BOAT TRAILER FROM HELL

              The Boat Trailer From Hell

         The Longfin was a big boat. 33'x 11",  8 tons empty, but by the time I got the davit, swim step, air compressor, anchor winch, net bags and hoses, and fuel, closer to 9 tons. The good part is I had plenty of room, for when I was staying on the boat and she could take some heavy seas pretty comfortably. The bad part was whenever I had to take the boat out of the water it cost me $500 for the boat mover. After I did that a few times, my anger boiled up, because the Harbor Patrol in Channel Islands refused to give me a commercial slip. I admit I could of handled the situation better, during the escapade that led me to blow up in their office a couple years before. I just lost my patience when I recognized they had no intention of being fair and reasonable when it came to commercial fishermen/divers. Especially struggling ones who they just assume go away, and leave the harbor to the rich yachties The private marinas were starting to run credit checks before they would rent you a slip, something I neglected to establish. So I was left with a guest slip, which was only good for a week or 2 before you had to vacate the slip and not return for a week. I will save my diatribe on the Channel Islands Harbor Patrol for another time.

         Santa Barbara Harbor was more user friendly, at least there was a free anchorage for back-up, trouble was all the thieves and lowlife scumbags living in the anchorage on anything that would float would raid your boat as soon as you were gone. Found that out the hard way.

So one day I am browsing thru the trade express when there was a boat trailer with movable axles for sale at a reasonable price. It was rated at 12 tons. When I saw it I realized it had to be built up from the frame to accommodate my boat. But who other than my go to fabricator and welder Keith Whitney, perfect man for the job. He said he could do it, so he was hired. I was paying him gouged out prices for his old beat up hoses and torn up net bags and I am sure he will try and rake me over the coals for this job, as well. Of course he dragged his feet and insisted that the axle be positioned more toward the rear of the trailer. Like the other trailers he had seen with the towing most of the boats WITH OUTDRIVES. I tried to explain to him that with my straight shaft, I would have to have the axle more toward the center, so my prop would clear when I pulled up the boat ramp. That stubborn old goat would not listen to me, even though I proved to be right. Though he would never admit it. He eventually did a half assed job, welding the railings on to the frame and when it came time to pull the boat he was nowhere to be found. Neither was my Diver. Keith explained to me that I should get some old tires to build up the rear of trailer, So I would have clearance for my prop and shaft,since he failed to build the trailer properly.

            So I was by myself, well I had Jamie, she was a very attractive, but wild, young girl, that I had been spending time with, and she liked working on boats. It took a while, and a lot of turmoil before I could trust her, but we finally reached a detente of sorts. It was hot and crowded the summer Saturday I needed the boat ramp for this operation. I had purchased a Ford F250 4x4 pick-up, because I was not sure my F150 would do the trick with the 6 cylinder. I backed the trailer down and there was kids running around and sunburned weekender's and tourists staring at me I was not in the mood. I was dirty from working on the boat, hot sweaty and pissed off. I was barking orders to Jamie, bless her heart, she was such a good sport and so tolerant of my loud foul mouth, on the edge of apoplexy. Of course when I was inching the boat up and checking the clearance waist deep in the water with a diving mask on so I could see. It was a night mare, drive up a foot .. stop get in the water, check the clearance...like that several times, before I determined it was going to take 3 or 4 tires stacked on the rear of the trailer to keep the stern high enough to clear my prop.. I was so mad at Keith and Johnny my diver for being absent, I was determined to make this work. Well sure enough someone called the Harbor Patrol and the officer approached me and asked me to watch my language around the kids. I explained to him that I had $100,000 worth of boat in jeopardy and I am sorry there ears were exposed to my foul mouth, but I said they are going to have to hear it sometime. Those Harbor Patrolman would of loved to arrest me, or at least cited me, but I was not doing anything illegal, just yelling and swearing.

          After I tied the tires down, I finally got the boat out of the water, scraping my prop ever so slightly. It became clear that I was going to have to go very slow on the way to the boat yard, and I was barely going to clear the parking kiosk, was not sure about all the overhead wires, but I had to put my antennae down. I did not want to have to pull my davit out of its sleeve. I waited until about 2 in the morning when there was the least traffic. Thank God I only had to go about a mile to the yard. I inched about 5 miles an hour,barely clearing the telephone wires, but I made it to the yard. Now I was going to have to trust Keith that his forklift could pick up my boat and that he could maneuver it into the tiny spot he finally cleared for me after months of bickering at him to get it done so I would not have it to wait when the boat was ready. I just needed some boat jacks.

100 bucks a whack for 4 boat jacks, but I needed more. Keith got the boat in the yard. I was hoping putting it back in the water would be easier.

          I ended up parking that trailer in the street by the old Radon yard. One morning I noticed it had been hit by a car and there was a license plate on the ground, apparently left by the driver. The trailer was thrashed and I never was able to find the guilty driver.

I thought the trailer was a good idea, I just should have been more careful of Keith who got so greedy, especially when I gave him a free hand to charge me a king's ransom for crappy work and lousy materials.