5. He works the deck for the first time.

Bobby took the lad to the stern where there was a small towing winch only about two feet tall wound with cable only about three quarters of an inch in diameter. It really was a small power winch by standards. The end of the cable was attached to one of the cables running down the length of the tug that the lad had noticed on his way aboard. It was now that he noticed the other side had the same cable but this one was shackled to a length of rope. Bobby went to the engine room and started another generator. When he came back up, he used one of the levers on the winch to pay out cable and directed the lad to pull the new slack forward toward the bow.
“Don’t drop it over the side!” he cautioned loudly. “It’ll get caught in the wheels!”

The lad heard and nodded and then began pulling the cable up the deck. When it came tight he set it down and made his way back to the stern where Bobby was arranging the soft line end of the other cable onto the stern bitts at the rail. When he was satisfied with his preparations, he took the lad up to the bow. Now he could see that they were approaching a barge at the shipyard. Two men in coveralls were standing still on its stern waiting for them.

While Bobby was busy setting a line on the bow rail, the tug eased up to the barge and there was a loud and deep squeaking noise as the thick rubber fenders rubbed against the painted steel of the barge. The deck stopped under the lad's feet and he swayed for a second to hold his balance. Without speaking to each other, Bobby and the bargemen set to work. Bobby passed the line he had been preparing through the large chock ring on the bow and the bargemen placed it on the cleat in the center of the barge’s stern. When the line was up, James eased off of the barge and turned the wheel a little. With a few little bounces on and off the barge, he had the bow centered on the width of the barge. Bobby made the line off in quick and sturdy figure eights on the H-bitt in the bow of the tug. When he was finished he turned to the lad.
“Stay here. When James turns the tug toward these guys, pass them up the cables.”

The lad nodded and Bobby disappeared to the stern. He looked down to the eyes of the cables and saw that each one had a short piece of line spliced to it. He was prepared to do this job. The tug started drifting to the port side so he grabbed the line on the port side cable eye. The man on the barge clapped his hands and extended them as if to receive something. The lad coiled up the line a bit and tossed it up to him. The man pulled the eye up and over the side of the tug and began to pull it toward him hand over hand. The lad knew that he should guide the cable over the side so it would fall suddenly and jerk the man over the side. Bobby had earlier secured the cable to the stern bit so he motioned for there to just let the cable go all the way over the side; it wouldn’t get away. The man on the barge finally reached the cable eye and laid it over the bit on the corner of the barge. Now Bobby put more turns on the bitts and James stepped out the side door of the pilothouse to watch him as the stern of the tug now swung slowly to starboard. As the cable came tight, Bobby eased out some of the line to allow the boat to keep swinging. The lad saw what was happening. They were trying to get the tug in a straight line with the barge. When this was accomplished, James waved and Bobby made the line fast. Now he took a position on the other side of the stern where he could see the lad on the bow.

The men on the barge asked the lad for the other cable eye. He obliged and then heard Bobby yelling again. He saw him waving at him to step inside cable and realized that he might have been trapped between the bulwarks and the cable as it paid over the side. Once the barge men saw that he was out of harm’s way, they began pulling the cable. This pull would be further than the last so it took both of them. As they pulled, Bobby paid slack with the little winch. As before the cable eye was laid on a bitt at the corner of the barge and the cable was tightened with the winch bringing the cables on both sides to a point known as “fiddle string tight”.

The bargemen disappeared up to the head of the barge and there seemed to be a lull in the action.

“What now?” he asked Bobby.

“Not much for a few minutes,” he replied. “Those guys will handle the lines on the barge. They don’t like us up on their barges much. They say that things come up missing when we’ve been up there. Not to mention all the lawsuits that usually happen if the tug guys get hurt. No hair off my ass. We can wait here till the cables come back in.”

The two sat where James could see them if he needed them and they smoked cigarettes and drank some more coffee. Then the cables came in. Then the cables went back out. After more cigarettes, the cables would come back in. And then? The cable would go back out. This continued until the lad lost track of the time and the number of barges he had made up to. He felt very comfortable with this procedure now and didn’t have to be reminded of anything.

