Dhahran Diary®

Title: Arabian Gulf- Chance Encounter

DD17

I know that life in Dhahran was more tolerable because of the gulf. As an expatriate dependent in the late 1940s, one had to seize upon any opportunity for diversion. ARAMCO's recreation department did a good job in camp but the gulf was a big draw too.

We went to either Al Azzaziyah beach or Half Moon bay. Once in a while, we went to Ras Tanura but it was forty kilometers away and the camp busses were not air conditioned then. Just after WWII, ARAMCO employed a large contingent of Italians. They lived in a tent city at Al Azzaziyah and worked in Dhahran; we loved to go out there and buy whatever crafts and trinkets these men had to sell. This village was closer to Thuqba, then about six or eight barasti (palm frond construction) homes a kilo west of Al Khobar. Thuqba was the landmark for the Al Azzaziyah beach turn-off. There was no road, just a few tracks in heavy sand.

The sand bars which reached into the gulf afforded a shallow where one could sit submerged to the neck some distance from shore. It was a treat to sit in a circle and converse. At night the water showed phosphorous-like glitters when you waved your hands back and forth quickly. As Saudis began to acquire cars, they would bring their families to the shore and spend leisure time, always far removed from westerners. They would park near the water, open the doors on the water side and then using poles and lines, they would erect cloth modesty barriers to keep privacy. The women and children would then wade out beyond the enclosure while dad watched over the flock, usually from the front seat. The women wore dresses and some of the children did too.

Early one Friday morning, a fog bank hung over Al Azzaziyah spit. We were water skiing that morning. I think it was a scout outing. The sun was trying to burn through as we got the boat in the water. I had never skied in fog. What a thrill, if not a danger! We stayed in sight of shore and trolled back and forth for about a hour, taking turns, and crossing over each other's wake. We thought this was big stuff. The beach was deserted. On one of my turns, the sun broke through and the fog created a bank that we could ski back and forth through. It was quite a sensation to feel the water droplets against your skin one moment and the next to have to sun's rays dry your skin in just a few seconds. The fog bank retreated toward the end of the spit and the driver chased it, s-turning back and forth through the aqueous curtain. The water was an aquamarine mirror.

We sped toward the tip of the spit, maybe 40 feet from shore on a parallel course. All of a sudden, out of the gloom appeared a car parked at the water's edge. Bathers were in the water; you could just see their heads, maybe six or seven people. Our driver veered left and we flashed by them in a second or two. Parties on both sides were surprised! I saw the bearded Saudi sitting in the car with his mouth open. We waved as we flashed by and the women and children stood and waved before the realization of the situation hit them. It was such an incredible chance encounter, half-naked westerners scooting over the top of the water within ten or fifteen feet of Saudi women with wet clothing plastered against their skin. The husband or father shot out of the car and began yelling for them to come in (I think). He was gesturing wildly and as we reversed course; he tried desperately to get the women out of sight. They labored through the water in long frocks and he jumped up and down at the water's edge spurring them on. We flashed by a second time and disappeared up the beach.

I can only wonder what those Saudis must have thought. One instant peace and serenity and the next a towering breach of social etiquette as two cultures came together in a most unexpected way. That accidental meeting probably took less than 30 seconds and yet, fifty years later, I can still recall this chance encounter vividly.

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