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Labor Day Weekend Open Thread
by turfgrrl
September 2nd, 2007 · 7 Comments
Tags: In the News
7 Responses so far ↓ “Labor Day Weekend Open Thread”
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16 hours without a post on this thread. I’ll make it long. So, how does one get the Harbor Master replaced? Does he have a life mission of crapping on people’s attempts to have a pleasant day?
I’ve been launching my boat that I keep in a city slip at Vets Park for almost a decade. I use inflatables because they’re what I used in the Amazon back in the ‘70’s. I know the crafts better than the back of my hand. I wanted something safe for the kids and something that I could put in a Crown Vic. I would launch it once in the spring when the slips opened and would take it out once in the fall when the slips closed. Each time I would drive up to the launch and ask if I could assemble the boat and where would be convenient. Each time, some old bloke would greet me with the comment, “You can’t launch that here. Use Calf Pasture Beach!â€
“Ah,†I’d reply, “It has an engine and the sign at Calf Pasture…â€
“Assemble it over there by that sign!†was the pleasant reply. I learned to use the facility on cold, rainy days when the coots would stay inside.
What does this have to do with the Harbor Master, you’re asking? One bleak, Fall morning, one of the gents came up and said, “Please hurry up. I have no problem with you working on your boat here but the Harbor Master is coming by and he’ll have a fit if he sees you.†Hum, my instinct to seek out foul days was right and I was able to avoid crap. Almost…
One late afternoon, my boy and I were cruising up the river and we saw an old guy trying to assemble an inflatable at the launch. When we returned a few hours later, he hadn’t progressed at all. I pulled over and yelled, “Why don’t you put it back in the truck? I’ll come by after work on Tuesday and I’ll get it into the water for you!†He yelled his thanks. We exchanged phone numbers and on Tuesday we had it launched. All was fine and dandy except for the next year…
My comrade decided to launch on a late spring weekend. His organization still wasn’t up to snuff but his heart was in it. The launch took way too long. The Harbor Master arrived and approached me. He laid into me like I stole something. I explained that I wasn’t the boat owner but just a helper and that the owner was just nearby at his truck. No matter, he continued to berate me. He put his face in mine and said that Inflatables need to be assembled at the very far end of the parking lot, near the park entrance. I was to pick up the boat right then and there, carry it over to the far end of the lot, finish it, and carry it back. Hoping for some sympathy, I said that the boat was nearly ready to launch and that we would be out of his way in a few minutes. With a smile on his face he announced that he would give us both a ticket the moment the boat hit the water because it didn’t have a valid registration sticker. “Wow,†I thought, “What a vindictive SOB?!â€
I refrained from pointing out the fallacy in his threat which was that I don’t drop the motor onto the craft until it’s in the water. No engine on the boat the moment that it hits the water, ergo no registration needed. Why carry the weight of the boat and the motor? … and I’d be more than happy to paddle it over to the owner’s Vets Park slip and deal with the engine later. I was saved from having my ass hauled off in front of my five-year-old by the owner returning from his truck with the current year registration stickers. Not to be left without inflicting some humiliation, Mr. Harbor Master marched my colleague into the shed to pay a launching fee.
When I talked to my buddy some time later and remarked about the Harbor Master’s behavior that day, he replied, “Oh, that! It’s no problem. Once he learned who I was, he called to apologize.â€
So, Greenpeace, if you’ve read this far, here’s a comment on your Ryan Park rant. It ain’t the votes. It’s who you know.
What set me off tonight on the desire to have our illustrious Harbor Master seek employment someplace else? After all, he’s lauded in the papers.
Last winter, I bought my boy a rowboat with a small engine and a trailer. He likes sitting in the bow while we putter up the river. Now I use the launch on a regular basis. I use the trailer to launch the inflatable, too. I dreaded the spring day when the launch staff would arrive. Pleasantly, the group there this year is far, far, far better than in the past. No old sailors claiming to have been on four sinking Navy ships and telling me to wear a life jacket. Uh, why am I the only guy here wearing one? I start pleasant chatter while being inspected for the launch sticker. I ask for instructions and seek to launch away from the larger boats.
This last Saturday, my brother and his son visited for the first time to see the Norwalk Harbor. My wee boy wanted to show off his boat so off we went. It was a great day. Out near the islands we ate wonderful pork from the restaurant near Fishermen’s World. We returned at high-high tide, put the boat on the trailer and left. On the way out we watched a man smash the tail light off another’s trailer as he parked.
Sunday morning my wife came in from picking up the newspaper and handed me a ticket that she found crammed deep under my wiper. It was for parking illegally at the launch. I took it and went to the park for an explanation. I was told that I had parked in the 15 minute-only section. It’s near the entrance to the park along the embankment. Same place that I was once told to assemble the boat. I asked if it’s illegal to park there then why was I directed to that place just the week before? I had words with the staff at the shack, went home, shaved, and went to church. The only small consolation that I had was that it was agreed that I do ask permission each time that I arrive.
I was still fuming as I drove off to church. I explained to my wife that I try to understand what the regs are at the launch but that they are always so arbitrary and changing. It’s a Catch-22. Perhaps they started reading the definitions of “service†from the bottom? She opined that it wasn’t the staff’s fault. She thinks that they have two bosses, Parks & Recs and the Harbor Master. Impossible position, we agreed. She pointed to the Harbor Master as the obvious enforcer of arbitrary rules. Guess that I owe the staff an apology for ranting at them. I’ll deliver it tomorrow.
After church, my boy said that he prayed. About what I asked? He said that he prayed that the Harbor Master would spend six million years rotting in Hell. I replied that he should make his prayers for things to make the world happier. He said, “I did. Six million years of happiness.†I smiled and said that I would settle for some rules that I could understand.
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Seems that some folks just don’t know who the hell pays their salaries. They have no conception of the difference between the LETTER of the law and the INTENT of the law. That is dangerous.
Some people become Bureaucratic little dictators and need to be taken to task for their actions in the local papers.
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Too bad they don’t post the rules, so everyone knows what is expected - including the harbor master. He had no right to light into you or anyone else.
An explanation is all that is needed, but that man LOVES the sound of his voice. And the louder it is the happier he gets.
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