Way back in my pre-teens, in the days before “now that’s what I call Music” compilation albums, there used to be a series called “Top of the poppers”, generally found in the cheap bins in Woolys. Today, we’d call them cover versions, but they were more like full blown impersonations, intended to sound as close as possible to the original record. They achieved this with varying degrees of success, & sometimes abject failure. The albums never mentioned the name of the artist, or indeed any artist.

Our local Odeon had one of these for interval music with Booker T’s “Time is Tight”, which whilst a passable imitation didn’t have the flair or gut wrenching Leslie work of the original.

Anyway, I thought that these cheesy copies had gone the way of spangles and Ski yoghurt pots, but I was surprised to find ASDA selling triple themed CDs for £4.72 (or some equally odd amount). I bought one, not actually realising it was session musicians, as the artists were actually listed. However on playing it, I realised it was a clone fairly quickly and on examining the sleev, noticed it said “as made famous by” abouve the artist. Trouble is, you get compilation albums free with papers, so the actual worth of the real tracks must be pence. As P.T. Barnum said, “there’s a sucker born every minute” and I fell for it. This way to the egress…

So, what was it like working abroad? I cannot speak for today but back in 1981, Norway was a pleasant country with a small population (ISTR 4m Norwegians), well educated, with a high standard of living but somewhat socialist. There was practically no unemployment (the people who didn’t have jobs didn’t want one) but the State ruled supreme. There was one TV channel, one monopoly phone company (Televerket), a State Bank (DNC, Det Norske Creditt), a State Oil Company (StatOil) & a State Off License (The Vinmonopol). There were other Companies in most of these markets as well, apart from the Booze. It didn’t have a State airline but it was a partner in SAS, the Scandinavian Airlines System (with Denmark and Sweden).

Norway was traditionally a sea-faring nation and was the home of the Vikings. It was interesting to find that several Norwegian words had made it (corrupted) into the Geordie dialect, the north East coast being handy for the marauding longboats. Some good examples of this were:- children: Barn in Norsk, Bairn in Geordie, as well as Jumper: Genser in Norsk, Ganzie in Geordie and House: Hus in Norsk, Hoose in Geordie (All pronounced similarly regardless of spelling).

I quickly realised that the TV was pretty awful- the highlights of my week being screenings of “Mash” and “Soap”. Most Norwegians spoke English so films were sub-titled rather than dubbed. The flicks provided a welcome distraction, although they tended to ride the faders so that the music was thumping but the dialogue was restrained.

Although somewhat puritanical about the demon drink (having a strong Lutheran Christian tradition) they were much less hung up about sex, but not quite as broad minded as I found the Danes and Swedish to be in later years. I can remember being picked up a handful of times by real lookers during the year (but generally dumped again just as quickly!)

Stavanger was both a port and a boom town due to the north sea oil. Mobil had three platforms planned for the Statfjord field, Alpha being in production from 1979, Bravo being built and Charlie on the drawing boards. My role was for the onshore network, although I did have a fascinating opportunity to go offshore.

When I arrived in Norway, Statfjord Bravo actually sat in the mouth of Stavanger harbour on four concrete caissons undergoing construction. Meanwhile, the legs of the rig were being constructed in the fjord at the bottom of my road. The legs were hollow concrete tubes nearly 1000’ high and at the base of them were a number of large concrete tanks forming a pedestal. (The tanks were used for storing the oil between tanker dockings).

During the Spring, the rig was essentially complete structurally and it was time to take it out. The tanks at the base of the legs were partially flooded so that they sunk down to the desired level & the structure was towed out to another really deep fjord further north, complete with cranes. Meanwhile, the platform itself was floated clear of the caissons on two massive barges and towed off to be mated with the legs. Once successfully joined together, the whole assembly was towed out to sea and sunk down so that the pedestal rested on the sea bed. Some idea of the scale of this beast can be found here, courtesy of Statoil.

It was very strange seeing it gone, as well as the giant toilet roll tubes from the flat window. The twinkle of lights around both structures were surprisingly satisfying & they were certainly missed until “C” construction started a couple of years later.

