Day 201 - Mad Dogs and Englishmen

sand yacht race in Qatar 1988

That day I went with friends to watch the sand yacht race in Doha, I didn't know that I might run into my future husband. He was serving as a marshall at that race. Marshalls are assigned specific locations and watch as the racers come by to make sure they are on course and haven't taken a short cut to reach each of the course's stations as well as making sure the course is safe for both the racers and those watching. In 2002, a British woman was killed when she was hit by a sand yacht just after the race began because the marshall who was responsible for that section of the route had been called away to see to a broken sand yacht. That event caused the sport to be banned for nine years on the beach where the accident occurred.

Fortunately for both racers and spectators in Qatar, the course could hardly be confusing to anyone since the race was along the highways. That also made it less likely that the racers would try any short cuts because it would be all that much easier for the marshalls to spot deviations from the highway route.

One of the advantages of being part of a relatively small expatriate community was that the opportunities to be involved in sports or activities that in other parts of the world are highly sought after or require extensive training are available even to those who may have just heard of them before being assigned a task. That is how Alex was tasked with being a sand yacht race marshall. He was willing and there was a need.

Image of road rally car by M.Jacopo,
via Flickr.com

And about a year later, that is how Alex and I ended up as marshalls for an international road rally. We were assigned as marshalls for two stages of the rally on consecutive days. In contrast to the sand yacht race where the vehicles that would under other circumstances be raced on the beach, not a road, the international road rally in Doha was raced across the desert, not on a road. Have I mentioned that many things in Doha seemed backwards from expectations?

On the first day, Alex and I ended up assigned to different observation points along the stage which ran through a particularly scenic area known as the rubbish tip (that's British for garbage dump). We had to report early for training which consisted of someone showing us where we were to stand to observe and note down any drivers who strayed from the course, and then following behind a driver who took us along the course so we got an idea of where the drivers might be tempted to take short cuts. Alex was on a more important stage - the count down at the beginning of the stage. In rallies, the cars don't all take off at the same time; they are paced so that each car has a clear path ahead, unless one can make up the time to catch up with the previous car at which point there may actually be a race.

The other important marshall stand was at the finish line of the stage where the exact time the driver passed the line was noted.

In the event, the drivers passed me so quickly, I'm not sure I could have identified one from another. I think our presence was more to encourage good behavior than to catch bad behavior. All the cars made it through the stage in very short time and they then made their way to the next stage. But we were done for the day.

The second day, Alex and I and another couple - the British woman who had been the American student advisor in the Public Affairs Office and her husband - were assigned at the beginning of a stage, one of the early ones that day. Our stage was out in the desert and we expected there to be three minutes between each driver starting out at our stage. That meant we would spend a few tense seconds with each car at the starting line, followed by nearly three minutes of nothing to do in the very hot mid-day sun. So we brought along a table and four chairs, a linen table cloth and napkins, china dishes, crystal wine glasses, and snacks. We decided we couldn't open the wine until we had completed our duties as we wouldn't want any accusations that we weren't serious about our responsibilities. But we were determined to have fun in the desert.

Our day didn't go quite as expected, however. We only had three drivers at our stage at which point no more drivers appeared. Instead, we waited, wondering what was going on. Eventually we saw a helicopter overhead, moving in the direction of the end of our stage. We learned later that between the first and second cars, someone had rolled a large boulder in the path of the stage which caused the second driver to crash. He was seriously injured. When the third car came upon the crash site, he stopped and radioed for help. At that point the rally was stopped. The rally organizers asked us to remain in place to ensure we could give directions to anyone brought in to assist, at which point, we broke open the wine and relaxed at our cafe in the desert.

As Noel Coward sang, only "mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun."