By Lee S. Wilbur

Guy comes into my downstairs office. Cup of coffee in hand. Unannounced. Uninvited. No clue who he was. Just walks in. In our small town of Southwest Harbor, I’d never laid eyes on him. Steps over to a filing cabinet and leans on it, one elbow resting on top.

“Got any jobs?”

If my face wasn’t hanging open in a quizzical look, it should have been. Where did this guy come from? This early. Couldn’t imagine Heidi wouldn’t have reminded me of an interview that morning. Nothing, but nothing ever seemed to get by her.

We’d been working in our new shop going on five-plus years. Built one new addition on the front and one on the side with joinery shop plans drawn for the next. Up to four boats under construction at any one time and looking for new people pretty much on a continuous basis. Anyone at that time, as now, who was/is willing to work can find a job on the “Million Dollar Island”. Only difference with the “70”s and “80”s were many jobs developing from construction in the housing and boatbuilding operations. We were all drawing from a shrinking labor pool of island residents and with deadlines to meet, sales of new boats with Jarvis Newman continually scaling up, I’d occasionally have to hire “in the margins,” hoping somehow the new hire might take hold. Fit in.

Skeptically, I asked, “What do you do?”

“Oh, I’ve done a little bit of everything. Some carpentry, little plumbing. Done some electric too, but I don’t like that as much…too easy to get bitten if you know what I mean.” (followed by a kind of  conspiratorial chuckle). Asked him where or who he’d worked for to get an idea of qualifications. List he reeled off made me wonder just how old he was, it being a tad on the long side. Figured more than a few of the employments had to have been, shall we say, “brief”.

For as many people as I’d been interviewing, and honestly never imagining this business of boatbuilding would have taken off as it had, I’d never experienced anyone quite like this guy. A question made it’s way quickly to the surface, “Would he fit in with our crew, the guys and girl(s), some who were now coming in at 5:30 in the morning, putting in a solid day, then on occasion coming back after supper to work a few more hours.” If he was a “leaner” in an interview, he’d probably be a “leaner” on the line, or perhaps of another variety, a “go-fer” meaning “I’ve got to go find a ……” and return an immoderate time later… closer to “coffee” or lunch break.

Interviewing potential employees I had learned was not just about the potential’s abilities but because they’d be working in close quarters, there was the factor of being able or willing to not only do first class joinery or electrical or fiberglassing, or plumbing, or engine installation, I had to keep in mind how his or her personalities and skills fit in with the rest of the crews’. The individual’s ethics on coming to work on time, willing to work (not just overtime), and also having a resilient personality (guys have a tendency to poke a bit of fun or sarcasm occasionally) all came into play.

And then, there were other situations to keep in mind as we added many terrific individuals to the crew. Office staff for one. Heidi, who singlehandedly for several years did the bookkeeping alone and also shouldered the responsibility of being home when our children, Ingrid and Derek, got off the school bus at day’s end , needed to add at least one and perhaps two individuals to help in her office.

Around this same time, Heidi had called down the hall toward my office. Hers being on the other end.

“Step out in the hall for a minute. I have something to show you.”

I did, and she was holding a roll of paper.

“What’s that?” I asked, as she let the roll go running down the length of the hall.

I picked up the end, looked it over and immediately let out a “Holy S…” in amazement.

“W-2’s”…number of employees on our previous year’s payroll. Point being: she was going to need some full time help if we kept this momentum up.

Sometime later, light blinks in my mind. Flickers…stays on. High School….OJT program. Perhaps there were a few young people at the regional high school who’d be interested in leaving classroom and earning a few dollars while getting hands on education. My good friend and mentor himself, Les King, was still teaching so I gave him a call. He outlined some ideas and gave a thumbs up to talk with the principal.

We were not only able to set up an afternoon schedule for a few students interested in building skills but a young lady, Cheryl Mcintire, who now takes care of all the accounting at Wilbur Yachts  signed up to work with Heidi as well. And, there were several others who came on board. Andy Davis worked for us until he graduated and became a valuable employee for McEachern lumberyard and then McEachern Hardware store in town. Our head painter Albert Farley whose daughter Lisa joined the program became a skilled varnisher and painter. His son Scott, developed joinery skills, took over the joinery shop and later went on his own and opened a very successful joinery shop. John Fernandez son, Anthony, also in the program went on to open his own boatshop. I could name several others who came with us and not all on the High School program who went on to have outstanding careers in their chosen fields

This was an interesting time I think for all of us. We were able to work together, young and older; not to say everyone hired worked well or stayed or didn’t have to be said “good by”. Our goal was turning out a great product we believed in. And, with a crew for each boat, employees knew the rhythm of who did what and in particular sequence.

There was something about this guy though. A niggle. I simply could not summon the courage to hire him. I finally passed. Wrote down his phone number. Said “I’ll be in touch.”

Not fifteen minutes later as I returned to the main floor, whoever’d  seen “leaner” against the file in the office made it a point to say….”forget it, know him. You don’t want that one!!!  Somehow, I guess I just neglected to call him.

Heidi was saved from one more W-2, and I was saved from having to let someone go, a task I never liked.