Hurry up and wait

Back in paradise....... I returned from San Fran after staying there from December 20th until January 17th. Why Jan 17th? I had to be back for the excavation that was penciled in to begin on the 20th. Stop laughing, that was the plan as discussed with Edwin, the cat owner and Mike, my cement guy. In true island fashion the work started on February 1st. The usual excuses were offered, lost days because of rain and "I ran into a lot of blue bitch"-- blueish rock that had to be hammered out. Admittedly if there was rock it does slow things down and the cost rise accordingly from the original $150/hr to $250/hr as they now have to hammer the rock. Dynamite is not allowed here.

Jose arrives on the big 'cat'

Anyway, as the delay went on day after day Edwin finally arranged for a another operator with a different company. Jose ended up being a great guy. With his broken english-he's from Santo Domingo-and my broken spanish we got every thing done. It is truly remarkable the deft touch that they operate these large machines with. You have to see it to believe it. More important however is how fast they work. If they are good, and Jose was, they are very fast. I basically told him that he should treat the property as if it were his. Don't do anything I tell you if you wouldn't do it on your own lot. Trust me when I tell you this, when that big cat comes down the cul de sac and starts cutting through the jungle on a downhill slope close to 30% it's showtime. There is no going back now. Every thought, plan etc is second guessed. It's everything you can do to convince yourself that you have thought this through. Any mistakes will leave a scarred mess. Thankfully the fear passes with the snap of the first big tree and reality sets in.

The plan.......Our lot is as close to a rectangle as you can get. 110 ft wide, 200 and change long with a down hill lie. Thank god for the down hill part as I would later find out. After clearing the property lines with a machete twice over the past two years I had the topo memorized. Day after day of walking every square inch of the property, hugging every tree of course, I knew where everything had to go. In fact you start to realize you don't have much choice. I also learned the value of drinking water in copious amounts having nearly killed myself from heat exhaustion the first time I cleared the lot. How close did I come? I ran out of water on the bottom of the lot and kept working for about 30 minutes in thick jungle. Then very quickly, shockingly quick, I had dry mouth and didn't feel too good. The heat became overwhelming. As I struggled up the mountain, slipping and sliding, clinging to stumps I created, I started peeling off my clothes. I barely made it to the top where there is a steady 15 knot trade wind breeze but there was no water in the jeep. I could not see straight. I laid down in the fetal position. Let's just say i woke up naked on the ground in the shadow of the jeep a few hours later. As I was passing out/falling asleep I didn't know if I was having a heart attack. At that time there was no cell phone coverage up on Bordeaux. I could not believe I was going to O.D after only a couple of hours of work. Now I travel with several gallons of water in my truck at all times drinking about one quart per hour when I work. I have no idea if I had heat exhaustion but whatever that was I don't need a repeat.

I had Jose plow straight down the hill along the right side along the property line. You can put your driveway along the boundary, only the house has to be set back 15ft by code. About halfway down we put a rounded turn to the left towards other side. Then reaching back and up the hill he excavated the site. I had him take all the trees, including some below the site, and create a downhill berm where he then put all the dirt/rock from the excavation. Basically I created a small front yard--admittedly on top of fill compacted by a 120,000 pound monster --which has proven to be a great staging area for the work going forward. More importantly, a guest using the lower bedroom won't fall to their death as they step off the patio. We have stayed places where that would occur. Yes, I know, ultimately I will have to build a retaining wall to prevent erosion etc. Right now I have the steep slope covered with a 20x80 6 mil tarp to prevent a mudslide/severe errosion-standard San Fran construction. Next week or so I'll plant some bougainvillea at the bottom to get some roots going.

the front yard

Originally I thought I'd have a main driveway to the bottom cottage with another spur higher up for the upper cottage. Cancel that idea. After looking at the 30% degree slope luge run I created to the bottom, I realized I'd probably be the only person that would go down it. After cutting in the spur for the upper cottage I decided to terminate the main driveway just below it by putting in a 12ft retaining wall to create a small level parking area and psychic crash area for the faint of heart. The cleared area below the wall to the bottom could become an instant banana plantation! By driveway standards down here it's not to bad. Why put the driveway on the right? If we get the lot next door I'll use the same driveway with another spur and if we don't get the lot, the new owner for a number of reasons I won't bother you with, will want deeded access to ours. Two things he will have to do. One pay us a small reasonable price and secondly, but more importantly, I get to place his house. Got to protect those views!

this pic doesn't convey the real slope of the driveway. the plywood is for the retaining wall

the upper driveway spur

So the first stage of the excavation is now complete. Cost--19 1/2 hrs-- at $160/hour with a $400 cat delivery charge. Thankfully we encountered no significant rock problems. Jose will have to come back to back fill the cottage and the driveway retaining wall. At that time we will also finish sculpting the driveway so I can pour it. For now everything has to be hand carried down the hill to the site--it's to steep and the soil is to loose, even for a four wheel drive vehicle.

