By Gus Browning, printed in 73 Magazines in 1966-01 reprint by PA0ABM Gus Browning story, Part 09 Failed attempt. At the end of Chapter 8 I was on the island of Mahé with W0AIW, W0MAF, W0UQV and Harvey Brain, VQ9HB where we had all gathered for the purpose of going to either Agalega or Aldabra Islands. The boat had been chartered from Harvey. Plans had been made to have the boat ready for us to depart immediately upon our arrival from Mombassa. But the boat was a long way from being ready to leave, Some of us were at the point of wanting to go back to Mombassa because we discovered that it would be almost impossible to get the boat in condition to depart in a day or so. The boys had a rather tight schedule, as they had to return home by a certain day. As for me, I had no definite schedule, my problem being centered around money. After much talking and work we did get the boat in a more or less seaworthy condition. Harvey went to Temolgee's Store and bought the necessary things we would need. We loaded our equipment on board. The transmitter was strapped down in the hold on a small table and the *putt putt* (generator) was fastened down on the front of the deck* The cook stove was in the center of the deck with the two 50 gallon drums of petrol fastened down very near it . J Macan the cook had his big bag of rice, ole Doc had his deep sea fishing equipment, and Harvey had his black cat. We were as ready to go as we would ever be. Harvey maneuvered the ship very expertly through the maze of buoys and other obstacles between the short pier and the deep water of the channel Mike got his deep sea rod out and put a spinner on the line and let it out behind the boat some 150 or 200 feet. Macan got busy with his cooking on the open deck. Now let me tell you about that cook stove thing. Built up on the deck near the center of the deck was a spot covered with sand some 3 or 4 inches deep. In the middle of this box in a pile of sand were four metal rods with metal on top of them on which to set the pots and pans. The fuel used was pieces of wood that burned under the pans. This was what you might call a real open air stove. Of course when the fire was lit there were a lot of sparks and with the wind that was blowing, these sparks would fly everywhere. Now with two 50 gallon drums of petrol not too far away it certainly did make for interesting conversation. I told the fellows that it did not worry me at all, I said that I was just going to let my insurance company worry— there was no need for both of us to worry, I don't think this line of reasoning went too well with them though. We were headed for Agalega which back then would have been a 'new one'. Port Victoria faded in the distance. The seas were in a very fine mood with nice little swells with a sort of clockwork rhythm to them. The boat would rock from one side to the other and then the bow would go down and then the stern, I called this the Mahé Twist or the Seychelle Swing, It was a real soothing sort of thing, at least to me it was. Not having been to sea before and not having enough sense to know that such carrying on would maybe get the sea sickness bug started, I just sat back and enjoyed it all. For about the first three or so hours we were in the open channel and not too far away from land so we were shielded from the white caps of the open sea. When we approached the end of Mahé Island I could see all those pretty white caps on the deep sea beyond, I could see that things were going to get very interesting when we left the protection of the island and were out in the real ocean. AH this time Macan was busy cooking his rice and fish. You know, down there they let the head stay on the fish when they fry it and they fry it in some sort of oily oil which never cooks the fish to a brown color. In fact when it is completely cooked it is the same color that is was when first put in the frying pan I noticed that Doc was keeping one eye on the fish and the other on the sparks flying here and there. Well, there we were four land lubbers about to hit the open sea in a small boat about 50' long and about I2' across. It was basically a sailboat with a small diesel used generally for docking or when there was no wind at all It was a good seaworthy ship and Harvey a good captain. There were no conveniences of home on board. You slept down in the hold in swinging hammocks and there is the usual smell that exists in the hold of boats like this. The smell is a little fishy, a little diesel oil, a little kerosene and a little petrol. Then there is the smell of human beings mixed up with all these other smells, and, of course, a little black cat smell thrown in with all the others. But, you are on a DXpedition. When things are not going right and the situation is a little rough I always think of all the boys back home that are watching us and getting their rigs right, locking their front and back doors so they can safely run a good kilowatt without being bothered by the FCC walking in on them. You know the old saying, "the show must go on/* A few smells here and there are of small consequence— at least that's my opinion. We were heading for a good one— Agalega Island— and the quicker we got there the betted it suited me. I had had a