A few months later, I was asked if I’d like to do a software upgrade to the phone system on Statfjord B and I jumped at the chance. I had to go on some basic safety training first but because I was only going for 24 hours I didn’t have to undertake the survival course (which involved being dumped in the fjord in a survival suit). Armed with my upgrade tapes, I flew up to Bergen and reported to the Helicopter desk. Here, I was suited up (in a bright orange garment not unlike a made-to-measure duvet with hoodie), weighed (complete with baggage for an overnight stay), briefed and then myself and fellow passengers waddled off to the Chopper like a procession of fluorescent Michelin men. The Helicopter was a russian Sikorski which seated about 16 people, apparently the Sikorskis had a slightly better (but still dodgy) safety record than the Bell rangers also used.

The helicopter took off like a regular plane, hovering slightly above the taxiway, then after being cleared for takeoff, it adopted a glide path that a prop plane would follow, climbing gently as it cleared the runway. Once over the sea, it then took two hours of tedium before reaching the oil fields. Helicopters that size are incredibly noisy, even with ear defenders, the drone rattles you to your bones.

Eventually, we started to see rigs and the familiar sight of “B” came into view. We landed on the “flotel”, the floating hotel tethered to the rig and joined by an iron staircase & a sort of jetty arrangement. The flotel was only intended for the commissioning phase, it would be removed once the platform went into full production. “A” still had a Flotel, despite already producing oil. The reason for this was that it had been designed with four bunks to a room but the Government decreed that workers should only have to sleep two to a room, so it didn’t have enough legal beds otherwise. The accommodation block on “B” was considerably larger to cope with this.

Externally, the platform had the look and feel of an oil refinery (which it is, having facilities for gas/oil separation) but in the accommodation it felt like a smart hotel, other than a larger than usual number of exit & safety signs. It had lifts serving all the floors, although they were slightly unusual in having facilities for easy exit through the roof and up the shaft in the event of an emergency. Statfjord was unusual in having women staff on board, which the seasoned pros tell me gives a calming influence to a rig, otherwise it can be a bit macho.

Norwegian oil workers had the best conditions in the North sea, their shift patterns (for 10 hour days) were 10 days on, 10 off, 10 on then 20 days off. (The Brits generally worked 10 on/10 off0.

I asked if 10 hour days were over long, but the consensus seemed to be that there wasn’t too much to do otherwise besides eating & watching movies and the work stretched to fill the time available.

The phone system was on the top floor next to the main radio room (just under the helideck) and other than a slight sense of movement when it was choppy, it could have been on dry land. Apparently the three legged “A” twisted somewhat in storms, so B & C went for the extra leg to minimise it. The upgrade went OK after some minor hitches and I eventually retired to bed on the Flotel.

In the morning, after a traditional Norsk breakfast (open sandwiches & fish) I returned to the main platform to ensure all was well. As I went, I watched a crew precariously unloading supplies from one of the supply vessels (like oversize tugboats, one of which circled the rig all day every day) and noticed that it was getting extremely choppy, the boat bouncing around like a bucking bronco at a fairground. Getting to deck level, the stairs were moving considerably with the yaw of the flotel and shortly afterwards the PA announced that they would be lifting the drawbridge.

All being well, I checked in with the despatcher, who advised that I could get on the next chopper (leaving shortly) or stay another day, (as the rest were grounded due to forthcoming bad weather) so I elected for the former. This time, I left from the helideck right at the top of the rig, which is a long way up, was rather breezy and with just a rope net round the edges. I would have liked to have had a proper look round but couldn’t go on the production floor without advanced training so it was not to be.

I do have a vivid recollection of standing by the rail looking out to sea at dusk, seeing the twinkling lights and gas burn-off flares of other rigs in all directions for miles around. The other thing that you don’t expect is the smell, despite “A” being half a mile away there was still a pungent smell of oil & gas.

Whilst man taming the sea through technology is hugely impressive, sometimes the sea wins. Every day when I went to and from work, I passed a fjord with what looked like four round orange pontoons in it. This was actually an unintended monument to a terrible calamity, being the upside-down legs of a flotel called the Alexander L Kielland. It actually had five legs arranged in a pentagon and was used in the Ekofisk field until one of the legs sheared off on March 27th 1980 in a storm and it capsized, killing 123 people in Norway’s worst offshore disaster. It was towed to the Fjord in order to provide shelter before deciding what to do next but even during my time in Stavanger, the relatives were still pressing the authorities to take action to recover any remaining bodies but it was mired in counter-accusation and indecision. The sea is as forgiving as electricity, a reluctant slave, a vengeful master.

“Snakker du Norsk?” Means “do you speak Norwegian?”, in Norwegian, to which my answer is “Ja, jeg snakker litt norsk”, yes, I speak a little Norwegian. (Only in present tense and I’m a bit rusty, it was quarter of a century ago!)

