Glines - Seven Days in Fiji

Seven days in Fiji

By Steve Glines

To Suds Macklen
The smartest man I have ever met and who delayed his90thbirthday party so that I couldfinish this.

To Aruind Keshwal
My business partner in Fiji

I have a seven-hour jet lag or is it 17hours. I just got back from Fiji bound for Chicago. Half adozen steamer trunks would be loaded into the baggage car with alarge valise serving as a traveling wardrobe. In another bygone eramy Grandfather would travel the world with a manservant but my Dadwas a thoroughly modern 20th Century man, he traveledalone.

The trip to Chicago would take the entirenight. Leaving at 6 in the evening, the 20th CenturyLimited wound its way up the Hudson River, crossing near Albany.From there the tracks paralleled the old Erie Canal through upstateNew York, never stopping until it reached the suburbs of Chicago.With luck the trip would take a short 12 hours but bad weather orproblems on the line could delay arrival by many hours. The lastrun of the 20th Century Limited was on December 2nd1967, she was nine hours late. Layovers were not measured in hoursbut in days. A day or two layover was not a problem since it islikely that my Dad knew some business men he wanted to connect withon his way to the Orient. If there was a residential Harvard Clubin Chicago in 1920 Im sure he would have had his secretary book aroom. If not there were other clubs and grand hotels available toaccommodate him.

My Dad traveled with a portfolio of lettersof introduction from various businessmen and bankers designed togain access to and cash from various potentates along the way. Oneletter of introduction from the President of the Chemical, CornExchange Bank in New York City, dated 1927, and reads, This letteris to introduce you to E. Stanley Glines. His credit is good inseven figures. In 1927 my Dad could borrow a million dollars fromanyone recognizing the signature of the bank president.

Trips like this were not the light businessjunkets we take today or the heavy progress of a wealthy princeacross the interior. A business trip was a combination pitch toinvestors, a search for backers and the accumulation of the goodsand services needed at the end of the line. One did not go acrossthe country to shake hands as we do today. A business trip was aself-contained business that wheeled and dealed from one end of theworld to the other and might involve dozens or hundreds of sidedeals on the way to the one BIG DEAL. My Dads first trip to Chinawas a textbook example of an early 20th Century (or onemight say late 19th Century) business trip. He was onhis way to China for Stone and Webster Engineering in Boston tosurvey for a railroad to be built from Peking to Ulin Bator inOuter Mongolia. Along the way he agreed to export from ChinaChinese tea, and import into China a series of coin and moneypresses for the newly formed Imperial bank of China which my Dadwas credited as a founding partner. I think the Bank of China wasitself a side deal that allowed the financing of the railroad withlocal Chinese and British money.

After a nights rest and a day of shakinghands and explaining his mission my Dad would head back to therailroad for the long trip on the Overland Limited which leftChicago at 10:30 a.m. and arrived in San Francisco at 8:30 a.m.three days later.

Figure 1 Paintings by Howard Fogg - In 1917, thefamous train is shown heading west past the spectacular cliffs ofthe Green River in Wyoming.

Once in San Francisco my Dad would againhave looked up business acquaintances and exercised his lettersof introduction. I do know from reading his journal of thatfirst trip, that he spent considerable time in San Francisco beforeembarking for Shanghai. The manufacturing company that made themachinery for the San Francisco mint had been contracted as a partof a side deal to manufacture the machinery and presses for theImperial Bank of China. My dad had to see that the equipment waspacked and booked for shipment with him. This trip had begun toresemble an expedition. I remember reading about Winston Churchillheading off to the Boar War with 12 trunks that included severalhundred bottles of wine and spirits.

Somewhere in my dads journals he describesthe journey aboard the passenger steamer leaving San Francisco forShanghai. Along the way they stopped for a day in Honolulu Hawaii,Tokyo Japan and finally Shanghai, a journey of over 6,000 miles atan average of 12 knots. The math yields 20 days at sea but inreality this was a month long trip with days spent loading andunloading cargo, re-provisioning and coaling at every stop. Therewas some 1920s Hollywood starlet that was also traveling to Chinaaboard the same ship and my dad spent considerable time in hercompany but my mother could never get my dad to admit they had anaffair. Perhaps they didnt.

My dads business wasnt in Shanghai butrather in Peking and north to Ulan Bator in Outer Mongolia. It tookhim more than a month to get to Peking and another three to surveythe tract between there and Ulan Bator for a railroad spur. Alongthe way he met and exchanged gun fire with bandits, discovered thathe was smuggling guns in the crates he thought were printingpresses, had a partner die in a sleeping bag next to him, had cameldung smeared all over his face as a cure for acute sunburn and metVinegar Joe Stillwell in a bar that sounded like theintergalactic bar in the first Star Wars movie. My dad and VinegarJoe both tried to pay for their meals with cigar coupons. BothVinegar Joe and my dad fled for their lives on camel back thenext day when a marauding army of White Russian Cossacks sacked thecity. This make me think that the Harry Flashman stories could very wellhave been a retelling of the life of some real non-fictioncharacter.

Even though China in 1920 was as wild as anyplace on earth my dad made a good fortune on that business trip andmade three more before 1940. Along the way he managed to meeteveryone thatwas anyone in China from Sun Yat Sen, the founder of modern China,to Chiang Kai-shek and even Mao and Chou En-lai. He liked Sun,thought Chiang pompous and despised Mao as an uneducated buffoonbut thought Chou En-lai was brilliant but unprincipled.

By these standards I did not make a businesstrip to Suva Fiji. My trip was not a business expedition; I flewin, taught a class for 40 hours then flew out. It was like a WWIIbombing mission more than a business expedition. Like my fathersyearlong trips the minutia of the trip is what is interesting.

I dont think travel by itself is conduciveto being creative. As far as I can remember Lord Byron is the onlyone I can remember who actually wrote anything of interest whiletraveling. I think he wrote a volume of poetry on his way out ofEngland. That could have been Shelly. I cant remember. The pointis that the act of traveling while inspirational is not conduciveto actual production, at least not for me. Whenever I travel Ibring my laptop and occasionally think about pulling it out. Thereare lots of opportunities to write or read. I have seen peoplereading or using their laptops while queued up to deposit theirluggage at the check-in counter. I have seen people reading andusing their laptops (mostly for watching DVDs) while waitingmindlessly in uncomfortable seats for airplanes to show up and, ofcourse, Ive seen people reading and using laptops while on longflights from here to their. I cant do either.