sample of the thrills of being chased at Monaco, San Marino and Compione d'Italia and wanted some more of it. Of course we did some /MM work on the boat telling the fellows we were on our way. Along about this time we had arrived at the end of the island of Mahé and were now heading for the open sea. Remember I am writing this little chapter in August I965 and the trip to Agalega was in the month of August I959— that's six years ago, so some of the little highlights here and there may be forgotten since I don't have any of my notes with me here in 4X4 land. I am now operating now 4X5VB at what's called a kibutz. This is one of the community farms of 4X4 land. These farms here are run like a big family. This is a small one, only about 2,000 acres and about 260 adult workers, half male and half female* Everyone eats in the big dining room. There are about 4 families in each house. These houses are built long, like a motel back home and every family has about 3 rooms to use. They have a day nursery for the little ones and also a kindergarten and then grammar school. It is a good deal, but I doubt if they would work out in the States, The people in the kibutz can leave anytime they want to. Most of the people stay here all their lives, They have the security of knowing they have a roof over their heads, clothes to wear, plenty of good food, medical services and retirement when they become too old to work. Most of the people work only 6 hours or so each day. They have a swimming pool and all sorts of sporting facilities. I have heard or read somewhere that life on collective farms in some countries is not quite so pleasant and you cannot leave when you want to. That's not so here* If you are looking for lifetime security this is the place. I understand they have been running these for a long time, so they do work. So much for the kibutz. Let me ask you if any of you fellows have ever ridden a camel. I don't mean just to get on the back of one and let someone take your picture, No, I mean ride one for a whole day. We, Dick YA4A and I did this while we were up in Afghanistan because that was the only way to get to one of the places where we operated. To me it was not much fun— and we had to ride one back too. I see why they call one of them 'the ship of the desert'. You can get sort of sea sick with that swaying back and forth while they walk across all that sand. In the afternoon and I mean every afternoon about 4 pm the sand storms come up and the sand is flying for the next 2 or sometimes 3 hours. At that time vou are one of the nomads you have heard about. You can hardly see beyond the nose of your camel During these sandstorms I suppose the camels go more or less by instinct with their built -in radar systems guiding them. You should have seen Dick and I with our outfits on. We really looked like 2 shieks sitting on our camels. The radio equipment and 'putt putt' were strapped on 4 other camels. This is DXpeditioning the hard way. I think Dick and I have had it as far as this kind of DXpeditioning is concerned! But you know you are trying to put a rare prefix on the stir, and this is part of the game. We really did get to see many out of the way places in Afghanistan. Oh yes, we were in sight of UI8, UL7, and UM8. We checked up on the Kyber pass area and you know there is a neutral zone there, so we took this up with the ARRL. to see what the chances were for it being a new one. Also we are looking into this Kingdom of Swat business. Now that would be i dandy wouldn't it? When you run out of countries you have to make' em. Cokes in Afghanistan (I2 oz. cans) are 50 cents each! I controlled my desire as much as possible, only one can per day. There is a chance of a return trip to YA land if the ARRL makes either of the above spots a new one. Well, there you are, now back to the trip to Agalega. Here we were just leaving the island of Mahé behind us and entering the deep blue of the Indian Ocean and the SE Monsoon was just beginning to end. Everything had been going so smoothly and nice until we got a short distance from the shadow of the island —Bang, we were in it all of a sudden. Doc pulled in his trolling line and things were secured very quickly. You should have seen that Hi-Gain model I4 AVS swing. The salt spray was all over the place, Macan was fighting his fire under the cooking thing on the deck and needless to say those sparks were flying everywhere. Everyone was hanging on to something to keep from being blown overboard. Harvey was in his poop deck house and keeping the old tub under good control since this was nothing new to him. This tossing and pitching kept up from then on until we finally came back some 3 or so days later. Well, finally it got time to eat-after we had been tossing and pitching all this time, Since we are rice eaters in South Carolina, I told Macan to fix me up a plate of rice and fish. I noticed that Doc was keeping his eyes glued to that oily fish on my plate. When I told Macan the rice looked too dry, Macau put more gravy (gravy being oil) on top of my rice. Well, that's when Doc decided it was lime for hint to count the fish over the rail. Here I was sitting down right smack on the deck eating my fish and rice dinner. Doc came back from his