wrote
We must have just missed each other.

I was a regular to Masirah 1965-67 (Argosy) and then circa 1972-74
(Hercules). We captains used to love to wind up the young
impressible
co-pilots with tales of the “Golden Slipper” in downtown Masirah.

You must have witnessed the arrival of the Turtles at certain
seasons/
tides.

.... yes Jack, many *genuinely* happy memories of that rather bleak
place on the route to the Far East. I won't bore everyone here with
too many, but the turtles as you say were worth the tour alone - both
the "mums" clambering up the beach to lay, and the later hatching for
a return to the sea: we used to go down and try and help some reach
the water line and also discourage too much predation, though to be
honest, at that time the whole thing seemed quite sustainable without
too much help from us!

As a rather naive sort, I had several shocks on my initial flight out
to Masirah: first, I should have realised I suppose that if you're
told to report to RAF Lyneham, you ain't going to fly out on a VC10!
A C-130 is a wonderful aircraft, and if you've got something to do
with flying the thing at the front, or otherwise supporting the work,
the time probably goes alright. If you're a passenger for hour after
hour in a webbing seat up at the back, first to Cyprus (Akro) then via
the old CENTO route over Turkey, Iran and the Gulf, the novelty wears
off - quickly!

And then of course, this green-behind-the-ears type didn't fully
appreciate (and dear old Met O 10 down at Eastern Road didn't exactly
emphasise), that this was a war zone! The route was strictly
Akrotiri - Masirah, but a little diversion to Salalah (planned or not
I don't know), was 'interesting'. The aircraft taxied back into the
protection of the blast wall, the doors opened (hot, suffocating
desert air flowed in - fag-end of the NE monsoon season), and the ALM
said " run like hell for the shelter ", before a loud explosion was
heard - very close by! The rebels were lobbing mortars at anything
that moved - and we had recently been moving.

It wasn't until many years afterwards, when I read the autobiography
of Sir Peter De La Billiere (SAS before he was Gulf War commander),
that I fully realised just how chancy things were down that end of
Oman - needless to say, an 'interesting' time.

Martin.

--
Martin Rowley
West Moors, East Dorset (UK): 17m (56ft) amsl
Lat: 50.82N Long: 01.88W
NGR: SU 082 023