Some Problems We Can't Fix

The path not taken, and the life wasted.

I spent the weekend on the gulf coast bay, fishing and drinking a few beers with friends. We grade these outings on number of (legal) fish caught, hoping for redfish, disappointed at mullet and especially hardhead catfish.

Our ride of choice is a shallow water 22-footer, made to skim over the snags and sandbars of the coastal salt water flats. When we crank up the mighty 200 hp Suzuki outboard motor, the unmistakable smell of two-stroke fuel and oil mixture never fails to disappoint.

Last Friday morning, though, nearly crushed our enthusiasm. Somehow the outboard trim motor was inop, and without it we couldn’t adjust the angle that the prop meets the water. As any boater knows, that means it’s downright impossible to cruise at speed or avoid the sandy bottom.

But it was morning, so we put our coffee-fueled brains into the problem. Hydraulics are a little trickier than electrics, but both are susceptible to periods of non-use, salt, and heat. Seals deteriorate, oil leaks, and valves stick.

We found the culprit (a leaking hose that we fixed with pocket knives and hose clamps), refilled the reservoir and made ready to depart.

Barely out of the channel, we noticed the steering was sticky. Turning left and right to free it up didn’t help. You’d turn, wait a moment, then the actuators would catch up and swing the big engine. Same in the other direction.

We quickly diagnosed that problem as air in the lines, and some leaky seals on the actuators. After a quick risk analysis including a look at the empty fish box and full beer chest, we decided to press on. The mission must go on.

Our captain was the boat owner, and we’d heard the problems before. Every boat owner on the bay has the same story.

“It’s one damn thing after another, he moaned. I had the boat in the shop for two weeks to fix this stuff, but they never got around to it.”

At our first fishing spot we shut down and had a chance to talk about the very first-world problem facing these recreational boaters. Most boaters are from the larger metro cities three or four hours away — San Antonio, Houston, Austin — and spend a few weekends a year on the coastal bay. They’re professionals, have discretionary dollars, and enjoy fishing.

But it seems that there are very few qualified boat mechanics in the area. The two or three boat sales and rental shops have a very difficult time retaining their skilled technicians. It’s a vexing problem that has no easy solution.

To be sure, the boat engines themselves are more reliable than ever. The modern engines, two- or four-stroke, give little trouble. The problems are with all the other stuff: the “systems” that comprise steering, trim motors, batteries and electrics, hydraulics, bilge pumps, livewell bait aerators and such. That stuff always breaks.

Keep in mind that these recreational boats are not typically used every day. Our use-case is typical: the boat is docked locally, outdoors, and used a coupe times a month at the most. Anybody who knows mechanical and electrical systems knows that they like to be run.

Seals must be used and lubricated, otherwise they dry out. Motors need actuating, corrosion needs cleaning, valves stroked.

And when these systems fail, they are never easy to work on. Many of the boat owners are, let’s say, “older.” It’s not so easy anymore to lay down and reach through a tiny hatch and turn a wrench or replace a valve. These owners have the money and the means to pay for maintenance services. They don’t want to spend their weekend morning cursing a bloody knuckle. They want to fish.

But there are no mechanics.

My friend’s experience is all too common. The boat repair shop hires a good mechanic or trainee. They keep him for a couple of months (rarely more than six months) and then the person just disappears. No calling in sick, no explanation, they just don’t show up.

The shop manager calls around, because he’s been through this before. He got the names of roommates and family when he first hired the young man (and it’s always a young man).

So at 8:30am, when the mechanic doesn’t show, the repair shop manager starts calling around. The responses are depressingly familiar.

“He left, not sure where.” the roommate says.

The family is a little more helpful. “He went to see his friends in Austin.” Austin? That’s three hours away, is he coming back?”

“Not usually,” the mother says. “His friends there are trouble.”

The word “trouble” is coded in shame, meant to say drug addicts, layabouts, petty criminals.

And that’s another mechanic lost, another customer disappointed. And sadly, another promising young man lost to drugs and despondency.

This Substack is meant to provide news about the trades, and help students, parents and policy makers find rewarding career paths in industry.

Every week in my Tuesday Trades feature, I highlight a good paying trade that is open to workers willing to build experience, earn certifications, and show up every day for work.

In the case of recreational boat mechanics, I could easily chart a path to a lucrative career, once a young mechanic had some experience and references. As I drove down to the coast I passed the massive new Cheniere LNG plant near Corpus Christi, built to liquify Texas natural gas for sale to global customers.

The facility will have multiple compressor trains, gas turbine-driven compressors and refrigeration units and heat exchanges and any number of complex control systems making it all work together.

A resume that said: three years at Joe’s Marine Repair Shop, experienced in hydraulics, electrics, motors, etc., would get you hired in a heartbeat at the LNG plant. That career would come with a good salary, a 401K plan, profit sharing, and good health insurance.

If you passed the drug test, and showed up every day.

But what’s happening? What causes a young man to put himself on a path to success, only throw it all away once he has enough money to return to the pit of drug and alcohol use?

I don’t know. We chatted about it, out there on the water. It seems the local guys, the ones with family in the area, some sort of anchor in the community, will stick around, building a career and family.

But those who come from outside, from the big cities, seem to drift in and out, never planting roots and too often just disappear. There’s something about the lack of family structure, adult mentors, role models that is lacking.

I don’t know the answer.

I guess at this point smarter people than me will talk about religion, social media, global economics and the breakdown of family. Whatever it is, it’s a tragedy.

I don’t worry to much about the boat owners. They’ll bust their knuckles, moan and somehow still catch a few fish anyway.

But I worry about the young man who was on the path, taking the right steps, only to throw it all away. I can’t helping thinking about it, and it saddens me.