It had begun ten years earlier, at a lunch Spyros Lambrou had with his sister. She had never seen him so excited.
“Melina, did you know that every single day the world consumes all the fossil fuel it took a thousand years to create?”
“No, Spyros.”
“There’s going to be a tremendous demand for oil in the future, and there aren’t going to be enough oil tankers to handle it.”
“You’re going to build some?”
He nodded. “But not just ordinary tankers. I’m going to build the first fleet of large tankers. They’ll be twice as large as the present ones.” His voice was filled with enthusiasm. “I’ve spent months going over the figures. Listen to this. A gallon of crude petroleum hauled from the Persian Gulf to an eastern-coast port of the United States costs seven cents. But on a big tanker, the cost would come down to three cents a gallon. Do you have any idea what that could mean?”
“Spyros—where are you going to get the money to build a fleet like that?”
He smiled. “That’s the beautiful part of my plan. It won’t cost me a cent.”
“What?”
He leaned forward. “I’m going to America next month to talk to the heads of the big oil companies. With these tankers, I can carry their oil for them for half the price they can carry it.”
“But…you don’t have any big tankers.”
His smile turned into a grin. “No, but if I can get long-term charter contracts from the oil companies, the banks will loan me the money I need to build them. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a genius. It’s a brilliant plan.”
Melina was so excited about her brother’s idea that she mentioned it to Demiris that evening at dinner.
When she had finished explaining it, Melina said, “Isn’t that a wonderful idea?”
Constantin Demiris was silent for a moment. “Your brother’s a dreamer. It could never work.”
Melina looked at him in surprise. “Why not, Costa?”
“Because it’s a harebrained scheme. In the first place, there’s not going to be that big a demand for oil, so those mythical tankers of his will run empty. Secondly, the oil companies aren’t about to turn their precious oil over to a phantom fleet that doesn’t even exist. And third, those bankers he’s going to will laugh him out of their offices.”
Melina’s face clouded with disappointment. “Spyros was so enthusiastic. Would you mind discussing it with him?”
Demiris shook his head. “Let him have his dream, Melina. It would be better if he didn’t even know about our conversation.”
“All right, Costa. Whatever you say.”
Early the following morning Constantin Demiris was on his way to the United States to discuss large tankers. He was aware that the world petroleum reserves outside the United States and the Soviet bloc territories were controlled by the seven sisters: Standard Oil Company of New Jersey, Standard Oil Company of California, Gulf Oil, the Texas Company, Socony-Vacuum, Royal Dutch-Shell, and Anglo-Iranian. He knew that if he could get just one of them, the others were sure to follow.
Constantin Demiris’s first visit was to the executive offices of Standard Oil of New Jersey. He had an appointment with Owen Curtiss, a fourth vice-president.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Demiris?”
“I have a concept that I think could be of great financial benefit to your company.”
“Yes, you mentioned that over the telephone.” Curtiss glanced at his wristwatch. “I have a meeting in a few minutes. If you could be brief…”
“I’ll be very brief. It costs you seven cents to haul a gallon of crude petroleum from the Persian Gulf to the eastern coast of the United States.”
“That’s correct.”
“What would you say if I told you that I can guarantee to carry your oil for three cents a gallon?”
Curtiss smiled patronizingly. “And just how would you perform that miracle?”
Demiris said quietly, “With a fleet of tankers that will have twice the carrying capacity of the present ones. I can transport your oil as fast as you can pump it out of the ground.”
Curtiss was studying him, his face thoughtful. “Where would you get a fleet of large tankers?”