My 1967 Belmont Flatbottom story

[JusTrouble]

To maximize space for seating, skis, vests, ropes, coolers, etc., he used simple back-to-back bench seats with a center cover over the driveline and alternator from the motor to the back seat. It comfortably seats 6 adults (or 2 adults and 4 or 5 skinny little kids). To keep the driveline low enough to allow for a rear bench seat, he installed a Hallibrand parallel shaft gearbox (V-drive). I’m not sure if he was aware of just how miserably loud the straight-cut gears in this box are or if he chose that particular unit to save money. As with most v-drive boats, there is no reverse gear: it is either in gear (forward) or out of gear, requiring exceptional spatial awareness and good aim maneuvering around other boats, docks, skiers, rocks, trailers, etc. Smitty’s setup here was to use a 2-piece driveline out of old Studebakers for this application. The alternator is bolted to the inside of a stringer with the v-belt simply spinning on the rear driveline tube.

Smitty loved to use big Cadillac or Lincoln motors in the bigger boats. I’m not sure what he put in the first flatbottoms but I know they were not Oldsmobile’s. Yet, that is what Dad bought. Dad had an uncle that I don’t remember ever meeting, who owned the Cadillac / Oldsmobile dealership in Fresno. Dad was able to order a brand new 425 cubic inch big block motor from the factory through Uncle Phelan and I remember it showed up in a wood crate. With the low strung driveline setup, they mounted the motor very low in the boat at the front mount and just far enough forward to allow for a long, thin battery to be accessible behind it. According to photos, the first carb on the motor was a Rochester. In 1968, it is the Carter AFB. Dad was very proud of the black wrinkle paint he used on the motor, which is now pretty tired. He also loved the clear, see-thru spark plug wires he made up back then because they matched the metal flake silver trim on the hull.

In a matter of months, everything came together and they registered the boat and trailer in early 1967. Dad, Wayne and probably Smitty made several test trips to get the carb dialed in and all of the bugs out. The flat replaced the older Belmont as our daily ski boat, which Dad sold in July 1967. I remember Dad being disgusted when he heard that the guy who bought the wood boat abused the hell out of it up at Bass Lake until it was junked. There are a lot of us that wish we could get our hands on one of those now!

I remember the first time I finally got to go out for a ride in it after they had it all dialed in. When we got outside the 5-mile zone and he started to speed up, I was slapping his arm trying to tell him something was wrong. There was a terrible noise. It was so loud I didn’t understand how he wasn’t aware of it. He slowed back down and tried to explain to me that is how it is supposed to sound. Bullshit, Smitty’s didn’t sound like that! Ok, so I didn’t score any points with that one and I didn’t get any better at keeping my thoughts to myself for another 40 years or so. I’m still practicing.

For many years, we spent all day every Saturday and Sunday at the lake. Dad, Wayne and I would launch the Belmont and Wayne’s Spiko as soon as the lake’s gates opened at 6 a.m. and head for the cove by the dam. Wayne got the bright yellow, 17-foot Spiko flatbottom with a 413 Chrysler, right before they finished building the Belmont. Mom and Vivian would bring the other 6 kids and all the tables, chairs, stove, food, coolers and picnic stuff and park at the lowest picnic sight table in the cove. We would beach the boats in the cove and all the other neighbors, friends and relatives would start showing up until we had full control of the entire cove and the other 3 tables all the way back up to the road. Both boats were constantly pulling skiers, coming in for more and going back out. They say Dad taught over 100 people how to ski. We skied till it was too rough in the late morning or early afternoon and then we would go out on big tire inner tubes or a round piece of plywood dad painted that I could stand up and spin around on until I got bored. Basically these were just tools the Dad and Wayne used to try to wear me out so I wouldn’t want to ski so long when the water calmed down again late in the afternoon. I remember there were some other late sleeping park visitors complaining that we were always taking up this particular cove and the picnic tables every weekend and that we never seemed to leave. The Rangers told them to get there first if they wanted it. Typically we wouldn’t pack up until some time after dark. I remember this mainly because of the bats. Ya, the flying kind that would swoop down toward your head. There were 100’s of them there every night and Wayne had us all convinced they were vampires and little kids were their favorite to snack on.

Note re photos: The Aug 67 Terri skiing pic shows the old Rochester carb Dad's fancy see-thru spark plug wires
The 8/68 pic of Mom climbing back in the boat show the Carter with Dad's custom made spacer/adaptor
The pics of upholstery/driveline/alternator/battery were taken last year and used to show what I was referring to above