When Your Engine Conks Out

Posted on July 26, 2009

When the engine on your boat – or company – dies, what do you do? Here’s a case that may inspire those who worry they’ll lose their engine before arriving in port.

In my last newsletter, my column titled Full Speed Ahead But Going Nowhere I got quite a few e-mails back, and this one gave me a flash back. Harry wrote,

“Robert,

I enjoyed Full Speed Ahead But Going Nowhere very much. As a diesel boater, I may make a bit better headway against the current, but it may consume all my fuel, (i.e. cash) before I can get to the next port.

This recession is tough: Your article helps put it in perspective.

–Harry”

Harry’s comment made me flash back on one of the funniest stories from my ninth year of life that maybe, just maybe, holds some ideas for Harry or others who worry they’ll lose their engine before arriving in port.

In 1969, my birth-family had bought the best ski boat we could afford, a used boat we called, “the blue boat.” It had a bad habit of conking out. Many of my attempts as an eight-year-old to “get up” out of the water and skiing were aborted when the blue boat would conk out. We carried tools.

One time it thoroughly conked out, but since we were upwind of the boat ramp, we took the boat hook, taped it into an upright position (a mast), attached two towels and sailed, if slowly, to shore.

Later that summer, after a month of dependable performance, we dared to venture down one of the long forks of the lake in the afternoon. Then, after tricking us into trusting it, the outboard motor conked out. Twenty minutes into my father’s best efforts to revive it, he decided to go to plan B, which was just conceived.

My three elder sisters and I donned lifejackets and went overboard. We swam to the front of the boat, grabbed the tow rope, and began swimming for the boat ramp. Might as well put the big family to work! Or maybe Dad was just tired of us saying, “So what are we going to do, Dad?”

We began making some progress. We would have gotten the boat to the ramp before sunrise for sure.

It was so late in the day that we were sure no other boaters were still on the water to offer us a tow, as had happened often in the past. But to our surprise, we heard the lovely grinding of an engine coming our way from around the bend.

The pontoon tips of the patio boat popped into sight, and on board was a nun in full habit and a priest, in collar. After blinking a few times to be sure we weren’t dreaming, we waved. (This lake is deep in a forest, with no paved roads.)

They saw a nice family, with children in the water towing a boat, and of course, they offered assistance. We kids got back into the boat, they took us in tow, and their 20 horse outboard tugged us along slowly, albeit much faster than what we kids were able to deliver.

But my father didn’t stop staring at the stupid, dead outboard attached to our blue boat. So, mustering all my 9 year old consulting skills, I asked him a question. “Dad,” I said, “What would you have done if the priest and nun hadn’t come along? What would you have tried next to get the outboard working?”

He thought, and said, “I’d have pulled the spark plug, cleaned it, re-gapped it, and given it a try.” I looked at him and nodded. He listened to his own words, then went for the tool box. I assisted.

The sound of our outboard roaring to life did not immediately attract the attention of the priest and the nun. But when we pulled up beside the patio boat to thank them they were puzzled, then returned their end of our tow rope, and we zoomed off, pulling the boat out, just as nightfall arrived.

Key takeaways for those of us running companies and feeling like our engine might conk out:

1. Throw the kids overboard. This could be rephrased into, “Look at repurposing key assets in new ways to help the business achieve key objectives. It could also be interpreted to suggest that excess assets be sold to raise cash, but I’m sure glad my father didn’t think about selling us kids for a new outboard (or did he?).
2. Hope for divine assistance, or a miracle. This could be interpreted as staying optimistic and positive. I can tell you that from my experience, it almost always feels worse than it is, and many businesses survive what initially seemed un-survivable. Things can work in for the better in ways you’d never expect. For example, could it have been that the reason our outboard started working again was that the priest and the nun were praying for its health, and our work on the spark plug was actually ineffectual?
3. Look for new ways to make headway. Get creative. Now is the time to make towels work as a sail, use swimmers instead of an engine, and to accept towing from a priest (and a nun).
4. Don’t buy a used blue boat in the first place.