease gun in the mechanic’s store and made a start with greasing the steering, prop shaft and any other grease nipples I could find. Any metal was too hot to touch, so I needed gloves. At least underneath the truck I had a little shade. Within a couple of minutes I needed a break, but every time I stopped to sit by a wall, just as in the Army, there would be a shout.

“Oi, Pearce, get on with it!”

In the relentless sun I wished I had a hat and, being fair skinned, I wanted to avoid getting sunburn. It did not take too long to check the oil and water and to add distilled water to top up the big batteries. Lastly I smeared grease on the 5th wheel and she was ready for the road.

The other lads were used to the hot weather, but for me that first day was a blinder. It took me a couple of weeks to get more used to the heat of the day. It got up to 120° Fahrenheit in the shade by mid-afternoon. One of the lads got an egg from the kitchen and cracked it open on the roof of his truck. Yes, you can fry an egg on a scorching hot cab roof. None of us fancied eating it though!

What I never got used to were the flies. All day long they sought after the moisture by your mouth and eyes. At least the flies go to sleep at night, though. Maybe they have no night vision or are just tired. As evening approaches the flies leave off. Peace at last? No, the mosquitoes take over, and they bite. Trying to sleep at night in the villa there was always at least one buzzing about. How can a small insect make so much noise? It keeps you awake and you wonder, “Is it a male, or a female?” It’s the females that bite! When it stops buzzing, you worry, “Where is it?” Despite having a sheet over you it is inevitable to get bitten a few times each night. To have an evening shower is asking to get bitten even more, which is an off-putter. You seem to get bitten much less after not washing for two or three days! Mosquitoes don’t like to work too hard in the heat either.

Sleeping arrangements were any empty bed you could find. It did get a little cooler after two in the morning, but given the choice it was cooler to sleep in the cab of the truck, as long as the engine had cooled right down.

About once a month a man came round with a big tank on his back. By pumping a handle at his side, a fine mist was sprayed from a pipe with a nozzle into all the rooms. It killed all the insects and supposedly their larvae. The place would be mosquito free for a day if you could put up with the horrible smell! The cockroaches didn’t like it much either!

In the basement there was a 10’ square concrete room that was used as a cold water storage. When the level got low a big tanker was ordered and with a hose across the pavement into a small aperture in the wall, about 10,000 litres of water filled the place to a depth of four feet. It must have cost a fortune to fill, as a two litre bottle of water cost a pound. Maybe it was not pure drinking water. At least it helped a little to keep the place cool, but I never trusted it to drink. It was much safer to drink bottled water or Pepsi to be on the safe side. Water sold at 50 pence a litre but diesel fuel cost about two pence a litre. I worked it out that a 2000 kilometre journey to Riyadh, there and back, cost less than £20 in diesel fuel.

Breakfast was local bread and jam, no chance of a bacon sandwich in a Muslim country! The evening offered a variety of meals. Sometimes chicken and rice, or you could have rice and chicken. The supermarket in town had a good choice of food and actually it was not all that bad. We took turns at the cooking, so some meals were better than others. Usually meat and veg all in one pot commonly known by drivers as Camion Stew (or spew after having too many beers)! With never more than two or three drivers in the villa at any one time, it took quite a time just to meet them all. I was told that there was always plenty of work to do as the docks were overflowing with goods from all over the world.

Behind the villa there was plenty of open ground to park the trucks and trailers. The next two blocks in our road were walled-off waste ground, so there was lots of parking space in the roads dividing the blocks. Just behind the villa a lean-to was the mechanic’s store. All work on the vehicles was done in the open, mostly oil changes and a bit of welding. Because of the extra weight often put on the trailers, the springs needed attention more often with a broken leaf or two.

With the other drivers in Jeddah (me in the red jacket)

The tyres were changed when too much steel binding showed; there were no rules to say otherwise. Apart from my Mercedes truck there were six Volvo F88s which were very reliable and nine trailers. One three-axle trailer had a steel floor which could gross 60 tons,...