My First trucking Company (A Tale Of Times Past)

It's not a commonly known fact, but back in the late 1970's, I ran my own trucking business. I've never mentioned it before, but enough time has gone by that the statute of limitations has run out, the witnesses are scattered from one end of the country to the other, and the paperwork trail has been buried so long that not even the finest cold case squad could sniff out the details.

As the 70's drew to a close, I was serving our country on a ship stationed in San Diego, an amphibious transport ship. We were informed that we would be going in for a 16 month long overhaul and drydock period at Long Beach Naval Shipyard near Los Angeles, and one morning they towed our boat up there to begin.

When you go into an overhaul, there are a lot of items on the ship you won't be needing for a while, and they arrange storage for all these extra items. In the finest supply traditions and logic, while we were located south of Los Angeles, the storage facility was south of San Francisco, at the Hunter Liggett Army Base. Gear to be removed from the ship was transported up there and placed into storage.

About 7 months into the overhaul, a decision was made that some of this equipment was needed, and a couple of sailors were assigned to go up with a truck and pick up the equipment. I presented a respectable facade, and was one of the two people picked for this job. In addition, I carried a civilian chauffers license, and had a military drivers license that permitted me to operate heavier than the standard pickup truck. So we went to the base transportation office, checked out a truck, and got ready to head up to pick up the equipment. if i remember correctly, the truck we were assigned was about a 1972 Dodge D-500, 318, 4 speed, an a 12 foot stakeside bed. A truly classic piece of hauling machinery, but it did get us up there.

Upon arrival we went to the location where the gear was stored and went down the list sorting out the items that we were supposed to bring back. As we went on, the pile of gear grew and grew, and eventually we got into the habit of looking at the pile of gear, then looking at the 12 foot bed of our truck. We'd look at the gear, then look at the truck, repeating this action until it became abundantly clear that there was no way all this crap was going to fit in that diminutive truck.

At this point, we had a couple of possible options to choose from. We could load what ever we could, bring ing back a sample of everything, but not all of the requested amounts of gear. or, we could bring back only certain items in their full quantity. Or, we could call back and tell them to send us up a second truck , or even make a second trip with the truck we had. Any of these choices would have been seen as a failure on our parts, so we weren't happy with any of them. Despite all the claims that "Failure is not an option" failure always is an option, it was merely an option that we chose not to use.

Discussing it between us, we decided to drive around the base for a bit and have a looksee if there might be other options we hadn't explored. And, while driving around, a plan came together that would solve our problems.

Very late that very same night, an US Army 6x6 truck started up and was driven to our location, and the gear not already loaded in our Dodge was loaded in the backend of the 6x6. Then, just as dawn was breaking, we drove the two trucks off the base and headed south. As with many bases, when morning comes the guards on the gates tend to pay attention to everyone coming in to work, and pay scant attention to anyone leaving the base at that time. It's a hole in the military's security which I was able to make great use of many times over the next 17 years, and often use to my advantage.

Now. some people could take the position that I had stolen this truck. I am sure if you asked the Army LT who had signed for it, or the motor pool sargeant who was responsible for it, or the prosecutor at a Naval court martial, they would make a strong argument that it was a stolen truck. But, those are small minded views, taking a very narrow minded approach to the issue. I always tended to see myself as a "big picture" kind of guy, and to my mind, it was not a stolen truck. It was property of the US Military. It was being driven by a properly licensed member of the US military, hauling military property from one military facility to another military facility. And since the truck clearly belonged to the US Military, the ownership of the truck had not changed, and it was clearly not a stolen truck. Over the years, I had learned to use such thin philosophical and legal arguments to justify my actions.

Arriving in Long Beach, we unloaded the trucks and I parked the 6x6 a few blocks away while I contemplated what to do with it. I could simply leave it and let whatever fate decided happen to it, but it seemed too good of an opportunity to let pass. Getting a vehicle out of the base's transportation office was always a royal pain in the butt, and having a truck at my disposal when needed would be a nice benefit to have. Changing the numbers and markings on the truck was easy, but I was going to need a place to park it, fuel to run it on, and maintenance as needed.

