A word of caution: Scientologists are told that if they see the OT III materials before they are «ready», they will go insane, not be able to sleep, get sick and eventually die, and they believe it! For this reason, I would not suggest revealing OT III materials to a person during an exit counselling if they haven't seen them, not because it is true, but because the suggestion that they will go insane might act upon them as a post-hypnotic suggestion and they might respond to it by actually «getting sick» or even going insane. In my opinion, it simply isn't worth the risk.
At the time I did OT III, the entire level was audited solo, unless repairs were needed. Today, there is much more involved in doing OT III and a person can spend thousands of dollars getting audited on this level. It took me about two weeks of daily solo auditing to get through OT III. The EP that was promised to us was return of full self-determinism, which I attested to. I felt like I had the world in the palm of my hand and I felt, on an even deeper level, that my mission was to join the Sea Org so I could commit myself more fully to making this a Scientology planet.
Little did I know that self-determinism of any kind was impossible in the Sea Org and that every waking moment of my time was to be controlled by the whims of L. Ron Hubbard or some other Sea Org officer. I was about to find out what Scientology was really all about.
The Sea Org
In February, 1973, I returned to Salt Lake City to get the rest of my belongings together and move to LA, where I would be joining the Sea Org as an AOLA staff member. This time, since I was an OT III, Class VI auditor, doors were open to me as a Sea Org member that would not have been open previously when I had very little training and auditing. My training and experience as an auditor were considered to be of great value to the Sea Org and I would immediately be given a position as an auditor, with opportunities to train to the highest level possible, free of charge.
When I told Deon, the franchise holder in Salt Lake City, that I was joining the Sea Org, she was very angry at me. She accused me of being an opportunist, using the franchise as a stepping stone to get what I wanted. I felt badly about what she said, since we had once been very close, but I also realized that I had a right to move on. After all, I had paid for my own training and auditing outside the franchise and didn't feel I owed her anything. In retrospect, I think she was upset because she knew what the Sea Org was really like and what would be in store for me. She knew several leaders in Scientology and had heard the stories of the heavy ethics. She had probably had a taste of it herself, having studied at Saint Hill in the late 1960s. Of course, she didn't dare criticize the Sea Org to me. She just said that she was «not an org person» and wouldn't elaborate further.
In late February, 1973, I returned to LA and finally signed the contract for one billion years. Even though I was very excited, I had a bad gut feeling about the group. I explained it away by saying that things would be better on Flag. Right after joining, I came down with a bad cold and laryngitis, so I stayed in a hotel for a week before moving in with the group. During that time, I felt weepy and depressed, but I paid no attention to my feelings and quickly dismissed any thoughts I might have had that I made a mistake in joining the Sea Org.
When I got better, I moved into one of the houses where the staff members lived. Right from the start, I was difficult and argumentative. At first, I was shown to a small room where four people lived in bunk beds. I refused to stay there, so I was eventually given a larger room that I shared with just one other person. Refusing accomodations was not something that was normally done or accepted in the Sea Org, but I got away with it because of the clout I had as a highly trained auditor and OT. When a Scientologist who has not attained the state of Clear and OT is faced with an OT, they are usually in awe and go into a kind of trance state. At the time, I was not aware of this phenomenon on a conscious level, but, subconsciously, I picked it up and used it to get what I wanted. On Flag, however, this was not the case because there were so many clears and OTs and being around one didn't phase anyone.
My job as a staff member at AOLA was to audit clears and OTs who needed additional auditing to supplement and repair the auditing that they had already received so they would be prepared to audit themselves on the advanced levels. One of the people that I audited was Anne Burgess, a top level person in the Guardian's Office, which was run by Mary Sue Hubbard, L. Ron Hubbard's wife. Anne and I developed a very good rapport and she was very pleased with the auditing she received from me. Word of her auditing got back to Mary Sue, who personally invited me to come to Flag and to train as a Flag auditor. I considered it a great honor to be singled out by the wife of L. Ron Hubbard. Going to Flag to live on the ship with Hubbard and the elite of the Sea Org had been a dream of mine for two years—a dream that I had worked very hard and had overcome many obstacles to realize. My dream was finally about to come true.
The Flagship Apollo
In May, 1973, I left for the Flagship Apollo, «the sanest place on the planet», I had been told many times. After getting inoculations for small pox and cholera, I flew to New York City where I was met by someone who told me what my destination was to be: Lisbon, Portugal. All this secrecy enhanced my sense of adventure and excitement. In Lisbon, I met someone else, who put me on a plane to Oporto, Portugal. I was told never to mention Scientology to anyone outside of the ship. We were to use the official «shore story», which was that we were company executives being trained by a management corporation, called Operation Transport Corp. («OTC», which was a Panamanian Corporation), which offered business courses aboard the ship.
I arrived in Oporto in the afternoon and was taken to the ship, which was at anchor at the time. Upon boarding the ship, someone took my passport away from me, which was to be locked up in a safe that I had no access to. I was so excited about being on Flag, I didn't even question this action, assuming there must have been a good reason. There was: taking our passports made it very hard for us to leave, but that was not a reason I thought of at the time. After a brief medical check, I was given linen and shown to my quarters, which was a dark, dingy room below decks with bunk beds stacked in three tiers. About 50 women lived in this dormitory, which was very stuffy. A similar men's dormitory was across the hall. By that time, I had been up for more than 24 hours and was fully feeling the effects of jet lag, as well as the Cholera shot I had received, so I was in somewhat of a daze. I vaguely remember asking someone if there were any better accomodations aboard, but of course, there weren't; not for me. On Flag I wasn't anyone special. I was an intern training to be a Flag auditor and there were many people aboard the ship who were as or more highly trained than I was. The only people on the ship who got private cabins were married couples and very high ranking officers, and even those quarters were very small and cramped, with barely enough room in most of them for a bed and a small sink. I resigned myself to the fact that the women's dorm is where I would be living, which was a very noisy place, with 50 people sharing the space. For some reason, the particular bunk I had was surrounded by wooden boards on three sides, making me feel as if I were enclosed in a coffin. I was exhausted and was allowed to sleep until noon the next day. When I awoke, I was very drowsy and disoriented. For a few horrifying moments, I couldn't find my way out of the bunk and felt as if I was trapped in a coffin. The dorm was pitch dark. Finally, I became more fully conscious and found my way out. In spite of the dingy living quarters, I was very excited to be on Flag.