This is an article that I published several years ago in a local boating group's member letter.
I hope you enjoy it.
How Not to Spend Your Boating Summer
This is a tale, kind of along the lines of “How I Spent My Summer Vacation”. You know those silly stories you wrote in grade school to give the teachers some time to gather their thoughts about what to do with you for the rest of the school year. Well hopefully by putting this down in print, I can prepare some of you (you notice I said prepare and not spare), intrepid boater, for the inevitable repair nightmare. And just like a nightmare it does end. Sorta ... The names of dealers and individuals have been omitted to protect the innocent and the guilty alike, but mostly to avoid having to take calls from lawyers at my home.
It all started innocently enough, the Admiral (Lisa) and I had been talking about getting a boat for coastal water cruising. We had purchased a deck boat for lake boating, but learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t built for coastal cruising.
Flashback – severe thunderstorm warning, a mad dash back up the Neuse river for New Bern, water crashing over the bow, kids screaming hysterically (or was that me?), finally making port ….What? Where was I? Oh yeah.
So back to the boat show we went. The Admiral and I perused the cornucopia of boat offerings and settled on a nice Cabin Cruiser model that fit our budget. I dutifully signed where it said, “Sucker” and the boat changed ownership to us. Well, the bank and us.
As with anything built by the hand of man, it wasn’t perfect and required a few minor repairs. One of the minor problems was an annoying leak into the aft berth. The dealership tried off and on that first summer (2001) to find it and fix it. Since they weren’t able to duplicate the problem with a water hose, problem fixed, right? Not exactly!
Now we enter summer 2002, where we find our Captain “Without a clue” (me) and the Admiral deep into the planning stages of our summer of fun with the local Power Squadron. On re-commissioning our boat for the upcoming boating season, the Admiral noticed a little dampness on the cushions in the aft berth. I suggested that it was probably just some moisture build up from the winter layover. The Admiral decided to keep an eye (eagle eye?) on the problem. On our very first outing of the season, it rained kittens and puppies. Of course, the leak into the aft berth made itself known. The Admiral notified the Captain immediately that our ship was not up to
Fast forward almost two weeks. Thursday afternoon, I have voice mail from the dealership asking me to give them a call. Excellent! Our boat must be ready. I place the call with a little warm glow (must be the scotch. Single malt?) for the people who’ve labored over my boat for almost two weeks.
“Leak fixed?” I asked.
The polite young man on the other end of the phone replies, “Where’d you say that leak was again?” I can tell by the sounds emanating from the phone that bubba has just moved his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other while patiently waiting for his answer.
Now, in my mind, I’m screaming expletives that would peel rust from the USS North Carolina. I quickly gather those unspoken thoughts and cram them back into Pandora’s box, then take a deep breath and to the polite young man on the phone I say, “It’s in the aft berth area, near the entrance.”
“Well, we couldn’t get it to leak with a water hose test. Are you sure you got a leak?” To be damn sure, that’s not scratching noises coming through my phone. I snatch the phone away from my ear and stare hard at the receiver. Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me? Does anyone have fuses for a 42 year old, 175 pound adult male? I think he’s about to blow one or possibly a gasket.
With as little growling as I can possibly manage, I reply, “Yes! I’m sure! Check the cushions. If you’ve had any rain down there lately, they’ll be wet.” More toothpick noises.
Please Ma Bell, just let me reach out and …
“Okay, we’ll check it out.” Click.
Uh oh! What do I tell the Admiral?! I let her know about the conversation with the polite young man from the boat dealership, to which she replies, “I want him stripped of his rank, flogged and keel hauled! Then he can get his butt busy FIXING MY BOAT!” I try to calm the Admiral by suggesting we wait a week and call back for a status update. She reluctantly agrees to rescind the order for a flogging and keel haul.
Fast forward one week. Time to make that call. No warm glow this time (must be the lack of scotch, single malt or otherwise).
“Hello? This is Brian. Can you give me an update on the repairs to my boat? Sure, I’ll hang on.”
Eventually, a nice lady picks up the phone and says, “Brian? Sir, we had to order you a new door. It’s going to take about two weeks for it to be sent here from the manufacturer in
Like I have a choice! “I guess so. Is replacing the door going to fix the leak? Is that where the water’s coming in from?”
“Oh, yes sir! When we get this door in, you won’t have any more problems!”
“Great! Thanks.”
I tell the Admiral what the nice lady said. Unfortunately, the Admiral’s response isn’t suitable to print here.
Fast forward another week. A phone call from the dealership, “Brian? Hi. Uh sir, the door is in, but it’s the wrong color. It’s white and should be beige. We’re going to have to order this door again.”
It’s looking dicey for the Cape Lookout Rendezvous. The Admiral is about ready to order a full broadside on them for effect. After much yelling and screaming, wailing and gnashing of teeth (most of it coming from the Admiral), I tell them to forget the door repair, I want to use the boat over the weekend.
“No problem. We’ll have it put in the water on our dock and plugged into power and water.”
The Admiral and I head for the coast Friday June, 21st and load up the boat with everything we need for the weekend. We arrive too late Friday to make the 4 hour run to
Saturday morning, June 22nd, dawns bright with sunshine and blue skies. After the required caffeine consumption has brought our systems up to operating temperature, we check on the aft berth leak. It appears to us that this leak has gotten worse and we decide to wait for Service Manager guy to get in to show him the problem. After looking at the evidence for a while and with much head scratching, he agrees that replacing the door is not the solution for this leak, although it still needs replacing. I also remind him that this is the same leak he chased the previous boating season and that the Admiral is getting miffed. “Not a good thing.” (a la Martha Stewart)
After agreeing to leave the boat tied up to their dock on Sunday, June 23rd , we proceed with our plans for the Cape Lookout Rendezvous. The rendezvous was a blast (nicely chronicled by Ed) and all to soon we found ourselves headed back home, minus our boat.
Fast forward two more weeks. For those of you keeping score this should be about mid July, the boat was dropped off over the Memorial Weekend in May. The Admiral gets an e-mail from Service Manager guy, they think they’ve found the source of the leak. In a seat cushion that’s bolted to the forward bulk head, left of the door. They’ve removed the cushion and cut the bolts out of the bulk head that held it in place. Now all that remains is re-ordering the cushion, fiberglassing over the original bolt holes, drilling new holes and installing new bolts in the bulk head and finally re-installing the new cushion. Piece of cake, right?
By the end of July they’ve completed the work and even delivered the boat to our home.
As of right now the entire state of North Carolina is in a drought and we haven’t had enough rain to know if the leak’s been fixed.
Oh well. There’s always next year’s repair …. I mean boating season.
