Drill Bits and Dynamite Part Three

 I'll try and get through this quick......so we can get to the good stuff.

That's me. the future mover of mountains

For the most part, the blasting biz on the Coast was a roller coaster ride of no phone calls and no work ( no money ) , and tons of good work and fantastic money. My favorite bits were doing good work in super challenging situations. Building logging roads was always fun and I loved the people that I worked with, and the customers who appreciated the work and paid their bills on time, all good.
 At about eight years into it, I could see that the business as it existed wasn't feasible any longer. The cost of doing business was sky-rocketing. Insurance premiums went through the roof every year after 911. The cost of drill parts,bits, rods and drill rigs themselves all went up, as the prices paid for work to be done stagnated or fell backwards. The choice was simple, get out of the business or spend the money to go bigger. I ran the numbers backwards and forwards, and in the end decided to stop. I couldn't figure out a way to justify the risk of bigger debt, with so many unknowns piled on top of a soft economic outlook in the next few years. In 2005, I decided that by the spring of 2006, I would bail out of the contract blasting business even if it meant working at Burger King to make ends meet.

Getting ready to blast beside this waterfront house. The chainsaw is for taking down the tree. This job was memorable for several reasons. The customer was a super nice guy, one of my all time top ten. I got to work with Rob McCourt, who ran the hoe, that makes it fun and easy. People in the high rent waterfront community never raised a fuss and would come to watch and chat. Lastly, my back hurt so bad on this job, in the morning my wife had to help me get my boots on and tie them

Working on the Gibsons Bluff, this time surrounded by pissy neighbors. Memorable, because it was a very challenging job, and we came in ahead of schedule and under budget, and the customer still whined about the bill, and had to get chased for the money

As if hand-plugger drilling isn't bad enough, rock drilling with a gas powered Pionjar or Cobra drill is great way to make you wish that you chose another profession. This is at a Sakinaw Lake cabin, where we couldn't get the bigger gear into

Loading my very first center cut quarry for the loggers. Wayne Clark from Orica Explosives came over to help

The results of the center cut shot, neatly piled up with no damage to the surrounding trees

My first shop out in the Secret Cove Area, with my first employee, Ivo

The Transition to the End
 I started to take on only low risk customers and people who were likely to pay in full and on time. That's a great idea in principle, but it also eliminates quite a few jobs. By the time I got to this point, I was just so tired of chasing customers for money, it was just one of the things that needed to done. Near the end of my planned time in the biz, still with no new ideas on the horizon, a great job surfaced.
 A rich businessman wants a site blasted for a huge new house on the waterfront. I know his son from previous work and it all went well on that job. Plus I know the builder quite well, and the excavating contractor was a long time friend. Perfect. Added bonus, the owner announces that if I invoice him on every Friday, he will pay on the following Monday. Paradise by the dashboard lights. What more could a fella ask for? Move the gear in and go to work.

 Well you could ask for the guy to actually pay on Monday, or the following Friday, or the Monday after that. Fuuuuuuck !!! Tons of great reasons why the money didn't arrive ,but the short version is, he promised it and it's not here. Since this is likely my last job in the contracting business, I decide to make a stand. I packed up my gear and went home. I told the son who was handling things locally, bring money and the problem is solved. He came back with, "Well come on back and I'll arrange for some money to get sent up" ( from the Vancouver office ). I responded with, deliver the two weeks of money owed and it's a deal. A couple of days later the money arrived and back to blasting we went.
 Invoice again on the Friday, and at the end of business on Monday, no dough. Nobody answers their phone, no owners or their representatives to be found.
Fuck me, how long is this going to go on for?
So, I pack up my shit again and cart it all back home. On the weekend, the builder, super nice guy, offers to pay the outstanding invoice himself. I am so fucking stubborn sometimes. I replied to the generous offer by saying that the customer is sitting on millions of dollars, he can pay his own fucking bills. ( I could have easily taken the contractors money and called it good....but nooooo, that would be too smooth.
 One of the owners sons, hand delivers the money to my house later in the next week. His comment was "You don't have to do this you know, after all you know you'll get paid in the end." I was tired of the bullshit and completely and totally undiplomatic. " If a man says he's going to pay on Monday and doesn't, what more do I really need to know about what he will and won't do?"
 You know, normally in business you play along to get along, especially with the high rollers. This was near the end and I had no tolerance left for anymore money shenanigans.

 A new work week goes by, all goes well. It's a big house, so it's turning into a multi-week deal. Invoice on Friday one more time, and on Monday....on Monday...nothing. No dough, no customer. Holy Fuck! can you believe this bullshit?...Well guess where I went?
Home, home on the range,
where the beer and the cantelope play
Where seldom is heard an intelligent word and the sky is not cloudy all day
One more time.Everybody sing ......