“You’re doing pretty well,” Bobby told him during one of their breaks. Most guys don’t pick this up on the first morning.”

The lad thought about that for a second, wondering how anyone could have difficulty with a few simple tasks. “Thanks. I don’t look like a goof then?”

“Oh, no!” cried Bobby in his singsong voice. You’re probably going to work on tugs for a while."

The lad smiled. That’s all he wanted was to work on tugs. For a while? That was a bonus. It looked like he had just received some sort of seal of approval. Pretty good for one morning but there would be many other mornings to test his skill.

He smoked his cigarettes, slung his cables, and watched the ballet of barges in front of them.

4. He takes his first tugboat ride.

After the power cable was wound up and stowed, the two lit another cigarette and stood around waiting for James to show up. The lad looked around some more and peered into the companionway to get a look at the space below. It was a little dark, with only the glow of incandescent bulbs to light it but he made out piles of line and boxes of parts. There was a small chest freezer on one side and he could see the end of a workbench.

“Is that the forepeak?” he asked.

“That’s what that is. We keep just about everything in there. I’ll show you later.”

The lad nodded and continued inspecting the small tug. As he was looking up at the pilothouse he could see the reflection of a Ford truck pulling up to the edge of the dock. He turned and joined Bobby in watching the edge of the dock. Soon a man appeared. It was the skipper, James Graff. He looked young, maybe in his thirties. He was well dressed compared to the two aboard, wearing khaki pants, a colorful polo shirt, and clean deck shoes.

“Good mornin’, jemma-nems,” he called out in his best local accent. He was smiling and made the hops easily down to the deck carrying a duffle bag over his shoulder. He went straight to the lad and extended his hand. “You’re our new hand. Follow the skinny guy’s lead and you’ll do all right. Then to Bobby, “OK. Let’s get going’.”

Bobby started walking down the deck. James started climbing the forward ladder to get to the pilothouse. The lad suddenly realized he needed to follow Bobby. When Bobby saw him he made a motion that indicated that he was going up to the dock. “Take off that stern line, I’ll toss it in.” He climbed up and was quickly at the cleat holding the eye of the stern line. The lad took the turns from the bitts and Bobby lifted the eyes off. “Just give it a good sharp tug when I toss it.” The lad did just that and the line flew into the boats and landed in a heap in front of him. A neat trick he thought of it. “Get the head line next,” he called down to the lad. Figuring that a head line must be the same as a bow line he headed forward. The same technique was used to remove it and then the spring line was taken in.

James held the bow of the tug against the dock for a second or two longer to allow the skinny to board again. They backed out of the berth, turned slowly, and when the bow was pointed across the river, the engines eased up to speed and they were underway. The tug pushed its way to the middle of the river and took a left to head under the big bridge. The city was getting closer now. He had been on the water long enough to have sailed this harbor but he had never been this far up the river. Now he could see the other side of the city. He remembered viewing the tugs from the concrete shoreline and now he knew what he had looked like to the crew of those boats. The tug stopped and the engines were idling. They were sitting still in the water so he could continue looking at the city scene.

He realized he was alone and looked around a bit till he saw Bobby and James talking in the pilothouse. There wasn’t much animation. The two would occasionally motion toward a nearby shipyard so it became obvious that the job was going to be over there. The shipyard sat across from the city and was full of people moving about on the ships and docks. There were countless barges with such a wide variety of equipment and ship part on them; he couldn’t imagine how anyone kept track of it all.

Bobby tapping him on the shoulder and waving him in to follow as he hurried to the stern interrupted the lad’s thoughts.

“We have to get the pushing gear ready. It’s going to be a bunch of barge shifting for these guys”, he said jerking his thumb toward the shipyard.

Without a clue as to what was to be done, the lad followed.

3. He gets his first start.

Bobby stood at the coffee maker, trying to sip coffee that was too hot to drink. He winced every time he put the mug to his lips but he was persistent. Try after try he gave it and continued burning his mouth until he finally got a big sip of coffee to go down. He smiled with satisfaction and offered the lad some coffee, pointing to the mugs hanging on hooks over the sink. Then he exited through a door leading forward. The lad sipped the hot coffee more carefully than his new crewmate and looked around the galley.