little run to the rail and I said "Join me, Doc, the food is FB." While saying this I picked up the fish by its head and chomped down. A little oil dripped from my hand to the deck— well there went Doc again with his fish survey. Just before he departed he said to me "How can you, Gus?" During all this, Lee and Mac (AlW and UQV) were eyeing the happenings and even Mac was starling to get a little pink around the gills. Lee had everything under control pretty well though. As for me, I was hungry and enjoying a delicious fish and rice dinner. I believe the oil on the fish assists it in going down. Mineral oil for assistance is not needed if you eat Macan’s fried fish, they have the self- oiling feature built in already. If you want a good picture of one of these fried fish, you take the scales off a regular fish and dip it into some cooking oil, hold it up and take a good look and you will get a rough idea of those fried fish. The W0 boys from Kansas City probably had worked up themselves a good appetite watching me eat that fish, so they sent down to the hold and came up with various cans and can openers. But for some strange reason none of them had much of an appetite. As for me, I cranked up the “putt putt' and down to the hold and radio I went and called a CQ or two and worked probably W3CRA and W4TO. I even got a message through to the XYL— Peggy— that we were under way to Agalega. All day long it was solid overcast so Harvey could not take a bearing. I noticed that about one foot of water had accumulated in the bottom of the boat and was swishing around my ankles while I was operating the rig. I mentioned this to Harvey and he said he guessed that the old bilge pump on his diesel was not working again. I also mentioned that the toilet was not flushing either, Things were starting to get interesting you can see. We stopped using the toilet from then on and then we used the rope system where you tic one end of the rope to the bottom of the ship's mast and the other around your waist, and you sort of hang over the side of the ship and hope no snapping sharks happen to pass by, I asked Harvey what was the ship's position, Harvey got out his charts and maps and said by dead reckoning we would be about here— pointing his finger at a place located not too far north of Platt Island It was pitch black outside and with all the waves and wind making lots of noise I was sure that il we sneaked up on the island during the night we could not have heart I the waxes washing the shore. I said "Harvey, what will we do all night?" He said that he was going to let the boat drift. I said, "Harvey, suppose we are closer to the island than your dead reckoning indicates, man, we might wash ashore.” He said that this was not possible since the island was surrounded by a coral reef. You know these coral reels arc like a Stone walk ll s murder if a boat ploughs on to them, even worse than wrecking ashore on a nice beach. Harvey said he didn't think we would drift to the island during the night so we had nothing to worry about. We fired up the rig, had a number of QSO's and with wet feet from the hilge water washing up around our ankles, went to bed on the swaying hammocks in the hold* I got up a number of times and went top side and tried to peek into the darkness beyond the boat, but I couldn't see anything. Well, we did not drift on to the coral reef. Morning came and Harvey got a good shot of the sun when it was rising out of the water, grabbed his charts, and said Platt Island was over that-away and that we would see the island in two and one-half hours. Let me tell you Harvey was exactly right. The island ime in view exactly at the moment Harvey had mentioned. At first it looked like a small, flat dark thing way off in the distance. When we arrived at the island Harvey said he would have to search for the one spot where it's possible to slip through the coral reef. It seems as if every one of these islands has just one opening in their coral reefs, Harvey found the spot and by timing the ship's forward motion with the swells, glided through the small and shallow opening. Things were very nice and peaceful inside the reef No waves and crystal clear water. You could see the bottom of the lagoon and it looked only a few feet deep. Many colors of fish could be seen swimming around. Out came the fishing poles and we selected the ones we wanted to catch. We had fish for breakfast. Some of the crew jumped overboard for a swim, They dove down and brought up some beautiful coral, I asked them how deep it was and was surprised to find that Is was something like 30 feet. Well here we were at Platt Island on our way to Agalega, with the winds and waves getting a little rougher all the time. Finally we had a meeting with everyone present. From a health viewpoint things were not too good, with the toilet not working and the bilge pump not working and a good bit of water settling in the bottom of the hold. It was finally decided that if Harvey could get the toilet in good working order and the bilge pump working, we would continue on our way to Agalega. Upon opening up the toilet we found that we needed a lead ball about one inch in diameter. Well there was no such thing on board, but there was assorted