 On the weekend, someone phones and says that the money is getting mailed up to me. Fine, when it gets here in my hot little hands, I'll be back. The builder phones and makes his offer one more time. I turn it down one more time. ( fill in the blanks here, stupid, stubborn, pig-headed , all of the above )
 I relax at home, work on the yard, ride my motorcycle, do a bit of painting. Generally just kicked back and waited for the money to arrive. The builder calls and says that the schedule is being set back by the delays in blasting. From my end it's simple, pay the money, get the work, not a hard one to figure out by now. And it's the rich owners money that I want in particular. (Maybe I missed some part of business relationships 101, but this is making sense to me at this point.)
Magic Happens
 I go the mailbox in Sechelt, and the envelope from the owner is there. Perfect. I drive over to the bank to deposit the check. Whistle a little tune, all is right with the world today.
 I open the envelope and.....it's for half the invoiced amount! Half!....not all of it... Half!....FUCK...what the fuck is wrong with these people ...Really????after all this bullshit, you're gonna send me half!!! HOLY FUCK...I have complete raging fit in the cab of my truck...they are gonna waste all these fucking days and then send HALF!....I can't even see straight by now, spit on the inside of the windshield, pounding on the steering wheel.... the meltdown is total.
 At the very moment, when I was at the peak of pissed off ( would have been fun to watch from the outside...someone with Tourettes having an epileptic fit in a pick-up truck)..
"Oh honey, that poor man, should we call an ambulance?
"No it's OK, he 's a blasting contractor, that's just the way they are."

 My cellphone rang .
 A somewhat familiar, but not quite, voice asks "Is this Mike Pearson?"   "Yup"
" This is Jean Beaudin from Peter Kiewit and Sons....we are going to be starting up the Sea to Sky job and we were wondering if you would like to interview for the blasting superintendent job?"
  I didn't even hesitate one second, didn't ask how much money was involved, nothing. Don't care..
 "I'm in, when do you want me to come down?"
 "Anytime is good, we aren't set up yet"
 I'm not letting this one cool down. "How about tomorrow?, I can be there at lunchtime"
 "Sure, no rush though, it can be later in the week if you want"
 Oh buddy, there is such a rush, ....a rush like you have never seen before.
 One more time my life is transformed by a phone-call. My rage is gone, dissipated, washed down the drain.
 A big drunk monkey grin is plastered all over my face.
 This is my ticket to ride.
 I throw the check in the bank. A brand new and improved mind-set is in place. I have just been given a way out, and it doesn't involve burger flipping. Next is the call to the builder, yes sir, you sure can write me a check for the balance, that would wonderful thank you very much. Have a nice day.
 And right on schedule, it's the early spring of 2006, and the end is in sight.

This is what it felt like to get the call from the Sea to Sky people

Next few blasting biz stories

The end of work on the Coast
The start of the Sea to Sky Highway Job
Landslides and helicopters
How I blew up an ocean reef and never went jail
Setting off 28,000 lbs of explosives within the city limits of Squamish

and....more diving for dollars stories
plus....things I didn't learn about sex when I was a kid
my personal favorite....the penis injury sagas

On becoming a Doctor of Dynamite Part One

How on Earth do you go from working as a dock builder in Secret Cove to supervising the blasting on the hairiest section of the Sea to Sky Highway? I'm not really sure myself, and I'm the guy who did it.

Building the curved sections of main dock at Secret Cove Marina

Part way through the construction of Dick Clayton's boathouse for his 53' Fleming

 It began innocently enough with a need for more income. My prized gig in the marine construction business was slowing down due to a bump in the economy and I had four kids, a wife and a house to support. As fate would have it, one of the customers at Secret Cove Marina, was in the blasting business and wanted out. Don Fowler owned Thunderbird Drilling and Blasting, based on the Sunshine Coast. Don did mostly residential work, that is working close to houses and other structures, it requires a high level of skill to successfully work in this end of the game. He had enough of the drill and dynamite business and was looking for something new.

Don Fowler  the guy who taught me the blasting game

 The basics of rock blasting go like this. For whatever reason, a customer needs to remove or break up a solid piece of rock. Maybe they want to build a house on a rock bluff, or put in a road, sometimes the rock needs to be broken....just to make broken rock....what a concept ! The broken rock can be used for fill, or rock walls, road building etc.

Me pushing on a hand- plugger ... eating dust, right outside a log house to make room for an addition

 Now 99.999% of the time, this means that you have to drill into the rock formation, so that explosives can be placed down the borehole and then initiated to shatter the rock. Drilling is the hard and challenging part. Think of it this way, take a perfectly good drilling machine of any type, and then smash it against the rock repeatedly until the drill wins. Sounds like you might break a lot of expensive stuff, doesn't it? Welcome to the world of rock drilling. Holes of various sizes are used, depending on the restrictions of the job. Working close to houses and waterlines and such, demands small-bore holes, like 1 1/4" to 1 3/4" generally, and a lighter explosives load....with a bit more distance you could go to 2 1/4" holes and more explosives in each hole.
 The drilling can be done by air powered "hand-pluggers"  that look like a jack-hammer, but are actually percussion drills. From there, the sky is the limit, Air-tracks, tank-drills, various high speed hydraulic drills, excavator mounted drills and on up the line. The borehole sizes going up as well, 4" to 16" and even larger on special high volume shots. The name of the drilling game is to drill fast, accurately and get to the depth desired without destroying too much of the gear. The drilling pattern, depth and spacing is usually based on bore-hole diameter and the desired outcome. Holes too close together will create uncontrollable results when  detonated. Holes too far apart and not deep enough will result in shots that don't break at all and have high bottoms when dug out.