My first trip abroad was working Contract for Mobil Exploration Norway. I was effectively head-hunted (or my job was), an advert appeared in the Coventry Evening Telegraph during mid November 1980 for an SL1 installation & project specialist, 12 month contract, £12k tax free, accommodation provided, 6 flights home. Seeing as how I was earning about £8k at the time, it was too tempting not to explore.

I had a first interview in the Bar of the Coventry De Vere Hotel and it was arranged for me to have my actual interview in Stavanger a few days later (fortunately, I had some holidays left so managed to fit it around other arrangements.)

I flew from Newcastle To Stavanger one evening which was a first for me, I’d never flown commercially before. I’d also never appreciated that a small bottle of wine could be so much more effective at altitude!

Arriving at Stavanger, I met Richard Llewellyn, the local contact, who took me to the best hotel in Stavanger, the Atlantic, for my overnight stay. From my room window, I had a nice view of the town lake. The room seemed a little gloomy, as the style was to have dark shaded lamps rather than a central fixture. The décor was strongly wood based, unsurprising for a country that excelled in forestry as well as fishing and oil. The other thing that stuck in my mind was that whilst it was a double bed, it had two single quilts.

The following day, I was picked up after breakfast (which was a very fishy one), driven round to the harbour and met the team. The main Project manager was a Brit called Derek Bassett, who had a sidekick called Paul Hocking who was working on a message store and forward system (using Telex, a 110 baud text transmission system using teleprinters that pre-dated the Fax and was mostly killed off by it). They were both Contractors for Mobil and the Head of the Department was called Od Haugen. Od was indeed a little odd, but he was always interesting to talk to and a bit of a visionary.

Anyway, they liked me, so it was agreed that I’d start early in the New Year. I then had to work my notice, move out and sort out all the loose ends. GEC were rather disappointed to lose me (The Head of Engineering, Nick Dowty, had me in his office and told me I was “an absolute fart” with a twinkle in his eye). My immediate line manager asked if I could complete one last project, the installation of the training system for British Telecom, as it had just then been renamed. That was a fun fortnight and worth a blog in its own right.

Starting in Norway after the Xmas & New Year festivities, I stayed in the Victoria Hotel for the first week or two, until I was sorted out for an Apartment. The Victoria was one side of the harbour and the offices were in a converted warehouse the other side of the harbour, in a building known as “Crossed Fish”. Getting to and from work was a pleasant stroll, provided it wasn’t raining. Whilst Norway gets very cold, Stavanger catches the gulf stream so it has a maritime climate the same as England. For snow, think rain.

Stavanger is the Texas of Norway, the main oil town. Whilst there was a state owned oil company (StatOil), they couldn’t do it all on their own so most of the other big names were in town as well. I was working for Mobil Exploration Norway Inc., abbreviated to MENI internally. I actually worked for a joint venture company called Anglo-Nor Engineering AS (AS being the equivalent of Ltd), whose only employee was Richard Llewellyn. They were based in the offices of the Norwegian partner and I don’t recall what they were called now (or the British arm either) but they basically picked up UK Television with a very large dish and retransmitted it via Cable to nearby communities with inevitably variable results. At the time there was only one Norwegian TV station (NRK) which was state-run and a little dull so there was certainly an opportunity.

In my first week, I rapidly grasped what the job was about. Mobil had managed to persuade the local PTT to allow them to buy a Northern Telecom SL-1 phone system in the face of strong opposition, the incumbent preferring to supply Ericsson and Siemens systems. Mobil wanted someone who knew the SL-1 and could ensure they were making best use of it. The installation was about to start the following week and plans were well advanced for it.

I was keen to get out of the hotel and so was Richard, as it was eroding his margin. Richard and I visited various possibilities for accommodation, some of which needed a car, some which were not quite finished and some which were not too nice. My favourite one was about three miles inland in a small hamlet called Vaulen, an easy bus ride away. It was the upstairs of a reasonably sized house, consisting of a large lounge, reasonable sized bedroom (with big bed), a kitchen and a bathroom/WC, all off a hallway. My front door was glazed at the top of the stairs and there was also a smaller bedroom there that the landlady’s son used. Apart from the occasional tendency to play Pink Floyd loudly when his mum was out (which didn’t bother me at all), the family were little bother and I could use their washing machine in the basement. The bedroom had a small balcony and it was refreshing to go out in the morning and take in the view, you felt you could lean out and touch the mountains, or scoop up the water of the fjord.