pieces of lead that were sinkers for fishing lines. You should have seen Harvey and the boys melt lead on Macan's cook stove, A lead ball was cast using the sand as a mold that was under the stove. Let me tell you, they did a darn good job with that lead ball. With a little sanding and filing the lead ball was OK, installed to the toilet and boy, we had a toilet again. Next was the bilge pump. It was torn down and completely repacked with various bits and pieces of cloth, re-assembled and installed. It worked FB also. We spent the rest of the day installing a depth finder that the W0 boys had brought along to give to Harvey. We found that it worked very well and would even locate schools of fish. By this time the weather had gradually become worse, Getting back through that little opening in the coral reef was real tricky because this time we were inside. We waited until it was high tide and with Harvey at the wheel knowing all the tricks, we just slipped through with only about one foot of clearance between the bottom of his boat and the reef. We were off again to Agalega. But those waves and swells were a lot higher than before and seemed to be setting worse all the time. There was lots of pitching and twisting of the ship and the seasick prone fellows were really catching it now. Well, we continued on towards Agalega Island for about half a day longer. I will admit the wind was a little higher and one or two of the Kansas City boys were getting a little sicker so we had another talk about the prospects of our getting to Agalega. It was decided (against my strong protests) that it would be best for us to turn around and go back to Mahé. Our trip to Agalega was shot, Here we were only a few hundred miles from our island, a heck of a long way from the U.S.A., and we were giving up right when a little bit more 'toughening it out' would have put us on the island, I decided then and there that from then on I would be a lone wolf on any other DXpeditions, I have found that you have to have a great deal of patience, take some risks and be a little careless if you want to get to some of the more remote spots in the world. Things just don't go smoothly, at least for me. There is always something turning up that makes thinks look impossible nearly all the time. It seems like the Indian Ocean never does get really nice and smooth. We arrived back in Mahé and as far as I was concerned the trip was a complete failure. But I made up my mind that one of these days I was going to return and go to some island in that area and put it on the air. At least the trip, as far as we went, convinced me that I could take the rough seas and not be bothered by seasickness. Ole Gus a sailor! We operated VQ9A for a few days while QRX for the "State of Bombay" to arrive from Bombay to take us back to Mombassa. The return trip was uneventful We just sat on deck and watched the flying fish take off when the boat ran into a school of them. You know these flying fish can actually leave the water, take to the air and fly as far as 150 to 200 feet, getting up about 15 to 20 feet in the air. At times one would land on deck. Some seemed to be as large as 10 inches long, but usually the) are about 6 inches or so. We saw a whale or two in the distance come to the surface and blow, I had no idea I would ever see a whale doing just that. Each morning we saw a number of porpoises following the ship usually in groups of three or four. I had some long talks with one of the wireless operators on the boat. We soon started talking about things back in India, His home was Bombay and he had been living there all his life except while away on some ship as the wireless operator. The subject of what happens to those shiploads of wheat lhat is sent from the USA soon came up. He told me that he understood that this was supposed to be given to people who needed it to keep from starving to death. He said that he had never talked to or met anyone who had actually received any of this free wheat. He said things worked out like this: The wheat is shipped in bags of about 25 pounds each, with the usual handshake of Uncle Sam on each bag and a message saying something like "from the U.S.A." When the ship is unloaded all this wheat is taken to someone in the food business for distribution. At this distribution point the wheat is removed from these 25 pound sacks and put into bags of 2 pounds each— just plain hags, no hand shake or any other message is on these bags. Then they distribute them, hut not free. They are delivered to food stores and as far as he knew they were put on their shelves and sold like other things on the dealers' shelves. He said if any of this wheat was ever given to anyone, he had never heard about it. He asked me why we did not do something about it. Here we were practically giving away millions of dollars worth of wheat every month or two with practically no one ever benefiting from it and that the Russians would spend about one tenth the amount we did, but that they would put up a small hospital in some village with the words 'From your friends in the USSR' engraved in stone on the front of the building. He said the people believed what they saw, and this is what they saw! They did not see all this wheat that