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| 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.
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| 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 |
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| 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 |
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| 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 |
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| Loading my very first center cut quarry for the loggers. Wayne Clark from Orica Explosives came over to help |
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| The results of the center cut shot, neatly piled up with no damage to the surrounding trees |
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| 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.
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| 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
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