By the end of the first week in February we were done with the excavating. Now the footings. Previously I may have mentioned that I'm storing my rebar and steel etc, all that's not in the two containers, down on the flats by Coral Bay at Elvis's. Well, you guessed it, Elvis had just gone on vacation for 10 days just as I called to arrange for delivery of my rebar. Hurry up and wait! Towards the end of the last week in February, Larry the fireman who owns a dump truck delivered my six bundles of rebar to the top of the cul de sac. With that, Mike and crew showed up to form the footings for the slab. While I may be the owner I get to do all the shit work. As I mentioned, thank god for down hill builds. Three tons of rebar later, Cleon and I started cutting it. Luckily Cleon weighs over 300lbs--you need to be to bend number 5 bar. As the pictures show there was a lot of bending. While they did routine things I put in the waste and vent pipes for the downstairs shower and toilet. Total time for the footings, three days. I then put in the keyways and the waterstop by myself over the next couple of days. The waterstop was a royal pain in the butt. Meanwhile I put in for the inspection so we could pour the concrete. Mike does such precise work the inspector simply stood at the top of the ladder and gave me the permit. Next the concrete.

Hurry up and wait. Get in line. This time I didn't mind the delay. Months before, we planned for Denise to come down in early March for ten days. Talk about getting lucky. The delay started two days before she came and ended a few days after she left.

The boss shows up!



As usual, Fran and Roger were most generous letting us use their beach house.

Losing my St. John virginity.

Here on st john there are two concrete companies, and this is just a guess, serving 50 or more projects at any one time. These would include houses, driveways, retaining walls and road building to name a few as the building boom continues unchecked. Under normal circumstances they put about 8 yards in a truck and having about 10 trucks, you get in line. After paying for the concrete at $213/yard I was told eight days. The pumping truck would be another $1000. It turned out to be nine days. Not bad, a one day delay you might say. Think again. Here's how it works. The cement company doesn't call you and tell you are not getting your concrete on the day planned. You find out late in the day of your supposed delivery date. Guess what--that crew sleeping in the shade for six hours, they get paid. The next day you start the drill over again. In my case I was lucky. I was the first delivery of the day. Five hours later the slab was in and the workers went home. The pumping truck at $1000 turned into $1390 when they saw the downhill slope and distance. "Ya man", as he said, that's a lot of pipe to hump down and up! It was about 200 feet.

All things considered it cost me about $900 more than planned. Here abouts they say I lost my virginity pretty cheap.

the crew

the pour

the wild goats or deer left their initials that night

the final product viewed from the original driveway

Why are delays here endemic? To start with you have only the two cement companies I mentioned. Next you have the roads, then the rain and the mud that follows for a day or so, one inspector and finally the crews. Every day it rains it puts all those projects back one day. With one inspector for the whole island he only gets to so many sites per day. The crews--most try to work two or three jobs at the same time. Why? To stay busy. As each of the stages of the work take place they jump to other sites. While I may be waiting for an inspection they are at another job pouring concrete. The next day they may jump to another to build forms. Each piece can delay the next. The concrete pour is at the top of the food chain. This dance will start Wednesday for me if Mike and crew show up to start framing the walls. Then they leave as I wait for the inspector. Afterwards Mike comes back and closes up the walls. I then schedule for concrete and Mike plans his schedule accordingly. The system works with the local building caveat " twice as long and twice the money".

Another observation. With the bull market in housing and construction the locals, like everywhere else, start to mistake the bull market for brains. Calls are not returned on time, excuses are made--knowing that its virtually impossible to trace, as shown by the process above. These and other small abuses will get corrected when a bear market comes. When they need work they will change their tune and things will seemingly run on time. Until then I enjoy the breaks. It gives me all the time I need to review all the books, dvd's, plans, landscaping ideas etc that I have. I still haven't found a plumber or electrician to pull my permits. I had thought I would be able to do those as an owner builder but there seems to be a difference of opinion on this one. I still have time.

My profile as I wait. At least I'm not taping my fingers yet. I took a header down the property early on consequently the wrist brace.

