Back in the early '70s, I had a hankering to own an airboat - you know, like the ones in the everglades, but smaller. One day on the job during a lunch summit meeting, a fellow let slip he had an airboat sitting in his back yard just wasting away. Well, I just had to have it, and after a little bantering back and forth, I agreed to pay him $250 for it. He told me of his experiences with it, like rescuing fishermen in their regular boats that failed to get off the mud flats in the local saltwater slough before the tide stranded them. This is centrally located on the edge Monterey Bay, CA.
You see, as long as the mud has a shiny wet look to it, the airboats will glide along easier than on water. However, let the mud get that dull glazed look to it, and it stops you real quick. Those poor stranded fishermen who got stranded and needed a tow off the mud flats were in for a scary tow. The prop generates a nasty hurricane force wind that'll blow a fisherman right out of his boat in a heartbeat. They would have to duck down in their boats and hope for the best. Oh, and they usually got pelted with a little saltwater that felt like a spray of bullets.
Anyway, after I got the airboat home and disassembled, I had to sandblast the trailer and repaint, and also re-fiberglas the boat. This airboat was shaped just like the older standard runabouts but with a tiny keel, and had 2 full width seats. The boat was fiberglas over wood. The power was supplied by an old Lycoming 125 hp aircraft engine that wasn't all that balanced, and would shake the copper fuel line until it cracked. I had to carry a flaring tool with me in the boat at all times. Never did wise up and run a neoprene gas line. The prop was a 66" wooden one with brass molded over the leading edges.
I finished the boat and air rudders in cornflower blue, and the safety guard and trailer were white. When I finished it, a friend decided we should see how fast the boat would push the pickup and all up the street. That was a bad idea, and I was lucky the people who owned the house at the end of the street at the "T" intersection weren't home at the time. My friend drove the pickup, and I manned the airboat. He got turned around and backed me up against the curb at the end, put the pickup in neutral and gave me the high sign. I fired it up and put the hammer down, and away we went. I made the mistake of looking back, and that house was completely hidden in a cloud of dust! It pushed the entire rig up to a whopping 15 mph in about 3/4 of a city block.
The racket brought just about everyone out of their houses, and I lost a lot of status on my street from that little escapade. Wow, you should have seen the dust cloud that hovered over the entire subdivision! My first trip to the Kirby Park end of the Moss Landing slough was a disaster. Some poor fisherman was just about ready to step out of his little 12' aluminum boat when I fired up the airboat to go down the slough and blew him right into the water with his pole in one hand and tackle box in the other. I stayed down the slough for a couple of hours before returning to the park. You'd think I would have learned a good lesson from that one, but no, a fellow wanted to ride in the airboat, so I told him ok.
His brother would be first, so he hopped in and got settled while the other brother went to fetch their ice chest. About the time that brother returned with ice chest in hand to set it down on the upper end of the boat ramp, I gave the motor only about half throttle to mosey out into the channel for takeoff. That was way too much throttle, and the brother on the boat ramp was blown over twisting his ankle between the concrete slabs, and the ice chest went bouncing across the parking lot spewing beer cans and ice cubes like crazy. Some of the ice cubes bounced clear across the large parking lot!
I was beginning to realize that an idle would be sufficient near the parking lot. One of my favorite tricks was to scare an unsuspecting passenger by cruising down the slough and bumping the sloping mud bank a couple times which made them hang on tight. Then I'd head out into the middle of the channel and head straight for the bank. The look on their faces when we bounced up onto the mud flats was priceless. Then, at full speed a quick crank of the wheel would spin the boat almost all the way around. Another crank back the other way would do the trick, and around you go. By this time their knuckles were white from gripping the grab bar in front of them on the dash, and they were ready to dock.
It was a lot of fun to chase the kildeer around on the mud flats. When the boat left the water onto the wet mud, it was like releasing the emergency brake, and settled down for a smooth ride. I let my wife drive it only once. She put us backwards down over the edge of a 10' deep ravine in the mud flats. scared the snockers out of her and made me a little nervous too. The prop had to dig its way out of the mud at the bottom, and after about a minute at full throttle, by the grace of God it moved upwards and over the top of the edge. I was sweating that one out. A real bonus was the added push of the airboat when pulling boat and trailer out of the water on a slick ramp. I only rescued a couple of boats that were stranded on the mud flats during the time I owned it. I sold it after just a couple of years, but it was a blast (literally) while I had it.