The room was no more than ten feet or so wide and maybe that long. Another watertight door was opposite the one he had entered with. In the center of the room, mounted on the forward bulkhead was the galley table. It had bench seats along each side and a television set was mounted above the table as high as the low overhead would allow. Against the after bulkhead was a kitchen stove with only three burners, a sink with a few cups and some plates in it, and a refrigerator. He carefully opened the door of it and peeked in. There were a variety of condiments in bottles and jars, a Tupperware pitcher, and some lunchmeats packaged in plastic wrap. The freezer held a few packages of meat and a large plastic tub of ice cubes. There were about ten ice cube trays stacked to one side. In a wooden cabinet on the port side, there were many canned goods and a couple of loaves of bread. While he was looking in this cabinet he noticed a narrow wooden door in the corner. He didn’t bother to open it but he did wonder where it led.

The forward door opened and the lad turned to see the skinny come back into the galley. Now he was wearing work clothes- jeans, a holed t-shirt and high top basketball sneakers. He retrieved his now cool cup of coffee and sat down to the galley table where he reached for an ashtray and his cigarettes. The lad was relieved to see this so now he could sit and have a smoke himself. Bobby lit a Marlboro and the lad could see that the fingers on his right hand were disfigured. They were all there, but the tips of the index and middle finger were deformed and bulbous. They looked like the fingers of the alien movie character E.T. He noticed that Bobby could use them well enough but when it came to delicate work like holding his cigarette, he had to move it back to the second knuckle to get a secure grip. When he took a drag, it looked like he was covering his mouth up to cough. There was now telling what had happened there but the lad made a mental note to make sure he avoided an injury like that.

They talked for a few minutes. It turns out that Bobby was living aboard the little tug. He was down on his luck and the old man was charging him far less than he would pay for even a local dive to stay there. It was starting to sound like Bobby did a lot of drinking and the lad figured this didn’t help his current shortage of luck. They traded stories and the lad learned that Bobby had been in the Coast Guard in some foreign country. Interesting work and good service for men who liked to drink much. Drinking was a theme with Bobby.

"Well? I better get her started up before James gets here. He hates to wait," Bobby said as he was putting his cigarette out. He got up from the table and disappeared through the door in the corner before the lad had a chance to try and follow him. He listened to the clanking a banging sounds coming up through the deck. Soon an engine turned over and started. It was a bit loud and he could tell it was a medium sized diesel engine. Then the lights went out. In only a second or two, they came back on. The boat was now on generator power. After a minute, the lad was brought to his feet, startled by a loud noise that sounded to him like an elephant trumpeting a warning inside the boat. The lad had no idea what it was, just that it had made engine work. The sound happened one more time and although he jumped a bit, he wasn’t as shocked as the first time. Bobby reappeared and waved him to follow. They went back outside and Bobby clambered up to the dock, disappeared for a minute and returned with a shore power cable coiled up on arm. As they stowed in the forepeak companionway door, the lad asked him, "What the fuck was that?"

“It’s the cable that gives us power at the dock," Bobby answered.

"No. I mean the loud-ass noise from the engine room when you started those engines."

“Oohhh!" laughed Bobby. "You never heard air starters before?"

“Nope."

“You better get used to them. There’s a lot more noises than that around here.” Then he talked to himself a bit. "The old man can find ‘em green, he can."

They continued coiling up the cable, Bobby chuckling the whole time about the air starters. The lad didn’t want to be called green out loud, and he certainly didn’t want to be laughed at, but he could see there would be more questions as the day went on.

2. He meets his first boatman.

The lad was to board between 0600 and 0630 so the boat would be ready to shove off at 0700. He woke early without the alarm clock and drank coffee with a cigarette on his porch until it was time to drive down the yard. His drive took him through neighborhoods he hadn’t paid any mind to on his first drive down to the interview. Then it had been light and while the surroundings were far less than inviting during the day, they were absolutely hostile after dark. He would never be down here in previous days. This was surely no place for the car to break down.