Richard also took me shopping- he bought me sets of sheets, pillows, a duvet, a record player/receiver, a clock radio & a few odds & sods missing from the inventory. He also arranged for hire of a TV and video, although this being Norway, there was a waiting list for the VCR so I bought myself one once the first month’s wages came through.

Work was interesting and enjoyable. My main business contact was Gro Walters, the switchboard supervisor who headed up a team of eight or nine operators. I also befriended the Telex supervisor, a tall Nordic fair haired bloke called Hans who became a good drinking buddy. The Scandinavians are mostly good looking, athletic outdoor folk which makes the women look stunning, but the men seem gay…

Derek Bassett was good to work for, he knew what he wanted and made it clear what the goals were. He also cooked an excellent Curry, so visiting him socially was never a chore.

Socially, Norway was very anti alcohol. There was one proper pub in town on the waterfront called Dickens, beer was 25NKR (Norwegian crowns) a half litre, so this worked out at nearly £3 a pint. The Pub was so popular that after 5pm, you had to queue to get in. There were three other Pubs elsewhere in Town, one which I liked was called the SkipperStuen, or the Captain’s Cabin. The Hotels had bars as well and there were a couple of Night Clubs, my favourite being one called Skagen which was in a converted warehouse. Prawn night was popular, they brought a special rowing boat onto the dancefloor full of cooked (but whole) prawns that you then peeled & made into open sandwiches. If you wanted to buy booze, you went to the State Off-Licence, known as the VinMonop, or Wine Monopoly shop. Here you could buy wines and spirits behind discreet curtained windows. This was also where you went if you needed Meths…

I’ve winged on about unsatisfactory resolutions recently.

After much mithering, I have a range of (mostly) successful outcomes. They all relate to former postings on the blog.

1) ASDA happily gave me £20 back tonight, apologised for messing me about and ripped up the display tickets about the offer that they couldn’t fulfill.

2) The examining board never got back to me as promised, but did admit today that I had passed, they just couldn’t formally release the results until they had all the examiner comments back.

3) The LS27 Group dissapeared up its own orifice once they realised it had gone beyond a joke and that they were moving into the realms of fraud & deception.

4) The Town Council adopted some better Standing Orders recently, although not before I had given the constitutional sub-committee grief for not being constitutional.

5) The Town’s meeting will be held this week, with a sensible Agenda somewhat in line with my musings. It will be in the Alexandra Hall, I expect us to rattle.

6) The smelly waterless urinals have been upgraded and not as whiffy.

7) I have fluid retention in my right lug & some eardrum scarring. I’m being referred to an ear/nose/throat specialist to see if I can get my hearing back to normal.

On a sad note, Morley Puccinos seems to have closed after less than 9 months.

I bought a new pay as you go mobile at ASDA yesterday, it was bundled with £20 of airtime, except that it wasn’t.

The back desk said it would be in the box, but it wasn’t. The front desk said they are kept at the back. The Back said they were kept at the front. After a few internal phone calls to the management team by the front desk, they announced that once I registered, Virgin would sort it out.

After charging the phone overnight and registering this morning, Virgin assured me that all such deals like that are sorted out by the supplier. If they couldn’t help, then I should return it for a refund and buy it off them instead online! Sound advice, other than the small issue of the Virgin Mobile Website being down for most of the day…

Returning to ASDA this morning, I conveyed the update to the “Happy to Help” desk who told me my best bet was to talk to Brian at the back who was an expert on all things Mobile. Brian was indeed very helpful but he only worked there on Sundays and there weren’t any Managers in who could actually make decisions beyond a full refund. The Checkout Supervisor was available…

Another chance to complain today, this time at the Odeon, for a screening of Hitchhiker’s guide to the Galaxy. The festoon curtain rose, the decorative lights dimmed and the sound came on, but oops, no picture, just a dark screen. An usher was able to radio up to the box & get the lamp on quickly enough after I went to find someone, fortunately Xenon discharge lamps reach full brightness instantly.

I enjoyed the film but it had been Hollywoodified somewhat, overplaying the love interest of Arthur & Trillian. I did wonder how much of a role Douglas Adams played in the screenplay before his untimely death. I spotted the original Marvin Robot from the TV series waiting in a queue, Karen thought she also recognised the actor who played the original Arthur. I thought the voices were not quite as good as the radio series but thematically they were pretty close…