Page 90 - Personal Column (Charles Belgrave)_Neat

better, were involved in misunderstandings. I remember taking someone night on board the ship, there was nothing else for it. Marjorie was lucky,
who thought he could speak Arabic to call on an Arab. After some talk she was given a cabin by Lady Woodhousc. The officers turned out of
the visitor said, ‘You have got a great many lice.’ The Arab replied, their quarters to provide accommodation tor the women and the men
very indignantly, ‘You arc mistaken, I have none.’ ‘Yes,’ said the visitor, slept somehow, somewhere. Some of the young people thought it great
‘I always see them when I come here.’ At this point I intervened and fun, it reminded them of the play The Middle Watch, but for the older
explained that the Englishman was referring to camels. The word for people it was rather a trying experience.
camels and lice is very similar. Dr Snow, the senior Government doctor, had a bad case in the
One of the Political Agents, in the early days, always assumed that Government Hospital which he did not want to leave, and I had an
none of the Arabs understood English. At an Arab party he said to his important meeting next morning with BAPCO representatives from
wife, ‘Darling, be careful what you cat, I am sure the plates and things are America about the revision of the oil royalty, so he and I and my son
not clean.’ The host’s son, a schoolboy, said to his father, in Arabic, ‘He decided to brave the sea and to go ashore. We scrambled down the gang­
tells his wife not to cat our food, does he think that we wish to poison way and with difficulty managed to jump on to the deck of the police
her?’ After that, conversation languished. Then there was the young man launch which was leaping up and down like a bucking pony. My Arab
who was acting as Political Agent who said to me, quite seriously, ‘I crew were experienced boatmen, and they took us safely through the inky
suppose I shall take precedence over the Shaikh.’ He was very surprised darkness and the towering seas to the pier, where we arrived after a terrific
when I said: ‘Good Heavens! Of course not!’ battering, soaked to the skin. The storm raged all that night and it was
Visits to ships could be adventurous expeditions. The Commandcr-in- not till the middle of the next day that the marooned cocktail party,
Chief, East Indies Squadron, used to come to Bahrain every year, usually rather bedraggled, were able to leave the ship in the tugs and heavy
in January, which is the roughest month of the year, and his programme launches of the oil company. After this affair the annual visits of the
always included a large cocktail party on board the flagship. In January Commander-in-Chief took place at a later, less stormy, time of the year.
1950 Admiral Sir Charles Woodhousc and his wife gave a party on the I do not wish to give the impression that life in Bahrain was ‘all beer
ship which was anchored a mile or two off the BAPCO pier, at Sitra on the and skittles’, or rather all cocktail parties and dinners. I had plenty of hard
east side of the island. Marjorie and I drove down to the pier. We looked work and plenty of problems to deal with, some of which caused me a
at the sea; it was calmer than I had ever known it, strangely calm in fact, great deal of worry. When I was first taken on I was designated ‘Financial
which should have been a warning to me, but which relieved Marjorie as Adviser’, but I was never known by this title in Bahrain, where I was
she had a particular aversion to sea trips in rough weather. We went out called just ‘Mustashar’—Adviser—which covered a great variety of duties.
to the ship in the police launch, a locally built dhow, fitted with engines, An Englishman once came to Bahrain and wanted to find me; he was an
serviceable but not showy. There was a gay scene on the deck. The Army chaplain of very unorthodox style who had been in the Royal
Marine Band was playing and about a hundred guests from shore, in flying Corps with my brother and had spent some years at Borstal—as a
their party clothes, were drinking cocktails and talking to the ship’s chaplain. He took a taxi and told the driver to drive to ‘Belgrave’s house’.
officers. The deck was closed in with canvas and decorated with flags. The taxi-driver said, ‘I will take you to the Mustashar.’ ‘No!’ said the
For some time all went well, then, without any warning, a terrific gale •; Englishman. ‘I don’t want Mr Shaw, I want Mr Belgrave.’ The taxi-
lashed the ship, ripping the canvas which enclosed the deck, tearing the driver again said: ‘Good. You want house of Mustashar.’ By this time my
flags into tatters and whirling the band music off the stands into the sea friend was getting annoyed, as he told me later. ‘Take me to Mr Belgrave,
like a giant paper chase. Dresses were tom, women’s hair stood up on or I will complain to the police,’’ he said. Again the taxi-man said, ‘Mus­
end and soon the waves were splashing on the sides of the deck. A few tashar, he is the police, we go and find him.’ He arrived at my house in
people who had left early managed to get ashore but wireless messages a state of excitement and greeted me with the question: ‘Who is this
from Sitra port, where the ship’s boats were waiting to bring off late­ ruddy fellow Mr Shaw, who the driver keeps on jabbering about? Have
comers and to take the guests away, reported that it was impossible to you changed your name to Shaw, like Lawrence?’
operate the boats. The guests had to resign themselves to spending the Dealing with the finances of the State was one of my principal duties,
164 165