At the time, all military vehicles were issued a key card that was swiped at the fuel pumps, and allowed fuel to be accounted for. Since this truck did not have a key card, this was not an option, and I didn't want an undocumented vehicle to show up on the base fuel accounts. So I would have to find some off the books way of fueling the truck.

In the shipyard, there were various workshops, and Shop 27 was the riggers shop. These are the guys who supply the slings, cables, hooks, and other equipment for hooking up cranes to items to be lifted. I had pretty good contacts with Shop 27, because my ship had it's own 30,000 pound capacity hydraulic cherry picker type crane, and it would be used to lift things onto the ship if the shipyard cranes were not available. I was the only one who had been to school and was a licensed operator for the crane at the time, so i worked with Shop 27 quite a bit.

The supervisor of Shop 27 on dayshift was a very large gentlemen of African heritage, who was known throughout the shipyard as the "Ni@@er Rigger". Times were less politically correct back then, and everyone in the shipyard knew who he was, and he wore the tile proudly. I happened to know that the shop would like to have a large truck in which they could permanently mount racks to hold their various slings and cables, and I made a deal with him. If he would provide me with fuel, parking, and minor maint, when the ship departed the yard, I would turn the truck over to him. Since they had a large amount of diesel fuel used daily for cranes, generators, forklifts and other equipment, fueling the truck would be no problem.

So, for the next 8-9 months, word was spread quietly that I had access to a truck and could do hauling around the local area and the base. I swapped work with the truck for various supplies that we needed, and made good use of the truck as I went along. Maintenance wise, it got one oil change and had one flat tire fixed in that time, work being done by the Shop 27 mechanic. Without the need to go through base transportation for a truck, when someone needed something hauled, we would negotiate a price, paid in paint brushes, spray paint, bales of rags, or many of the other items that you can use for horsetrading on a ship. Just like the fabled Army supply sargeants who can start out with a dented canteen and horsetrade their way up to their own jeep, I used the truck, and my little trucking business to get us the supplies we needed.

At the end of the overhaul, I turned the truck over to the guys in Shop 27, along with the appropriate paperwork, proving that the truck had been legitimately acquired though the Government Surplus system. Had a really sharp investigator looked over the paperwork and followed the trail, he might have found that the paperwork was actually a requisition form for a couple of metal desks, but this was in the pre computer days, and the only way to find this would have been to actually go to the disposal site and dig through the paperwork until you find it. And the signature on the paperwork was that of another sailor who was getting out of the Navy and now lives near Minneapolis.

The truck received a fresh coat of paint, becoming bright yellow, and it had racks installed to haul the myriad of things needed to hook up cranes. In 1996, abaout 16 years after the fact, about a year before I retired, I had a chance to go to Long Beach, and the truck was still there, still being used on a daily basis. The shipyard was eventually closed, and i don't know what became of the truck, but clearly it served it's purpose.

Bottom line, I ran a very successful business, by following some very simple rules.

I got my vehicle at no money down and with no monthly payments.
I got some one else to take care of any insurance and licensing costs.
I got some one else to pay for all the fuel and all the maintenance costs
I had dedicated customers who paid cash (or barter goods) immediately for the services.

Anyone considering going into the trucking business should follow those same simple guidelines, and they could be just as successful as I was with running their own trucking business. It's not rocket science, just a matter of controlling your expenses!!!!!

 

It's true. In my younger days handling things in the military, i had a pretty loose regards for many of the rules. I sure wish I was young enough to get into those kinds of deals again. LOL!!!

 

I know, and I made great use of that for many years. If I wanted to slip something out, the best way to do it was in broad daylights, with a big grin on my face, just another happy carefree sailor doing his job.

And if I wanted to get something off the ship, I boxed it up, handed it to the mail clerk and had it shipped off that way, letting them do the work for a couple of dollars. I always had access to a shipping address off the ship.

Ever hear the story of the guy who is watching someone hauling manure out of the barn and can't figure out why? Turns out the guy is stealing wheelbarrows!

I often remembered that story when doing things.