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.