IN late 1982, I visited Kolombangara island to see the timber operations of Lever Pacific Timber headed by a person around 10 years older than me, called Dennis Gilbert.
He was a tall and trim figure whom I had met a few times in Honiara, and he told me that previously he was a planter in Sabah with the Commonwealth Development Corporation, and he had changed jobs a few times before he came to the logging business.
I had also heard that Unilever was scaling down the activities in this industry, including in Nigeria and Indonesia. I flew in Solomon Air from Banika to Gizo in the Western Province.
A short boat ride took me to Kolombangara at Ringgi Cove, met by Gilbert at the jetty in his smart white shorts, shirt with epaulettes and a blue navy cap, looking like he had stepped off a warship.
The island was a base for 10,000 Japanese troops in the war who fought to keep control of the area. Officer John F. Kennedy had his ship PT-109 sunk nearby and he was saved from a small island which had since been named after him.
Now Gilbert pointed out the log pond, full with round logs. A bit further inland, we came to the office where his team was waiting to give a briefing.
I could see at least a dozen British expatriates in the room, in a building fully air-conditioned, with the slide projectors and screen in place, and after an introduction by Gilbert, each showed the numbers, the charts and the types of timber they were logging, including vitex and merbau.
Gilbert had laid out the reception very well like it was for a director’s visit. At the full briefing, he watched carefully for my reaction, and once in a while I could see him biting his nails. It seemed to be a habit that he had.
It was only at the end, when it came to problems, that an executive explained that the logs were running out and some machines had been moved to the island of New Georgia to start work on a concession, but the local community was opposed to it.
One night they had torched some bulldozers at the camp at Enoghae. I looked at Gilbert for an answer.
“These are young firebrands, instigated by a church that has been formed there. Our stance is to fight them in court.”
It was later that he told me more.
“We have the right to log, but there is a cult leader who calls himself the Holy Mama. He claims to have magical powers. His followers live in communes that he called Paradise and Jericho. He is making life hard for us.”
But all this was forgotten as we arrived at his bungalow on top of a hill. It had a central air-conditioning, and the guest-room was like in a hotel in England, and no detail was left.
In the evening he had called his expatriate managers for a formal dinner with the courses served by several waiters. His wife Charlene, a charming lady, was a wonderful hostess and easy to talk to.
When I tasted the food I realised he also had an excellent cook, better than my John Debalami.
I answered some questions from his managers about the plantations business. Although we were in the same group, at their level, they did not get a chance to visit.
Like most expatriates, they would serve long stretches on the island and then would rush back to England for their leave until it was time to rush back again.
I, too, had the chance to ask a few questions.
“Where do you send the logs?”
Gilbert answered. “To Japan mostly, although they seem to complain lately. They say there is lead in the logs and it is damaging their machines. I wrote back to ask who had put the metal there in the first place.”
“Were they upset?”
“They hadn’t replied.”
Over breakfast before I left, I mentioned to Gilbert he had a big team.
“Yes, but it is smaller now. I had to remove three people last week. A bachelor fell in love with another manager’s wife. I had to let them go.”
“You could not stop them?”
“No. These things can take an ugly turn. I had to act firmly.”
I was not surprised to hear a story like that. Even on plantations, it could happen. Careers can be destroyed. Seeing the same face each day without a break can have its risks. Somerset Maugham would have enjoyed writing a story like that. But I did not say this to Gilbert, and the last point was for me to set a date for him and his wife Charlene to visit Banika.
A few days later at Banika, I introduced him to my team who gave a briefing where he listened intently, not saying anything, but sometimes biting his nail.
Then we had some time to go riding with myself sitting on a docile horse. But Gilbert turned out to be a much better rider, and his horse responded by going at a full gallop on the grass, giving him the chance to show off while I was left at a gentle trot.
Before he left, I told him about my plans, and if those worked out, would he be keen to take over the job?
He replied: “That would be super.”
The next day I wrote to London to say that it would be timely for me to leave and we have Dennis Gilbert, a man with experience in the Solomons, and who also knows about plantations, who therefore, would be a suitable replacement.
The rest of the process followed, and in a month, Gilbert arrived to take over.
Unknown to me, the timber operation was about to close, and logging was no longer going to be part of the business of Unilever. Probably Gilbert knew that too, but he did not tell me.
It was during handing-over that I told him about the last point.
“We have a negotiation with the workers’ union due fairly soon, and you will have to handle it with care. I have found the leaders use their wits a lot, but they know the figures, and what we can pay. We negotiate quietly. But they will make a show like the last time, for a few days to impress the members, and then settle. It takes time.”
“I don’t do that. We have to put a firm stand from the start. Our stance is to give the minimum. A penny saved is a penny earned.”
After I boarded the plane to leave Banika, my mind was still on what he had said. That was not the way to deal with the islanders. Was he really the right man for the job? As the plane left the island, I tried to sit back and relax. But the question stayed with me, and I found myself biting my nails.
The writer has extensive experience in the management of oil palm plantations. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
