Drills were buzzing, hammers pounding, and workers were rushing hither and thither putting the final touches to the stands. Although the exhibit was to open officially later in the day, it looked as though it was going to be touch and go. But at seven o’clock that evening when Minister of Merchant Marine Emmanuel Kefaloyannis cut the ribbon and the gathered crowds surged into the terminus, all was in order, and the sixth and largest to date Posidonia exhibition was launched under the auspices of the Ministry of Mercantile Marine, the Union of Greek Shipowners, the Greek Chamber of Shipping, the Association of Shipowners of Greek Passenger Ships and the Greek Shipping Cooperation Committee.
The far-flung shipping fraternity had sailed in from London, New York and other parts of the world to scrutinize the promotional gambits of six hundred firms from thirty-four countries offering anything conceivably related to shipping: from finance and insurance to nuts, bolts, deck paints, wines and spirits, and French crystalware (presumably for the first class dining rooms of The Association of Shipowners of Greek Passenger Ships). In the light of oil-spill disasters, pollution control received considerable attention: Canada’s ”Zoom Boom” or Tanker Pak promises to control oil spills while Sweden’s”Sandvik Piranha Sea Cleaning System” will remove from the sea oil, floating objects (including jelly fish) without chemical pollutants. Twelve countries had national stands: Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Finland, France, Great Britain, Japan, Netherlands, Norway, Singapore, Sweden and West Germany. Firms from Hong Kong, Kuwait, Portugal, Taiwan, and Uruguay were participating for the first time.
Asked if the exhibition generated business for his firm, one executive shook his head negatively, adding that it was inconceivable for them, however, not to participate. Greece is third, after Liberia and Japan, in world tonnage, and first if Greek-owned ships flying foreign flags of convenience are included. In brief, the Posidonia provides the international maritime industry with the opportunity to set out its stall “on the doorstep of what is probably the largest market in the world” as the press releases noted. As the week progressed, the shipping fraternity combined business with pleasure, renewing acquaintances, and enjoying the festivities — leading one New York based Greek shipowner to call it “Whiskeydonia”.
That the week was not restricted to entertainment was particularily apparent at the Forum, held on the Friday in the auditorium of the Eugenidis Planetarium in Athens. The meeting was addressed by Jens Evensen, the Norwegian Minister to the Law of the Sea Conference; John M. Murphy, Chairman of the Committee on Merchant Marine and Fisheries of the U.S. House of Representatives; Henry Chester, Leading Lloyd’s Marine Underwriter; and Peter S. Douglas, Senior Shipping Economist for the Chase Manhattan Bank. They addressed themselves to various facets of the industry and in the process set off some minor squalls. Mr. Chester observed that the insurance industry had been suffering in recent years because of the number of major claims, especially by older vessels. The Greek vessels, he stated, were the worst offenders. Representative Murphy, talking about the decline of American shipping in the last twenty-five years, called for a more competitive and fair market. In reply, Mr. Chandris noted that seamen in poorer countries are willing to take to the seas for longer periods and at lower wages. (There was, however, no one on hand.to speak for the seamen.) By the week’s end, the shipping fraternity had weighed anchor and sailed off to their home ports.
Automania
WE broke a cardinal rule recently and accepted a lift to Kifissia from our old friend Kyrios Stelios. During contemplative hours at the backgammon board, or while audibly sipping coffee at his favourite sweet shop, discoursing on affairs of state, and pensively fingering his worry beads, our old friend looks so Olympian and omniscient that he’ deserves to be mounted on a pedestal outside the University of Athens along with our ancient philosophers. Seated behind the wheel of his car, however, he undergoes an extraordinary transformation, and belongs outside the National Historical Museum with the old warrior Kolokotronis who stands immortalized in bronze and mounted on a steed, ready to charge the ranks of the enemy.
With some trepidation, we made our way to his car and waited silently on the curb while he went about the business of removing the enormous, grey tarpaulin that shrouds the vehicle in his absence. protecting it from rain, sun, wind, dogs, and people. He next began to carefully remove the layers of newspapers draped across the seats and windshield to insulate them against the hot sun. Depositing them neatly folded into the back seat, he quickly retreated to the trunk where he located a gaily-coloured feather duster. With sweeping strokes, he meticulously removed any dust particles that had penetrated the tarpaulin, then stood back to admire the results. The vehicle stood gleaming in the sunlight, with only the odd scratch and dent to testify to the many battles it had seen.
We climbed in and discreetly reached for the seat belt but with a disdainful look our friend indicated it was not necessary. We weren’t about to challenge him as he donned a fierce expression, vigourously turned on the ignition, and snarled with satisfaction as the motor responded with a thunderous and prolonged roar. Grinding abruptly into first gear, he shot forward, colliding into the car parked in front. Without a flinch, he reared into the car in back, dismounted the sidewalk, and deftly manoeuvered into the path of an oncoming car. While shouting carefully-chosen obscenities, he bolted out of the car, leaving us behind to witness his heated exchange with the other driver who had taken the precaution of raising his window and locking his door. It was some time before we, and the other cars that had lined up in both directions, were able to disentangle ourselves, and resume our journey.
Roaring around Kolonaki Square, Kyrios Stelios darted in and out of all lanes with abandon, avoiding other vehicles with the skill of a toreador. Halting at an intersection amidst a chorus of blaring horns and noting that the nearest policeman was otherwise occupied, he activated his musical horn which unleashed a raucous rendition of “Mary Had a Little Lamb”. As the light turned green, he dutifully turned on the right-hand turn signal, made a sharp left turn from the far right lane, and entered the middle left lane of Vassilisis Sofias Boulevard. We held our breath while he skilfully avoided the oncoming traffic and jockeyed his way into the row of cars going in our direction. At the Hilton intersection he came to a sudden halt at a red light with an alert policeman on guard next to it, the jolt propelling into the front seat a colourfully – crocheted pillow from its place in the back window. At Floca’s on Kifissias Boulevard, he rapidly assessed the situation and shot through another red light, bearing down hard on the accelerator until we were out of earshot of the policeman’s whistle.
At the next intersection he came to a reluctant stop behind an impenetrable line of immobile vehicles, and placed his hand above the horn, poised in readiness. A few seconds before the light changed, he executed a succession of deafening honks which absorbed his attention so fully that he forgot to shift into first gear. After a few hesitant chugs, the motor stalled to a crescendo of honks behind us. Pausing only to deliver a selection of gestures and leers at the other drivers, he quickly re-engaged the car and soared forward, artfully weaving his way in and out of the lanes of traffic until we passed Halandri.
With a clear stretch ahead, Kyrios Stelios was able to relax. Leaving the wheel to its own devices, he searched through the glove compartment for his matches, and lit his cigarette. Peering at us intently through a cloud of smoke, he launched into a discourse which we were unable to follow because our attention was glued to the car a few feet in front of us which we were precariously tail-gating. It and several stray pedestrians and cats got out of our way and Kyrios Stelios began to wrestle with a stubborn ashtray. Finally dislodging it with a sharp tug, he flung the contents out of the window where they flew into the windshield of the car trailing behind us. Before the other driver could respond we turned off the road in a wide, graceful arch that terminated in a roadside ditch. Without a murmur or a glance over his shoulder, Kyrios Stelios threw the car into reverse just missing a woman who had recklessly crossed the road behind us.
Resuming a course along the middle of the road, and noting a slight downward slope,our old friend reached over and turned off the ignition. As we careened along in response to the force of gravity, he explained that this was a petrol saving device. Reaching an incline, he turned on the motor once more, speeding up when he spotted an elderly pedestrian trying to sneak across the road a block away. Despite her advanced years, she was rather agile and to Kyrios Stelios’s visible annoyance made it safely across. Arriving at our destination, he navigated the car to a careful standstill several feet from the curb. Looking calm and beatific, our old friend began the ritual of replacing the newspapers and tenderly rewrapping the vehicle. We tactfully told him that due to a previous commitment, we would not be able to accept his offer of a lift back to Athens.
An Inauguration
THE inauguration of a new international flight usually heralds something more than another addition to the airline timetable. Such was the case at the International Terminal of Ellinikon Airport on June 2 where officials of Saudia and their guests were awaiting the arrival of the airline’s first direct flight from Jeddah. Nowadays in Athens, hardly a day goes by that one doesn’t meet a friend who has just returned from “The Kingdom” or is about to take off for it. The occasion, it seemed to us, was a milestone of sorts, marking this significant increase of movement between our countries — and the growing activity of our businessmen mindful of all those petrol dollars — which has generated the need for several flights each week nonstop to Jeddah and Riyadh, and direct to Dharan. When we arrived at the airport, the flight had landed and the passengers disembarked. We moved to a window to watch a red carpet being rolled out in front of the first class exit. The pilots and stewardesses descended as television cameras rolled, pictures were taken, and various presentations were made followed by much congenial handshaking all around.
After a brief tour on board the craft, we returned to a press luncheon in the lounge where we met Mr. M. Al-Hassoun, Vice-President in charge of Marketing, Hisham Shobokshi, Regional General Manager for Europe and North America, and Saudia’s “Man in Athens”, Abdulkaner Jastaniah, who told us about the airline and the Arab Kingdom itself. Saudia was started in 1945 when King Abdulaziz Bin Abdulrahman ΑΙ-Faisal Al-Saud (Ibn Saud) accepted the gift of a Dakota DC-3 from Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Acquiring two more DC-3S, the founder of Saudi Arabia established the airline which has since grown by leaps and bounds and now has the latest in jet-age technology, flies into forty-eight cities in the world, is the largest in the Middle East, and according to IATA had the largest rate of growth of any airline in 1976. During the Hajj, the annual period set aside for pilgrimage to the holy cities of Mecca and Medina which this year begins in August, the airline carries out a massive airlift of pilgrims (Hajji) who travel from all over the world to Saudi Arabia to fulfill this Muslim religious obligation.
On the way back to the city, we glanced through an article on the history of travel in Saudi Arabia and were pleased to see that, Jet Age or not, the camel has not been forgotten and, in fact, receives due tribute for its contribution before the advent of technology. The camel (“docile, parsimonious, enduring”) is still indispensible in remote, impenetrable areas. The first automobile to leave its tracks on the desert sands of the country with the world’s largest oil reserves was a Model Τ Ford. It was acquired in the 1920s by the last Grand Sharif, Hussain ibn Ali, and was used for ceremonial occasions.
