Laura McDermid continues her stories about Iris McCallum’s early years in East Africa.
When the Kenyan Police Air Wing could not fulfil a mission, they would charter Air Kenya. As a result I had the great fortune of discovering remote places like Garissa, Wajir, El Wak and Mandera.
El Wak was very close to the Somali Border and was famous for its fort which closely resembled Fort Zinderneuf, a fictional fort in the Sahara desert out of the novel Beau Geste. Published by P.C. Wren in 1924, it tells the story of three brothers who join the French Foreign Legion after a valuable family heirloom is stolen.
Whenever I flew to El Wak, I couldn’t help but think of Snoopy’s Legionnaire alter ego “Beau” Snoopy, the novel’s tragic hero, attempting yet another siege of Fort Zinderneuf.
Pilots at the time had a saying about El Wak which went like this: If you were only given three months to live, move to El Wak and it would seem like forever.
One of the many really interesting people that I met in the short time that I’d been flying with Air Kenya was Roger Sylvester. Roger was responsible for securing all the charters to the Ol Pejeta Ranch which had recently been purchased by Adnan Khashoggi, the Saudi arms dealer and businessman, which marked a significant chapter in the property’s transformation.
Located in Laikipia County, near Nanyuki, on the foothills of Mount Kenya, Ol Pejeta Ranch covered around 90,000 acres. Khashoggi was one of the richest men in the world, with properties around the globe and the acquisition of Ol Pejeta was part of his growing portfolio.
From its early days of cattle ranching, Ol Pejeta evolved to serve multiple purposes, becoming a private playground for Khashoggi and his wealthy circle, where guests could engage in big-game hunting.
Khashoggi’s ownership coincided with a surge in global interest in Kenya as a premier safari destination, opening the door to the allure and romance of high-end East African luxury safaris. We would often fly Khashoggi from Wilson Airport to his ranch where we would spend the day ‘hanging out’ whilst Khashoggi dealt with his business affairs.
What I learned during my tenure flying charters is that it didn’t matter if a person was ultra-rich and commanded an empire. When they boarded that plane, they relinquished control to those in charge, winding their egos in a few notches, as the altitude reminded them that, up there, power meant trust—not in wealth or status, but in the hands guiding them through the sky. Being in such close confines at 10,000 feet brought out a different side to most of my wealthy clients. They were courteous, friendly and made me feel very comfortable in their presence.
When I’d spend the day at Ol Pejeta Ranch, I would be invited to join the Khashoggi family for lunch. The meals were a feast of traditional Arabic dishes, including warm flatbreads with hummus, fresh tabbouleh, grilled halloumi, and perfectly spiced kofta. To complement this delicious spread I was always offered a glass of exquisite wine like Chateau Margaux or Châteauneuf-du-Pape.
Sadly there was no drinking for us pilots on duty, but on occasion I would find a bottle waiting for me in my aircraft to be enjoyed later. And so my first taste of Château Margaux was paired with a humble dinner of boiled eggs—the only food I had in my fridge at the time.
The Ol Pejeta airstrip sat at an elevation of 6,300 feet, composed entirely of black cotton soil—a tricky surface, especially during the rainy season. Once wet, it became as slick as ice. To keep the aircraft from sliding off the runway, we avoided using the brakes and quickly adapted to the challenge, becoming seasoned black cotton soil pilots in the process.
There was one particularly wet day when the runway was deemed too dangerous and I was grounded for the night. I hadn’t packed any overnight gear, so George—Khashoggi’s right-hand man and the ranch manager—kindly offered me a place to stay at the residence. Not wanting to appear ungrateful, I asked if he could instead arrange for me to be driven to Nanyuki, where my brother Danny’s in-laws lived. George quickly organized a driver, and before long, we were slipping and sliding our way through the mud for a bumpy 30-minute ride
Danny’s in-laws, Jane and Digby Tatham-Warter considered me part of the family and I had in turn ‘adopted’ them as my own in-laws.
Major Allison Digby Tatham-Warter was a British officer known for his unconventional bravery during the Battle of Arnhem in World War II where he was awarded the Distinguished Service Order.
Digby was a tad eccentric and was known for wearing a bowler hat and carrying an umbrella into battle, which inspired the character in the film ‘A Bridge Too Far’, an epic historical war film directed by Richard Attenborough. During the Battle of Arnhem, Digby was injured by shrapnel, but continued to fight until they had run out of ammunition, following which they were captured.
Digby was sent to St Elizabeth’s Hospital, where assisted by the Dutch Resistance, he escaped out of a window with his second-in-command, Captain Tony Frank.
Jane greeted me warmly, thrilled that I had “perfectly timed my arrival” as she was in the middle of preparing for a dinner party. Among the guests was Colonel Herbert Jones, the Commanding Officer of the 2nd Battalion, Parachute Regiment.
My clothes were streaked with mud, and my typically wild bush pig curls were plastered to my head. I apologized for looking as though I’d been dragged through the bush backwards, but Jane just smiled, handed me a glass of wine, and offered me a bright pink kaftan to change into. The evening unfolded with good food, wine, laughter, and effortless conversation.
As it transpired, I never saw Colonel Herbert Jones again as he was killed in the Falklands war a few months later and was awarded the Victoria Cross posthumously.
The following morning we awoke to brilliant blue skies and George sent the driver to collect me. By the time we got back to the Ol Pejeta Ranch, the sun had dried the airstrip out and Khashoggi and I flew back to Wilson without any incident.