Hope you liked the ride,
Terry B
You see, as long as the mud has a shiny wet look to it, the airboats will glide along easier than on water. However, let the mud get that dull glazed look to it, and it stops you real quick. Those poor stranded fishermen who got stranded and needed a tow off the mud flats were in for a scary tow. The prop generates a nasty hurricane force wind that'll blow a fisherman right out of his boat in a heartbeat. They would have to duck down in their boats and hope for the best. Oh, and they usually got pelted with a little saltwater that felt like a spray of bullets.
Anyway, after I got the airboat home and disassembled, I had to sandblast the trailer and repaint, and also re-fiberglas the boat. This airboat was shaped just like the older standard runabouts but with a tiny keel, and had 2 full width seats. The boat was fiberglas over wood. The power was supplied by an old Lycoming 125 hp aircraft engine that wasn't all that balanced, and would shake the copper fuel line until it cracked. I had to carry a flaring tool with me in the boat at all times. Never did wise up and run a neoprene gas line. The prop was a 66" wooden one with brass molded over the leading edges.
I finished the boat and air rudders in cornflower blue, and the safety guard and trailer were white. When I finished it, a friend decided we should see how fast the boat would push the pickup and all up the street. That was a bad idea, and I was lucky the people who owned the house at the end of the street at the "T" intersection weren't home at the time. My friend drove the pickup, and I manned the airboat. He got turned around and backed me up against the curb at the end, put the pickup in neutral and gave me the high sign. I fired it up and put the hammer down, and away we went. I made the mistake of looking back, and that house was completely hidden in a cloud of dust! It pushed the entire rig up to a whopping 15 mph in about 3/4 of a city block.
The racket brought just about everyone out of their houses, and I lost a lot of status on my street from that little escapade. Wow, you should have seen the dust cloud that hovered over the entire subdivision! My first trip to the Kirby Park end of the Moss Landing slough was a disaster. Some poor fisherman was just about ready to step out of his little 12' aluminum boat when I fired up the airboat to go down the slough and blew him right into the water with his pole in one hand and tackle box in the other. I stayed down the slough for a couple of hours before returning to the park. You'd think I would have learned a good lesson from that one, but no, a fellow wanted to ride in the airboat, so I told him ok.
His brother would be first, so he hopped in and got settled while the other brother went to fetch their ice chest. About the time that brother returned with ice chest in hand to set it down on the upper end of the boat ramp, I gave the motor only about half throttle to mosey out into the channel for takeoff. That was way too much throttle, and the brother on the boat ramp was blown over twisting his ankle between the concrete slabs, and the ice chest went bouncing across the parking lot spewing beer cans and ice cubes like crazy. Some of the ice cubes bounced clear across the large parking lot!
I was beginning to realize that an idle would be sufficient near the parking lot. One of my favorite tricks was to scare an unsuspecting passenger by cruising down the slough and bumping the sloping mud bank a couple times which made them hang on tight. Then I'd head out into the middle of the channel and head straight for the bank. The look on their faces when we bounced up onto the mud flats was priceless. Then, at full speed a quick crank of the wheel would spin the boat almost all the way around. Another crank back the other way would do the trick, and around you go. By this time their knuckles were white from gripping the grab bar in front of them on the dash, and they were ready to dock.
It was a lot of fun to chase the kildeer around on the mud flats. When the boat left the water onto the wet mud, it was like releasing the emergency brake, and settled down for a smooth ride. I let my wife drive it only once. She put us backwards down over the edge of a 10' deep ravine in the mud flats. scared the snockers out of her and made me a little nervous too. The prop had to dig its way out of the mud at the bottom, and after about a minute at full throttle, by the grace of God it moved upwards and over the top of the edge. I was sweating that one out. A real bonus was the added push of the airboat when pulling boat and trailer out of the water on a slick ramp. I only rescued a couple of boats that were stranded on the mud flats during the time I owned it. I sold it after just a couple of years, but it was a blast (literally) while I had it.
Hope you liked the ride,
Terry B