During the delays I do all the work a crew would do. Over the last two weeks I cleaned out the keyways, disassembled all the temporary rebar, hauled 50 sheets of 3/4 inch plywood down the hill from the containers along with 100 16ft 2x4's. I brought down about 100 sticks of rebar. Also hoped over to St Thomas by auto ferry, $40 roundtrip, to home depot for that 10x20 white canopy in the pics, MSI for 600 10" plastic snap ties, the plant depot to enquire about having plants delivered from florida etc. The point being there is plenty to do at about five hours a day. If I'm lucky I get to the beach once a week--late afternoon.

a local creature

My ebay truck continues to be the tiny engine that could--except once, or so I thought. On the previous entry--my drive to work--I showed the road in pics that I take to Coral Bay. Along the route just past Trunk Bay, the road goes steeply up through a series of 'S' turns. It was here that I had my Forrest Gump truck repair episode. While climbing in the middle 'S' in first gear the truck bucked for a second. I thought perhaps it was the gas I filled up with the day before-- 93 high octane. Usually I use regular but the price for the 93 was 15 cents under regular. What? When I asked the attendant at this newly remodeled independent station how that could be, he said it was still part of the orignal shipment whereas the regular was a new shipment at the new higher market price. Wow. These folks are to good to be true--especially since there are only two gas stations in Cruz Bay. Well anyway when the truck bucked I figure I had been had and I'm burning water! The buck immediately led to a complete loss of power and serious smoke from under the hood--I mean all power, no steering, no brakes, you get the picture. Next thing I know I'm going downhill very rapidly in reverse with a loaded truck taxi waiting at the bottom with some very big eyes looking up at me. How I thought of the emergency brake I'll never know. It worked. Hard over on the wheel, three feet at a time I backed down the hill to a turn out. When I got my heartbeat back I was propped up against a wood guard rail and the truck was filled with smoke. No real damage to the bumper. You have no idea the mental beating I proceded to give myself. " You stupid mother this and mother that. What a-hole buys a truck on ebay. Now look what you have gone and done. The whole construction project will collapse while you try to fix the truck. Where will the parts come from, how much will they cost? You stupid peice of sh*t, all this to save a few thousand." It went on and on. Finally I opened the hood. A park ranger drove by and asked if I wanted him to call a tow truck there being no cell phone coverage where I was. Yes, please do. With me, opening the hood is the same as hitting the side of the tv. When the smoke cleared and the engine cooled I noticed two things on the third go around of blankly staring at the engine. Although I had no power the engine light and and something else were faintly lit on the dash. Being clueless I figured I must have burnt out the electrical system and that's why the guy sold me the truck. You know, he saw it coming! When I disconnected the battery the ligths went out. Rummaging around the engine--because that's what your supposed to do?--I did notice where the smoke had come from. A large copper wire had melted its entire sheathing off which dropped on the engine block causing all the caustic smoke. The wire had also melted through. I knew it, I had somehow fried the entire wiring system and the truck was totally useless. With that I put my head on my arm leaning on the open window frame and proceeded to die. When the crying ended and the self loathing stopped, I opened my eyes while looking down. As god is my witness, there at my feet was a four foot peice of heavy sheathed wire. It was thick copper no less. It had been there for years pressed in old mud. You have to be kidding me! When the laughing stopped I figure what the hell I could at least replace the burnt one and see if the lights on the dash go out. Who cares what made the wire burn out, I haven't clue. Going around the truck I see a small black wire at the battery is also broken, hmmm I never noticed that before. In fact I had replaced the battery months before when the fog lamps under their black covers had been on and killed the battery overnight. Anyway when I attached the battery cable the faint lights on the dash were off. You have to be shitting me! I find a peice of copper wire on the ground and I did something auto related that worked! With that I went all in and turned the key. It started! While jumping up and down alongside the truck the tow truck pulled up and a new friend, Dwight, stepped out. I told him the story and he told me why. That battery I had bought was dimensionally smaller than the original and over time it had slid back and forth in its housing finally snapping the small ground wire off the terminal to the side of the truck. That then put all the ground current on the larger copper wire at the back of the engine which finally melted through. It was the best $40 dollars I ever spent as I paid him for showing up plus I now know a good mechanic! The other good news, St John finally has its own tow truck service. Forrest Gump lives.

She doesn't mind the delays. My girlfriend here on island.


While I wait I sit here.............

Mike showed up today, Wednesday, and we started framing the inside walls. Eight days late but on time relative to the new date he had given me!