of them were absentee owners and the people in the houses at this time of year were vacationers who came and went a week or two at a time. He didn't know who owned the boatyard, just that it was some out-of-town outfit. There was one person he could maybe talk to, the old guy with the grandfathered mini-horse farm around the bend that the Captain had mentioned; he couldn't recall the man's name, but they'd spoken before in passing. But the Captain said that fellow had agreed to sell.
Ah, here was a link to North Carolina General Statutes 40A. Interesting - there were separate articles in the statute for public and private condemnors; now why would that be, if the Assembly supposedly didn't generally allow seizures for private development , as he'd earlier read? He sighed aloud - goddamn lawyers... But here was a glimmer of light in the darkness. It appeared that if Ingram operated as a private condemnor, there'd be meetings (plural) of county commissioners to be scheduled, where Ketch could appeal and air his grievances. Not that it would probably help in the final analysis, since said commissioners would undoubtedly have Ingram's tentacles pulling at them, but it could eat up some time. And if Ingram somehow went the public condemnor route, Ketch would have a hundred and twenty days to answer the declaration, after which it looked like maybe he could do something, but he couldn't discern what exactly. Shouldn't he also have a hundred and twenty days the other way as well? It didn't say so here. Maybe he should pay for an hour or two with a lawyer after all? He at least needed to know how long he'd have to finish the work on the house, beyond the week Ingram had given him today - if that even still held, after he'd antagonized the man. It was good that Mario and Len could start helping with the foam blocks sooner rather than later.
Now he was getting sleepy. This was just the tip of an iceberg, there were truckloads of material here he could read, but that was enough for tonight. But wait, what if he agreed to sell after all? Closings certainly seemed to take more time than people generally desired, and could be made to take even more time than strictly necessary. In either case, sale or seizure, Ingram didn't really want the house, since he'd just be demolishing it, so Ketch's plan for floating away in it shouldn't present any more legal difficulties either way. In fact, it would probably save Ingram some money, damn it. Which reminded him, he should start doing some research on squatting rights, as well as marine codes - which shouldn't apply to him, though, since his house wouldn't be motorized and should thus not be considered a houseboat...
But damn it all, he didn't need any of this. Why couldn't people just live their own lives and let other people be? It's too bad he wasn't living on a houseboat, he thought, then he could just drive the damned thing somewhere else, maybe park it right down at the boatyard - but no, not the Kinnakeet Boatyard, that was on the chopping block as well. And no, not 'the damned thing' - his house, his house, a place he loved and that was the epicenter of his and Jack's formerly idyllic existence.
He also needed to think more about how to get the house into the water. Add a steel frame to protect the blocks and roll it into the water on a flatbed, or maybe on some logs? Push it with a truck, or pull it with a tugboat? Were there tugs with a shallow enough draft for this sound? He'd have to get all of the existing utilities disconnected, and if he wanted to actually live in the house, learn how to rig it with standalone utilities. He'd have to use solar panels and/or wind power or a generator for electricity, probably propane for cooking and heating, make sure the wiring was waterproof, install chemical or composting or incinerating toilets, collect rainwater...
Yes, he had a lot of work to do - but he could certainly 'camp out' in the house for a while if necessary, and he knew there
Ah, here was a link to North Carolina General Statutes 40A. Interesting - there were separate articles in the statute for public and private condemnors; now why would that be, if the Assembly supposedly didn't generally allow seizures for private development , as he'd earlier read? He sighed aloud - goddamn lawyers... But here was a glimmer of light in the darkness. It appeared that if Ingram operated as a private condemnor, there'd be meetings (plural) of county commissioners to be scheduled, where Ketch could appeal and air his grievances. Not that it would probably help in the final analysis, since said commissioners would undoubtedly have Ingram's tentacles pulling at them, but it could eat up some time. And if Ingram somehow went the public condemnor route, Ketch would have a hundred and twenty days to answer the declaration, after which it looked like maybe he could do something, but he couldn't discern what exactly. Shouldn't he also have a hundred and twenty days the other way as well? It didn't say so here. Maybe he should pay for an hour or two with a lawyer after all? He at least needed to know how long he'd have to finish the work on the house, beyond the week Ingram had given him today - if that even still held, after he'd antagonized the man. It was good that Mario and Len could start helping with the foam blocks sooner rather than later.
Now he was getting sleepy. This was just the tip of an iceberg, there were truckloads of material here he could read, but that was enough for tonight. But wait, what if he agreed to sell after all? Closings certainly seemed to take more time than people generally desired, and could be made to take even more time than strictly necessary. In either case, sale or seizure, Ingram didn't really want the house, since he'd just be demolishing it, so Ketch's plan for floating away in it shouldn't present any more legal difficulties either way. In fact, it would probably save Ingram some money, damn it. Which reminded him, he should start doing some research on squatting rights, as well as marine codes - which shouldn't apply to him, though, since his house wouldn't be motorized and should thus not be considered a houseboat...
But damn it all, he didn't need any of this. Why couldn't people just live their own lives and let other people be? It's too bad he wasn't living on a houseboat, he thought, then he could just drive the damned thing somewhere else, maybe park it right down at the boatyard - but no, not the Kinnakeet Boatyard, that was on the chopping block as well. And no, not 'the damned thing' - his house, his house, a place he loved and that was the epicenter of his and Jack's formerly idyllic existence.
He also needed to think more about how to get the house into the water. Add a steel frame to protect the blocks and roll it into the water on a flatbed, or maybe on some logs? Push it with a truck, or pull it with a tugboat? Were there tugs with a shallow enough draft for this sound? He'd have to get all of the existing utilities disconnected, and if he wanted to actually live in the house, learn how to rig it with standalone utilities. He'd have to use solar panels and/or wind power or a generator for electricity, probably propane for cooking and heating, make sure the wiring was waterproof, install chemical or composting or incinerating toilets, collect rainwater...
Yes, he had a lot of work to do - but he could certainly 'camp out' in the house for a while if necessary, and he knew there
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