Paramedic to the Prince: An American Paramedic's Account of Life Inside the Mysterious World of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia by Notestine Patrick (Tom)

Author:Notestine, Patrick (Tom) [Notestine, Patrick (Tom)]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Booksurge
Published: 2009-12-07T05:00:00+00:00

16

Malcolm

Prince Bader bought a yacht. He had it built in New Zealand for seven million dollars. It was 110 feet long, three decks high, nicely laid out with accommodation for 25 people, and could be run with a crew of five. The back deck was stepped down to the water line and had two air compressors to fill scuba tanks. Prince Bader has a lot of young sons, so they could now park their jet-skis and fill their tanks and dive in the Red Sea.

This brand new gleaming boat slid into the private dock behind the Crown Prince’s palace in Jeddah. It was moored alongside the majestic bulk of Al Yamamah and looked real elegant.

Prince Bader was anxious to impress his brother and invited him for an afternoon’s sailing. Two of us, the paramedics, went aboard first. The decks were smooth wood of the palest gold. The Captain, who was from Seattle, told us that this wood is unique to New Zealand and they are not allowed to export it. The only way to take it away is to buy something made there. Say, a yacht.

We waited in the ship’s lounge where fresh fruit, and pistachios, and so on, were set out for refreshment, should His Royal Highness desire a snack. Prince Bader hurried in to check on the effect. He started picking out pieces of fruit and tossing them into space, screaming, “This is Not Right!”

A white-robed minion scuttled in and replaced mangoes and re-adjusted the grapes.

The Crown Prince came on board and we sailed proudly into the Red Sea.

We were just fifteen minutes out of Jeddah when the boat swung about and returned to its moorings.

We tied up, and luncheon was served. The dining room seated only fifteen, so we shared the table with Prince Bader, Prince Sultan, our employer and a few of the advisors. Conversation was none too animated. We got off the boat.

This was something of an anti-climax. As soon as I could, I asked Dr Kaliq what had happened.

He whispered, “The Crown Prince didn’t like the little boat. It rocked too much.”

Prince Bader was quite upset. I think he was mortified and hurt. The Crown Prince was not interested in anything smaller than a ship, smooth as glass, and feelings were not mollified by the way he condescendingly called it, “The Little Boat.”

It was a beautiful vessel and personally would have been my choice.

Days later, I was sitting on the dock in the sunshine thinking I could do with some time off. I had been in Jeddah, working in an all-male environment, for weeks, and it was at least a month since I had seen a woman’s face. I stared up at Bader’s yacht. On the bridge I glimpsed a beautiful blonde. This was the Captain’s wife. She was kept out of sight of the guests, sequestered, unseen.

One reason I hadn’t had any time off was that we were a paramedic short. Chuck had had to go; he’d been drinking on duty while in Morocco.

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