I Left Montana for a Quick Fishing Trip. I’m Now Stranded in Dubai.

In March 2026, Montana anglers Stephen Simpson and Andrew Bailey became stranded in Dubai after the U.S. and Israel launched military attacks against Iran. The duo had just wrapped up a fishing trip in the Seychelles and were in the UAE on a brief layover when the government grounded all flights. Simpson told Outside what it’s like to be stranded overseas amid the conflict. 

About a year ago, my friend Andy asked me where I would go if I could travel anywhere in the world. Without hesitation, I said Cosmolito, a remote atoll located in the outer islands of the Seychelles, off the eastern coast of Africa. We took the plunge, and on February 16, left our home in Missoula, Montana, for the two-week fishing trip of a lifetime.

Andy, 41, and I, 45, chased travally—a sought-after fish to catch with a fly rod—throughout the Indian Ocean. Aside from Canada and Mexico, Andy had never been outside of the United States. It was magical.

On our way home, we had to make a connecting flight in Dubai. We landed around 5 A.M. on February 28 for what was supposed to be a short layover. We went to a lounge at Zayed International Airport, had some food, and reminisced about our trip. Then we boarded our plane and taxied out to the runway—nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

And then we sat on the runway for four hours—enough time for me to complete both Dune movies. Finally, the pilot told us on the intercom that the U.S. and Israel had bombed Iran, which meant that the airspace above Dubai was now closed.

We taxied back to the airport, got off the plane, and, while it was unusual, nothing felt dangerous or urgent. We stayed at a hotel in Terminal 3, thinking it would be helpful to be closer to the airport when flights reopened the next day. No big deal. Because we were just connecting flights, we hadn’t gone through customs yet, and we weren’t cleared to enter Dubai.

Shortly after midnight, all of a sudden, we heard a fire alarm in the building. We grabbed our carry-on bags and passports, leaving most of our stuff behind. When we walked out the door, we could see hotel staff running and panicking. There were people everywhere, speaking all different languages.

Just outside our hotel door, we smelled a mixture of burning rubber, smoke, and chemicals. We later learned that a drone was destroyed above Terminal 3, where we were staying, and the explosion sent debris flying, which injured several people.

At some point, we joined a group of people, but nobody knew where to go. It was confusing and chaotic. Eventually, we followed this group of people to the customs check-in at the airport. I’ll never forget seeing one of the customs agents open a new line, then yell at us and everyone around us to move through the gate. He had his rubber stamp and was stamping people’s passports as quickly as he could to help everyone obtain a temporary visa for Dubai. He wasn’t even asking people where they had traveled from.

Airport and government staff ushered us toward buses—you could feel the panic and chaos in the area. But we had no idea where the buses were taking everyone. We sat on the ground for three hours.

During that time, we called our family to tell them not to worry. We both had the same looming thought: This might be the last time we talked to them. I have two kids. It was just really scary. Then, missile alerts started going off on our phones.

That confirmed our worst fears: Dubai was under attack.

Eventually, we were brought to a hotel in Dubai’s Jumeirah district. We were supposed to leave on March 3, but our flight got bumped back. Now we hope to leave on March 8. We have a caseworker with the U.S. State Department, and she’s been wonderful, but she can’t even provide much information because it could compromise our safety or the plane’s security. So, we’ve been advised to be ready to travel home with a few hours’ notice.

Andy keeps saying this whole ordeal feels like a weird dystopia because we hear bombs or missiles and drones being shot out of the sky. But then there are Ferraris and Lamborghinis driving by. There are nightclubs with house music and people hanging out by the pool. But then a loud sound is heard overhead, and everyone stops.

It’s a wild scenario, a paradox. But Andy and I are so appreciative of the support of our community back home. I just can’t wait to get back to my wife and two kids. Andy is looking forward to seeing his golden retriever, Louis.

As told to Madison Dapcevich. This interview was edited for length and clarity.