He pulled up to the gate and, just as the young lady had promised, it was dummy locked- only appearing to be locked. He opened the gate and after he had driven through, he stopped to return it to its former state, supposedly sealing the yard from the hostiles outside the tall chain link fence. He drove past the familiar trailer that served as the outfit’s office. A rutted gravel drive took him around a short bend to the dock. After pulling into a parking place, he turned off his engine and sat for a minute to have another cigarette and look at the surrounding yard.

This place looked not much more pleasant than the neighborhood outside the fence. The grass was grown up all around the fence line and there were occasional scrubby bushes growing in the debris of old iron parts that probably came from large machines from past days. There were a couple of shipping containers and large tanks. The boom of a barge crane stuck up from the dock. He could see a barrel with the remnants of a fire in it, evident by the dull glow from the top. Beside the fire was a figure, a little disheveled man smoking a cigarette, staring into the barrel. The lad would have to pass him as he walked down to find the boat; might as well do it now.

He climbed out of the car and gathered his cigarettes and a lighter. He made sure to get his keys and check the door locks. He looked for one more task to perform before he left his car to look for the boat. There was none. It was time to shut the door and walk on down to the dock. As he made his walk into the earliest of dawn he could now see the dock better. The wheelhouse of a tugboat was peering over the top of the barge that served as a floating dock. That would be his. He was amazed and walked toward it easily as if he were drawn toward it. Then he was aware of the creepy man by the fire barrel staring at him. He nodded uneasily to the glaring figure and just continued his walk to the gangplank that led to the dock barge. He kept walking toward the tug.

When he got to the edge of the dock, he could see that he would have to step down to the bow and then jump a little down to the pile of line on deck and then step to the deck itself. This needed to go smoothly. There was no need for any excitement on his first boarding. He stepped, balanced, hopped, gathered his footing in the line, and then walked easily down the deck. He was aboard his first tug. She was only sixty two feet long but it looked every bit of a hundred from the way he saw it. What a mess she was, but beautiful to a green eye.

The first thing he noticed was the rough texture of the hull and the houses. She had been painted a lot over the years but it wouldn’t be long before the rust would win its race to the surface. Lines were piled everywhere in heaps. There were cables running along the waist that looked out of place but had a purpose somewhere as there was a matched set- one on each side. He climbed up to the boat deck to get a look around up there and to inspect the wheel house. After he had reached the top of the ladder and stood up on the deck a door opened on the main deck. He looked down in time to see a man climb out of the galley.
"Jeez-is", he whispered to himself. He was looking down at the skinniest man he had met in years. There wasn’t a bit of the man to be missed for he was standing in his jockey shorts, the sun reflecting brightly from the underwear, and his skin which was the same color as the underpants all over. A thick mane of shaggy hair topped off the figure and gave him the look of a cartoon lion.

"You coming down or what?" the skinny man cried out in a high pitched sing-song kind of voice. "There’s no coffee up there." He had obviously entertained the daylights out of himself for he started laughing and never stopped even after he ducked back into the galley.

"What the hell is he supposed to be around here?" the lad asked himself as he climbed back down the ladder. He climbed into the galley door to find the skinny man pouring a cup of coffee from a Mr. Coffee machine. In the small galley, he was face to face with the man. What a friendly face it was too.
“I’m Bobby. Bobby Sanderhorn. But you can call me Bobby,” the skinny man announced. The lad nodded and introduced himself. That was easy. What a relief. He had met his first boatman.

1. He finds his first outfit.

The lad walked into the office of the marine towing outfit dressed in the cleanest jeans he could find, a button down shirt, and some worn, but presentable deck shoes. His hair was pulled back into a neat pony tail and he had put on his best confident face. Sitting in the office were an old man and a young woman. The old man was in a soft parlor chair facing the door as he walked in so the lad gave him a nod for a greeting and turned his attention to the young lady at the desk.

"I spoke to you on the phone yesterday?" he asked.

"That's me. What have you got there?” she responded.

"It's a resume' I've put together". When she heard this she gave a quick laugh and but caught herself. He looked a little confused and didn't know what to say so he just queried, "You don't get many of these here, do you?"

