Tied up on the canal in back, just visible from the street, is a 40-foot Silverton yacht. As Mr. Henderson surveyed the area the other day, something nagged at his memory.
Finally he remembered: “I’ve taken this boat before.” Owners of repossessed boats have a few weeks to redeem them, and this fellow had availed himself of the opportunity. Now, a few years later, he was in trouble again. Mr. Henderson shrugged. “I took it before, I’ll take it again. After I take it a few more times, he’ll be eligible for a Christmas card. One guy, I took his boat four times.”
Boat loans, like car loans, give the bank permission to recover its collateral in the case of default, which explains why a repo man can go into a yard without technically trespassing. Nevertheless, the custom is to get in and get out before the owners, neighbors or authorities notice anything amiss.
If the boat is in a marina, the pace is somewhat more leisurely. People delinquent on their boat loans also tend to be behind with their dock payments; since Mr. Henderson pays any overdue charges, most marinas are delighted to help him.
In search of Toy Box, a 34-foot Donzi Express with green stripes, he called about two dozen marinas, finally finding it on the Detroit River. On a recent afternoon, he had it pulled out of winter storage.
As soon as it was in the water, Mr. Henderson and his assistant, Larry McClelland, went through their set of master boat keys until one fit. Mr. McClelland fiddled with the engines, which were not in great repair. Tune-ups are another expense that the delinquent tend to avoid.
After about 15 minutes, Toy Box seemed seaworthy enough to start the 90-minute trip back to Harrison Marine. It was a nice day, but Mr. Henderson was not particularly enjoying himself. He is the sort of man who likes to travel under sail, not by motor.
“Sailing is a pure sport,” he said. “It’s you against the water, you against the wind. It’s more pleasurable than sitting here bouncing down the lake.”
No one grows up aspiring to be a repo man. Mr. Henderson got out of the Army in 1989, another year when the economy was uneasy. Unable to find a job in law enforcement, he followed a friend’s recommendation into the repossession business.
When he meets strangers and they ask what he does, he merely says he is in the marine industry. He has repossessed the boats of friends and one relative, a cousin. “Somebody’s got to do it,” he said. “Might as well be me.”
Toy Box was rocketing up Lake St. Clair when Mr. Henderson’s cellphone rang. It was the marina he had just left, saying the owner had shown up looking for his boat. He was now driving up to Harrison Marine.
The possibility of violence shadows every repo man. “Sometimes people have a bit of an attitude,” Mr. Henderson said.
