#20 The Riff-Raff Boatyard

This is a continuation of the story begun in Post #19. For the full effect, try to read that one first before continuing.

Just to recap, we are on an extended stay in Kingston, NY waiting for a new starter motor. Allan secured the services of Dustin and Dave, two local CERTIFIED boat mechanics, self-proclaimed certified “riff-raff.” This is a misnomer because they're really good guys. It's just that their cutoffs, drippy T-shirts, and tattoos scream “riff-raff.” So despite their appearances, we gave them thumbs us. The starter motor was ordered and expected to arrive by mid-afternoon of the following day.

After lunch, we moved Sally W up Rondout Creek and tied up at the Certifieds' dock, home of The Riff-Raff Boatyard. Allan opened up all access to the engine to let it cool down. We're not sure how much that would help. Meteorologists have a label for this kind of weather: HHH; Hazy, Hot, and Humid.

Right on time, Dustin came aboard carrying a box. He got right to work but soon discovered that he didn't have the right wrench. Back to the workshop. Back to the boat. His phone rings. “I'm too busy to get him. I have more than I can handle right now. I'll get my mother to pick him up.” He says to us, “Sorry about that. Still don't have the right wrench.” And once more he heads up the dock.

Meanwhile the travel lift is holding one of them cheeseburger boats. It arrived by Sea-Tow earlier in the day, an all too frequent unexpected job to add to the day's overcrowded work schedule. Seems the Canadian captain cut inside a buoy and hit the rock jetty at the entry to the creek. “Not uncommon,” Dustin said. “When it arrived the two men on board were talking so fast I had to ask them to calm down and talk slower.”

By the time we arrived, the hull and prop had been repaired. The captain was waiting on the dock for the relaunch. His deep tan went well with his blue Hawaiian print swim trunks stretched around his 50-inch waist. Seems Dustin was the only one who could run the travel lift and relaunch the boat. He'd tried to teach Dave how to do it, but it didn't take.

Meanwhile on shore, Dave was trying to remove a boat engine with a backhoe. The dangling engine swung a bit too far. Dave panicked, hit the wrong pedal, and propelled the engine into his friend who was sitting on the now engine-less boat's gunwale. Oops. Change hats Dave, and employ your EMT skills. He thought he'd hit him in the chest, which would have been a real mess. But, his now ex-friend was complaining of pain around his knees. Still, it necessitated a call to the rescue truck, and a trip to the hospital.

Meanwhile, Dustin had gone off to buy a wrench. Soon, we can hear the high-pitched voice of a child zooming around the boatyard on his bike. Dustin returns, followed by his mother and 3-year old son Kasten. That's an unusual name. Seems Dustin's wife is a world champion BMX racer, and Kasten bikes was her sponsor. Cool.

Nanny and Kasten come aboard to supervise. Kasten's first task is to relieve the bubble lite packing material of all its air. His dad removes the old starting motor. It's not easily reached and he looks like he's milking a cow. Nanny goes ashore and Sally takes over. Kasten removes tools from Allan's tool box and sorts them by type and size.

Dave shows up, sensing the need for help on this mother of multitasking afternoons. “What's it need? Is it ready to launch?” he asks. Dustin replies in the affirmative. Dave goes ashore and fires up the engine on the travel lift holding the Canadian cheeseburger. Thankfully, he does nothing more, and returns to support Dustin.

After half an hour, Dustin and Dave leave our boat, trailed by Kasten. Father and son climb aboard the travel lift, drive it onto the dock and lower Moby Dick into the water. “Start it up while you're still in the sling,” Dustin says. The Hawaiian blue whale steps aboard and turns the key. One engine starts, the other does not. Dustin hops from the lift to the boat and removes the engine cover in record time. “Might be just a blown fuse.” Since he handles electrical matters, Dave takes over and Dustin and Kasten return to Sally W. “Sorry this is taking so long.”

A short time later Dave appears. “The starter motor is dead.” IS THIS A COMMUNICABLE DISEASE? “Well, I just can't do anything about it right now,” Dustin says. “I know,” Dave replies. Kasten is now counting the tools. Allan asks him for the hammer and hands it to Dave. Dave leaves. Nanny appears and says that Aunt Laura is going to play with Kasten on shore while she goes to a town board meeting (which she hates). They toddle off. Dave returns. “No go.”

The blue Hawaiian saunters down the dock to feel out the timing of our project completion. He and a friend had planned to buddy boat to New York today. Not happenin'. They were also at the Kingston dock last night, a few slips from Sally W. If that boat had been parked near a nuclear power plant it could have been mistaken for emitting Cherenkov radiation. That's the blue glow seen from spent fuel bundles sitting underwater in spent fuel pools.

Finally, the ADD afternoon is over. Dave has received a call from his maybe friend at the hospital saying that there is nothing broken. Dustin finishes our installation at 7 PM. But his day is not over. We thank them as they move off to fumigate for the starter motor epidemic. Job well done. We'll hire certified riff-raff everytime.

We chug back to the town dock, shower, and celebrate ashore at our new favorite restaurant, Ship to Shore.

Oh yes. The repair bill was very reasonable. Thanks again guys, and Nanny Sharon.

Lessons learned: 

Never judge a book by its cover and be on the lookout for Certified Riff-Raff boatyards.