"Hell. We don't get any. It's nice though. It should answer most of my questions.” She read it for a minute. While she was reading, the lad was aware now that the old man had been looking him over. He didn't look over but could see the old man's head moving about as he scrutinized the potential employee. The lad wondered what the old man did around here and wondered why he didn't have anything better to do than just sit around sizing up the visitors. Then he realized that she hadn't asked him anything for a while. She was still reading and flipping the three pages as if looking for something.

"No tugboat experience?"

"No," he answered, "but there's a lot of time on the water in there. Ships and fishing boats. You saw those, right?"

"Oh yeah, I saw. Tell you what. I'll keep you in mind for a call if I can't find our regular hands. You're working now so just sit tight and be ready to come in if you take the call. Thanks for coming in."

"Sure.” He tried to think of more to say to get her to talk to him more. He froze.
"No problem. Appreciate your seeing me.” He turned and nodded to the old man again. This time he got a nod back. He made for the door and gave one last look at the young lady. She gave a polite smile and sat there, still, until he closed the door behind him.

She turned and looked at the old man until she had his attention. "Well? What did you think? He seemed like a pretty good guy."

"He did. Good looking boy, but green. Pretty green. Maybe he should cut his teeth with some other outfit and then we'll give him a call."

"Maybe you should train him and keep him for yourself. How hard is it to keep a good hand lately?"

"I know. As long as I've been in the business I haven't seen it like this. Days before I owned tugs, they was lining up to get aboard one. Now I buy a boat or two and I can't keep 'em long enough or sober enough to work every day."

"That's the point I was going to make. Maybe you should let this one try a day with the little tug and see how he does.” The old man let out a quick sigh. "He could be a keeper.” The old man looked at the young lady with no expression. After a few long seconds, she knew what to do. "I'll see what the jobs look like tomorrow and call him in.” She smiled at him to try and get him to smile back.

Nothing. But she said anyway, "Don't worry. I have a good feeling about this one."

While the two had been discussing the lad's future, he was on his drive home. He was worried that the interview hadn't gone too well. He smoked a few cigarettes and worried that he looked like a college boy in his clothes, that the resume' was a stupid idea. He worried that he hadn't been assertive enough; maybe they thought he was weak. He thought that maybe this tugboat idea wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe he could find a ship. Maybe his new wife wouldn't mind the months away from home, but it would have been nice to work a schedule that was easier on their home life. Maybe he could get used to a day job if he really tried.

Once at the house he told his wife that all had gone pretty well and he would check out some other outfits in the area soon. They had some dinner and watched a little TV. He would have to call his temporary agency and let them know he would be available in the morning. He reached for the phone. His hand was an inch away from it when it rang. "Hello?”....... "Oh. Yeah. I could be there.”....... "Captain's name again?” He scrambled for a pen scribbled on an old newspaper with a broken pencil instead. "Little tug at the main dock. Got it......... No. Thank you........ I will. Thanks again. Bye."

He turned and looked at his wife, smiling broadly. She could tell by the look on his face that the outfit had called. She knew that they would call him. He was good at finding work. She knew this before he left the house that day. She knew that when he drove away, he was driving off to his first tugboat.

Preface.

I should describe what you are about to read. It will make life easier for all of us.

The lad is a real guy. He started in tugboats as a waterman of sorts but had no clue what he was getting into. The people that the lad encounters are all real. I started out using no names but it got too monotonous keeping track of all of the generic characters. So the names you find are made up.

The story you are reading is true. By true, I mean that the events actually happened. It may be that I include the lad in a story that never really happened to him but it was important to add the chapter to the ongoing storyline because it was too juicy or entertaining to leave out. But you can be assured, whether they are out of sequence, containing substituted charaters, or set in different locations, the stories are true.

Finally, BLOGSPOT occasionally has internal errors that make it necessary for me to start the story over. If you ever come in a find the chapters gone, just keep an eye out, I'll begin posting them one by one again. The only thing I'll miss are your comments. Feel free to comment again and again if this happens. I want you all to be included in this effort.

Enjoy. And.....please don't be offended. This could get rough a little later down the line. After all, tugboats are real. The Little Toot world of the tugboat clubs doesn't exist and it never did. These are tough men with tough lives. It doesn't matter how much money they earn or where they come from. They work the tugs for a chance to do as they please for a change.