This is pretty close to real life in the drilling and blasting biz ... except these boys behave better than most driller/blasters.

Loading a shot for a house foundation

The owners decided that they needed more room after the construction began, so blast and split inside the form work

Working with Ted's blasting and Midway Power on a road improvement project

Logging road work for Sechelt Creek Contracting

The explosives part of the game comes in several distinct components. The "boom" part can be dynamite, which is a nitro-glycerin based explosive. An emulsion product or synthetic explosive made without nitro-glycerin or any number of fun goodies made from ANFO (fertilizer and diesel fuel).
 There are a variety of ways to initiate the explosives, depending on what kind of results are required, cost restrictions, or the conditions the work is being done in. Then it comes down to the method used to set off the detonator system and that in itself can take many forms. Reliability and safety is at the top of the list for all components.
 In residential or "controlled" blasting, the deal is drill it, load it ( with just the right amount ...not too much ....not too little )  then cover the shot with heavy rubber blast masts weighing several tons apiece, stand clear, take cover and press the "go " button. A heavy thud should be the result, with a good heave of the mats. And Shazaam! broken rock with no damage to the surrounding structures. How do some blasters manage to wreck things when such a good and reliable method exists? Awesome question. The mis-guided and delusional contractor that believes he can do the job faster and cheaper by using bigger holes and more explosives per hole. This will only cause excessive fly rock and seismic shocks. None of which the neighbors will appreciate.
 But enough about that, let's tell some stories.

Swinging blast mats on to the shot right beside the Squamish Highway and the power-lines with fiber-optic cable

Stacking blast mats in  the very early days of the Sea to Sky job

Don Fowler, you gotta love him. He tried desperately to talk me out of the blasting biz. His exact words were "Mike , you really don't want into this bullshit business". I didn't acknowledge a word he said, I wanted in so bad I could taste it. I was blinded by dollar signs. On many a shitty day after that, I wanted to phone him up and let him know how wise his words were. Days when every fucking thing went wrong and then you go home to find the tax department has left a nasty-gram on the answering machine, and a parts bill for a gagillion dollars comes in the mail.
 So, seeing that I wasn't about to quit this craziness. Don went about the chore of teaching me how to drill and blast. I must say that for the record he taught  me well, years later in much larger, complex and downright high risk situations, I used the rules and standards that he emphasized.  So Don, I haven't seen you in years, I hope you are well, and thank you.

Excavator mounted hydraulic rock drill, the highest point of the Eagleridge cut ... it goes down 110 ft from there

Tamrock Ranger 800 rock drill   fast drilling and comfortable for the operator   West Vancouver and Upper Levels highway in the background

A day for the record books.
 Every word of this next bit is true.
 In one of the previous stories, there is a photo of me and a crew building a boathouse for Don McLeod's powerboat. This occurred during that time, and Don McLeod becomes a player also.
 I was in the marina parking lot assembling the trusses for the boathouse. A local business man, a Coast mover and shaker drives in. I've known this guy since I was in high school. He pulls up and calls me over. We chat up a bit, catch up on the latest gossip. Then , out of the blue he says, "Michael my boy, we should go into business together. You want into the blasting game and I wouldn't mind backing you on that." yadda yadda...let's talk and away he goes. I'm stunned. Stunned and elated. woohoo! blasting biz here I come.! Oh no but wait . it gets better.
 No word of a lie, as that guy drives out, another old friend drives in. They pass each other in the marina parking lot. This fellow is older and retired,  and sitting on more money than God himself. He pulls up and calls me over to his car. He starts off slow with asking about the family and what not, before breaking into, Michael, you know if you ever need anything of any sort, anything at all, I'd expect you to call me first. I'd appreciate it if you asked. Now because this guy doesn't have a strong back or a pick-up truck, I'm thinking that he is offering me the use of his check book. with in reason of course. That goes with out saying doesn't it? Right. And the scene is set for big changes to come in my comfy little life.

A blasting job right smack dab in the middle of the Upper Levels Highway, just before the ferry terminal for a sign base

 I worked with Don Fowler for about two years, learning the biz and improving my skills. A meeting on the street changed the course of my intended plans, which was to buy  Don's blasting company and allow him to move on. An offer came to me from a local developer who was going to need extensive blasting work to put in roads and house sites. His deal to me was, get set up and come and do this project, but he doesn't want Thunderbird involved.  These local players all have there reasons for such decisions, some of them can be petty and downright mean. I went to Don and asked him to sell me his company so that we could both get on with things.