Adventure
submitted by: H. Roice Nelson, Jr.
Rod Avenius was the geologist and senior explorationist on this West Africa trip. He had been the Exploration Manager in Nigeria during the Biafra War. Before this he had been in South America and had extensive collections of Meso-American artifacts. The war, like most wars, came up very quickly, and they had to escape by flying in helicopters over the soldiers, as the approached their compound, out to the offshore oil rigs. Rod lost all of the artifacts he had collected and which he had with him in Nigeria. Rod and I were charged with evaluating the Shell Oil Casablanch Farm-Out opportunity in Senegal, going to Mauritania to seek permission for the Ted Nelson, Mobil's new seismic ship, to collect seismic data offshore, and then to visit Mobil Producing Nigeria in Lagos. What a trip!
Dakar, Senegal is at the most western tip of Africa. It is a French city and much nicer than the British-based Lagos, in Nigeria. We spent a few days at Shell's offices remapping the seismic data and writing up recommendations regarding Mobil Farming-In on the opportunity. We did not give a strong recommendation and Mobil never did anything there. The first evening, we found ourselves on a pier eating in a kind of a bar. The waiter asked what I wanted to drink. I was told, have a beer, it is the only thing safe to drink in West Africa, and nobody will know. I replied, "I will know, and God will know." They were able to find me an orange Fanta. That was the last time I was given a hard time about living the Word of Wisdom on this trip. Another dinner included dancing by about 20 woman naked from the waist up. I took photos. The photos were not developed and the negatives not returned. I thought it was like looking at National Geographic images. Kodak obviously had more sensitivities.
The whole trip was interesting. We took a plane from Dakar, Senegal to Nouakchott, Mauritania. The excitement started as we approached to board the small plane. The pilot was an expat. As we climbed the stairs, a panel fell open, and all of the wiring fell out. There were sparks. The pilot stuffed everything back into the slot and closed up the panel. The seats were covered with gunny sacks, just liked we used for grain and for ground up byproducts from the stink plant. As we sat down, other passengers boarded, some caring chickens and other live animals. Then the plane took off. Some of the passengers pulled out some Sterno and started an open flame to cook their lunch. Rod and I were very glad when the plane arrived safely in Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania.
The local Mobil distributor met us and was our guide. Turns out we arrived Thursday night. Friday was Easter, and so we could not meet with the government officials until Monday. Even though Mauritania is mostly Moslem, they honor Christian holidays too. It was an excuse to get out of work. So there was nothing we could do for 3 days except hang out with our guide. It did not take long for him to show us all about the new capital. As I recall, the British built the Presidential Office, the Chinese built the roads, the Russians built the museums, the U.S. built the hospital, and in fact everything had been built by some other country. We went out to the seashore, where they had large fish cleaning tables. The smell was at least as bad as the stink plant. We were shown new cinder block homes. We were taken to an experimental farm, where they were growing crops. We saw a woman walking up out of a hole with a bottle of water on her head. I asked where the water came from. It was explained, this is why it experimental. The water was raw sewage from the city. Good fertilizer. That night at dinner we were invited to have some salad grown at this site. Rod and I both passed on the opportunity.
We also went to a youth basketball game a hundred miles out in the desert. I kept some bread from Sunday's dinner, and with a bottled water had my own private sacrament meeting on Easter Sunday. It was special. The government officials wanted bribes to let the Ted Nelson into territorial waters. We told them no thanks, and thus Mobil did not participate in recent deep water discoveries offshore Mauritania.
After meeting with the government officials, it was time get on our flight back to Dakar. We went to the airport to get our tickets changed, and they wanted a bribe. So Rod said, "No Thanks!" Neither of us thought the flight was very safe coming north to Nouakchott. The helicopters at the airport were being armed for the fight going on between Spanish Sahara and Morocco further to the north. We just wanted to get out of Mauritania, and so we took a cab back to Dakar. This was a 515 kilometer (320 mile cab ride), and not on a freeway. It was quite the ride.
We stopped at villages all along the way. People invited us into their homes. The first homes were mud homes, then stick homes then tree homes. The tree homes were closer to Indian Teepees than to houses we are used to. The people were very nice. I took a lot of very nice photos. Someday I hope to get them all scanned and on-line. When we got to the river between Mauritania and Senegal, there was no ferry. The river was as big, or bigger than, the Mississippi River at New Orleans. Our cab driver arranged for a long dugout canoe, made out of a single tree, to take us across the river. We sat in the canoe with our bags in front of us. As we approached the Senegal side of the river there was a beautiful woman in white flowing robes standing on a point waving to us. Turns out they do this to find a husband. When we finally got to the other side, there was another cab waiting for us. It was late at night when we finally got to the hotel in Dakar. It had been a very long day.
From Dakar, we took a flight to Lagos, Nigeria. In Lagos we had meetings with the exploration management. My assignment, after this trip, was to work for Mobil Producing Nigeria. I got prepped on the area and data I would be interpreting. Turns out I was going to be the first person to interpret the seismic data we collected when I was in Nigeria as a trainee on the Fred Moore seismic acquisition ship 2-years before. One of the things I was responsible for on the Fred Moore was downloading satellite location information and locating where we were. When I interpreted this data, I was able to show, tying the 2-D seismic sections to previously shot seismic data, the locations I collected on the Fred Moore were off, sometimes up to 2 kilometers. This gave me a real appreciation for the importance of knowing where data is located.
As I was leaving Lagos to catch the plane back to Dallas, I was given a tube of original sepia seismic sections. This was the only copy of the seismic data. I think Mobil got the seismic data on a trade. I was told it was more important the data get back to Dallas, than that I got back. I was naive. At the airport, I was immediately pulled aside by a giant Igbo soldier (6-foot 6-inches and 250-pounds). I was not about to let him have those sepia's. He ended up going through my wallet and taking every piece of any kind of currency I had. I kept the sepia's. Because of my earlier trip to Nigeria, I knew you had to have local cash to get your bags loaded on the plane. So when you go through customs, you declare you have no local cash, or you will be fined. Then you have to have cash or the stewards will not put your bag on the plane. I had already pulled out this cash and had it in my pocket, so I was still able to get myself and my bag and the roll of sepia's I was carrying on the plane to get out of Nigeria. What an experience! I am glad I was able to experience and work through all of this without my senses being dulled by alcohol.