Keys to Success

Successful international exhibiting often hinges on your ability to track key details. But when I shipped my company’s armored 4-by-4 vehicle to the 2007 International Defence Exhibition and Conference, simply tracking my keys proved even more important.

As business development manager for a major defense contractor, I was responsible for overseeing the construction of our 3,200-square-foot booth at this important defense-industry show in Abu Dhabi. The plan was to put the star attraction — our latest armored recon vehicle — front and center in the exhibit space.

A little more than a week before the show, all seemed to be going well. Our vehicle had cleared several customs hurdles — a major problem when shipping military equipment to a show in the Middle East — and was sitting nicely in a holding compound in Abu Dhabi just waiting to be released to us on Feb. 10, eight days before the show.

Despite our good luck thus far, I knew timing would be critical. Given our Hummer-sized vehicle, we would have to move it through the hall and to our space before the aisles were littered with the crates and booth-building debris. So when I got word that our vehicle had been safely transported from the holding compound to the parking lot outside the convention center, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

I quickly made my way to the convention center, where I watched a crane successfully unload our crated vehicle via a suspended sling. With nary a scratch on our baby, I set to work un-crating and prepping it for the short drive to our booth. As the final step in our preparations, I unlatched the exterior hood release, snapped on the battery cables, and carefully closed the hood. With the vehicle seemingly ready to roll, I turned to my shipping rep and politely asked for the keys.

With a frown and worry on his face, he shook his head and told me he had no keys. In fact, a quick survey of all of my colleagues in Abu Dhabi showed that no one in our little group had the keys to the vehicle. Somehow, between Canada and the Middle East, the keys had gone MIA.

Hoping there was a logical answer to our key-free dilemma, I placed a couple of calls to our offices in Canada, where the folks in the transportation department told me to search the engine compartment. It seems the crew that typically readied the vehicle for shipment often tie-wrapped keys to part of the engine. But after an exhaustive search of the vehicle, I concluded that the keys weren’t anywhere in the engine compartment or on the frame.

The home-office’s next suggestion was simply ludicrous. Accepting that it might take some time to find the keys, they asked if I could simply break in to the vehicle and jump start it, or at least slip it into neutral so we could push it into place. Apparently, however, they seemed to have forgotten the vehicle was equipped with inch-thick glass and armor designed to stop rocket attacks. Breaking into this vehicle would be impossible.

With our impenetrable 4-by-4 locked up in the parking lot — so close but yet so far from our exhibit space — I started to worry. The exhibit hall was filling up fast, and our move-in time was quickly evaporating. I needed a stroke of good luck, not to mention some keys, to get into our vehicle and drive it into position.


The good luck I desperately needed came first. While there was only one booth between our exhibit and the loading docks, I figured whenever we got the vehicle started we’d certainly need to move some I&D debris — or at the very least to navigate around our neighboring exhibitor. As it turned out, our neighbor was having a worse time than I was. The company’s whole booth wasn’t only late, it was AWOL. So as long as our neighbor’s bad luck continued, I’d have a clear road from the docks to my exhibit space.

Seeing this window of opportunity, I decided to let the home office concentrate on the original keys while I tried to get a replacement set. The vehicle was originally made in Switzerland, and like all things Swiss, the manufacturer was efficient. So when I called the manufacturer, I discovered that it not only had copies of the keys on file, but it was willing to ship them to me immediately. The only hitch was that since the keys would be shipped over the weekend, it would take three more days for them to reach me in the United Arab Emirates. During those three long days, I kept one eye on the still-empty exhibit space between me and the loading docks while I made plans to set up our booth in record time once the keys arrived. We installed the floor, and readied the rest of the exhibit for a lightning-fast install once our centerpiece was in place. Still, we endured three days of inactivity, waiting for our package from Switzerland.

Finally, the keys arrived, and I rushed out to the parking lot, unlocked the vehicle, and started the engine. Driving into the exhibit hall, I felt a bit sorry for our neighbor, whose booth had been located but held up by customs, but their loss was my gain. With just four days to build our exhibit around the vehicle, we worked late into each night, finally finishing on the morning the show opened. I was also happy to see that our neighbor’s booth arrived two days before the show and a crew working around the clock got it ready just in time.

Once the show opened, attendees admired our booth, blissfully unaware of our three-day delay. Two days into the show, the home office called to let me know that the lost keys had been found. Somebody located them on what was likely our original transport ship in the middle of the North Atlantic. I guess mom was right: It’s always best to have a spare set of keys — just in case.

— Garry Third, business development manager, London, ON, Canada