He and a friend spent a couple of hours working on the engines while I continued to strip hardware and wood from the deck. Rotting wood made it easier as I began to simply pry screws, and the wood to which it was attached, away from the deck; it was that rotted. The deck was being replaced anyway, so what the hell.
It was the third day of spring, but no one had notified the wind whipping across the lake and blasting us with frigid air. Snowflakes were falling, as well. No matter. I was working hard and staying warm. Dakota, on the other hand, had retreated to the truck and was curled up on the back seat.
At some point, the owner of the marina, a noted psychopath, came by to inquire about our activities. This was the first human we’d seen in our three trips to the marina; not uncommon for the time of year. After she realized she knew who he was since his family had been docking there for over twenty years, he explained the nature of our efforts to rehab the boat and buy a slip from her to keep it there in the coming year. She did not know the previous owner, she said, and drove off.
A little after noon, Nathan announced he was ready to fire the engines. I pulled out my video camera, filmed him pouring high octane fuel into the carburetor of the port engine, and then reach for the key. “Here goes,” he said, and turned the key.
There was an initial rumbling, the sound of an engine trying to catch, but then suddenly it exploded to life. Nathan had the throttle wide open and the noise that came from the engine, smooth, loud and powerful, was that of any hopped-up ’68 Corvette might make if its owner was revving the engine at a light to try and impress nearby gawkers. Standing on the deck just behind the engine, I could feel the power of the pistons as they roared to life. Amazed at how good it sounded, I found myself with tears in my eyes and thinking that my dad would be so pleased. In fact, I felt his presence there with me, smiling and nodding approval.
The starboard engine did not run so smoothly; Nathan determined the plugs and points would need some work, but it did turn over and run. We spent the next couple of hours completing our tasks of removing all hardware from the decks and by 4 p.m., were packing up and heading for home.
Two days of long hours in the cold had taken its toll. I was tired and once home, didn’t even consider a workout. I realized how important good mobility was to climbing around the hold of a boat though as I was cleaning out around and behind the engine. It’s like the crawl space under a house; a couple of feet of height and something bumping you at every turn. I need some more stretching and increased flexibility if I’m going to continue this work.
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