Getting the Boat to Massachusetts

I made a plan to go get the boat on a Saturday a couple weeks after I toured it. I was trying to figure out what I would need. I knew there was a tire iron and a set of new taillights. And I had taken a picture of the tires but not well enough to get any information off of them so there was no way to know if a store near by would stock them. But it was now or never. I packed up as many tools as I could think of along with a cooler full of grapes and seltzer and cheese sticks and headed for Connecticut. I had 5-6 pieces of wood, two long lengths of rope, a circular saw and power drill, some clamps, all the bungee cords I could find, shims, a hammer, a couple ratchet straps, pliers, a rubber mallet, and a tape measure. Plus my work overalls. I was ready as I could be. Reader, I was not ready.

I made it to Connecticut smoothly and was feeling confident. I know how to change tires - I've changed 4 or 5 in my life. I found a marine store nearby that carries most trailer tires. So I was set. I pulled off the tarp and dove into the work of removing the tire. The only jack I had is the one for my car and it’s designed to specially grab a lip under the car frame. So I found something passible on the trailer and then strapped it to the trailer to keep it from slipping. Because it’s a car jack meant for emergencies only it takes 30-40 cranks to raise the wheel. But I got it off the ground. I slid boards under the axle for safety and was quite smug. So smug I took a picture.

And then remembered I hadn’t loosened the lug nuts on the ground so the tire just started spinning anytime I attempted to remove a nut. I had to lower it back down. 47 cranks later, it was on the ground again. And the wheel still just spun - The tires were too flat.

I tried wedging a board in underneath. I tried wedging a board against the inside of a wheel. I stood on the board. I went to a hardware store to walk around and see if could get inspiration. I tried cutting it (had no idea the inside of a tire has a steel ring). At this point I was texting a handful of friends because they were interested. One of them grew up on a farm and had the farming dad visiting. Their advice: pour coke on the rust lugs. I was not dumb enough to ignore the advice of someone who had spent 50 years on a farm. I also called my dad who is a contractor, and a good problem solver in situations like I was in. He said if he had a second tire iron and it was on grass, he'd put it on a lug and shove it in the ground. Between those two pieces of advice, an idea formed. I went to get lunch and added a coke. I cut a corner out of a board. I poured coke on and ate lunch. And then held the board against a lug with my foot. And it worked. I felt invincible.

Four lug nuts later I had a flat tire in my hands to take to the marine store. I found the replacement tires and in less than 30 minutes had one new tire installed. After I went to the hardware store a second time to buy a new lug nut to replace the missing one. The other tire was wedged in the dirt to the side of the driveway and too close to the neighbors garage for me to squeeze in. I tried moving the trailer - I couldn't. But I had a car with a hitch. I could just attach the trailer and use the car to pull it free. Yeah. Not so easy. Ever try to attach a car to a trailer when you're alone and can only move the car? The things I tried to get those two lined up! Eventually I managed it and was able to pull the trailer out. I swapped that other tire in a hot minute and wheeled it around the driveway a bit to celebrate.

Moving the trailer led me to discover a new problem though; none of the hitch balls I had were the correct size for the tongue on the trailer. So I put all my effort into removing the rusty tongue off the trailer hoping to bring it back to the marine store and find either the right size ball or the right size tongue. It was at this point that Aunt Alice visited again, this time with two cousins in tow - women I had met at various showers and anniversary parties etc. over the years. They had come to see the house one more time before it sold. And though they were dressed nicely offered to help. And I took one of them up on it to help shove at the tire iron to get the rusty tongue off. Then they were on their way and I headed back to the marine store. My trip was not fruitful and the staff was unhelpful. The tongues that would fit the ball I had were too wide. The balls available were the ball alone; I'd have to attach it to the hitch. I had no wrench or vice or anything that would let me do that. But I bought the right size ball and decided I'd figure it out. It was now after 6pm, I couldn't pull the boat, the tail-lights still needed replacing and the old ones were rusted on, and I couldn't figure out the wiring connection to attach it to the car anyways. I was dirty and exhausted.

Here comes Madison again. That very friend who's parents live in CT was visiting for the weekend. I called her for advice - I'm sure I could stay with my aunt and use some of my uncle's tools. But there was an emotional component to that and I was stuck and needed some expertise. I was dirty, hungry, overwhelmed, and laying in the grass at the side of the driveway. Also, the plan was also that I'd do this with Uncle Mike. And he's not here anymore. She said "just come here, dinner is being made and dad can help you". I'm no dummy. I stopped at a Target to get a change of clothes and some deodorant and a toothbrush and headed to spend time with friends.

A solid clean up in the outdoor shower, a dinner and cocktail with friends, and a night of rest in a house that is very familiar to me went a long way to setting me up for a successful day 2.

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One note from day 1. At some point I was fully engrossed in the project - dirt and rust all over my overalls, my face, my shins. Tools and materials just all over the driveway in a way that works in my brain but looks like chaos to anyone else. And this beat up old boat on a beat up old trailer. And then a car pulled into the driveway and a young couple got out. I know most of the family that would be stopping by this house. These were strangers. Who were then joined by a realtor. I had not known that would be a possibility. So I tried to hold myself in a way that "looked" neater. Like, don't crawl under the boat in a weird angle that faces my whole butt towards the window. I can't say I was entirely successful. There wasn't much I could do though so I just kept working.