was sent to them, or at least when they saw it they did not recognize where it came from or who sent it. The above is the opinion of the fellow whom I talked with and not mine. Possibly it's true, possibly not, I suppose it would be interesting if all this was ever checked up on. Someone's eyes might really open if the truth were ever found out. I do know that in VU2 land a lot of manipulating and scheming takes place and it's not beyond possibility that something like this does actually happen. Well, we were back in Mombassa and as usual we had to spend a whole day there while QRX for the overnight train to Nairobi. Ole Doc handed me a fist full of money and asked me to go and buy a good assortment of weed carvings like I had previously bought— and at the same price I had paid Before I left Orangeburg, South Carolina I was passing the 5 and 10 cent store and they had a big sale on genuine plastic costume jewelry, Well I decided that being a sort of boss trader I would buy a little of this junk and take it with me, thinking possibly I could make a deal with some native somewhere along the way, I bought a big bag, spending a total of $ 15.00. I had completely forgotten that I had this stuff with me until I unpacked over in VQ9 land and found this bag of stuff down in the bottom of my suitcase. I decided I was going down to have another hassle with those natives over their carvings for Doc and that this was my chance to see if it was possible to do any 'hoss tradin' with them. I removed everything from my briefcase and dumped that genuine plastic jewelry into it and away I went to market clutching my little goldmine. Upon my arrival there I proceeded to turn my pants pockets inside out, saying I have no money to spend (Doc's money was in my coat pocket) but I said that perhaps we could do a little business. I told the young man to get two pieces of everything he had and to make a pile right there on the ground and let me look it all over and to give me his very cheapest price. Well he did just this and there was a pretty good pile of carvings there on the ground. A crowd had gathered to see this big business transaction take place. Well he gave me his price, and I gave him mine. He came down and I came up a little, we haggled and we haggled. Our prices were still a good bit apart so I said I would have to go around the corner and buy from the Indian shop. I walked away about 100 feet when he called me back. We argued and argued some more. Finally he froze and so did L I said that I was sorry we couldn't do business and that I was going back to my hotel for lunch, I shook hands with him and departed. I actually got into the lobby of the hotel— and there came a fellow running and said that I should come back, that they would sell at my price! I went back and he got three big boxes and carefully wrapped everything. When the boxes were all ready I said to him, "You are a good fellow and I want to do something for you, I opened up my briefcase and slowly pulled out a long plastic necklace and held it up. You should have heard the native YLs! I passed it around to the crowd and eventually put it back in my briefcase. I told the young man I would give him all the genuine plastic jewelry for another stack of carvings. He said he could not give me two of everything but just one of each item. I said no, no, no. I proceeded to explain to him that this was genuine plastic and not the cheap imitation that you could find anywhere at cheap prices. After more yakking and haggling he said he would do this for me. I started to hand him the money and the jewelry and I said, Wait a minute, we can't do business. (I had seen a BIG elephant carving under the table— he had only one of these and it was about 3 times as large as anything he had.) I pointed to this and said that if he would throw this in as backsheesh we could close the deal. I said that this was my final offer and that he could take it or leave it. After talking with his father, who had been standing on the sidelines during all this, he agreed and away we went to the hotel with 6 boxes of carvings. Good Ole Doc was completely satisfied and, to tell the truth, so was I. In a few hours we were on our way to Nairobi on the train, out through lion country. Upon arriving there I stayed with George VQ4AQ this time. I found that, at last, my equipment had arrived from Milan. Why it took a month to go there I never did fin I out. While attending to things, the Kansas City boys made a quick trip down to VQ1 land (Zanzibar) just as tourists. When they arrived back I had everything done and I took off for VQ1 the hard way, via African Bus through the jungle to Dar-es-Salaam, Now this was some trip. You ride an African Bus from Nairobi to Dar-es- Salaam and you will see what I mean. Monkeys, snakes, lions, elephants, zebras, gazelles, vultures, you name it, I saw it by the hundreds. It is a two-day trip, and rugged to say the least. Next month I will tell you about meeting VQ3PBD, good old Peter Dobs, and about operating in VQ1 land when it was a rare spot, I am still seeing the world and enjoying every minute of it too. This is country number 99 for me! I wonder if I will ever get to number 100— DXCC. Maybe I will, maybe I won't— who knows? Gus