From NJ.com — In a huge building alongside the Bass River, just north of Atlantic City, a few workers drill, paint and polish an 82-foot jewel of a yacht. She comes with glossy teak inlays, granite counter tops, pristine white sofas and all the trimmings that say ostentatious wealth.

In good times, the Viking Yacht Co., the state’s largest boat builder, turned out more than 100 such floating mansions, with prices easily topping a million dollars or more. But these are not good times for the boating industry, and the New Gretna company will likely build half that number this year.

When one learns New Jersey’s once thriving boat building industry is on the rocks, there might be some temptation to say “so what,” since these are merely expensive toys for the rich.

But boat building is not just a boutique operation in this state; it provides thousands of high-paying jobs for skilled craftsmen. Since the first of the year, Viking and another New Jersey yacht builder, Silverton Marine in Millville, have laid off more than 700 workers. Other builders are also cutting back sharply. And as the boats go, so do the attendant businesses along the Bass River, home to boat builders for more than 200 years.

“We had to cut our production by 40 percent,” said Pat Healey, Viking’s executive vice president. “It was a difficult thing to do. I’ve had so many sleepless nights.”

So, it isn’t, builders say, just a rich people problem.

“This isn’t hurting the rich,” said Thom Dammrich, president of the National Marine Manufacturers Association, a Chicago-based trade group. “They’ll buy a used boat, or they’ll choose not to buy a boat. Who it hurts is the people who build the boats, and we’re seeing that dramatically today.”

With its network of waterways and plentiful supply of cedar long favored for maritime construction, South Jersey has a rich boating history. Wooden schooners and hand-crafted skiffs were built there as early as colonial times, and the region led the nation in boat building as recently as the 19th century. The skills have been passed from generation to generation, forging a family tradition that is still alive in the area’s seaside towns.

By the 1960s, a group of dominant companies emerged, all within a 20-mile radius of one another: Viking, Egg Harbor Yachts and Ocean Yachts. Thirty miles south is Silverton Marine, another major boat builder.

“Down here, you either have someone in your family who is in the boat business, or you know someone who is in the boat business,” said John Leek IV, 29, general manager of Ocean Yachts in Weekstown. He traces his boating heritage to his great-great-grandfather, Charles Leek, who made sport fishing yachts and other pleasure crafts in the early 1900s.

Since the recession hit, Leek’s payroll has dwindled from 150 people to 30. His production has gone from 70 boats a year to just four. He declined to release sales figures — “it’s ugly” — but said to stay afloat, they are servicing old boats and building new ones only for those who pay up front.

Healey and others recall the last time the industry was on the brink of collapse. In 1991, a federal luxury tax throttled boat sales and nearly put Viking and other builders out of business before eventually being repealed.

“This time it’s worse,” said Brett Marshall, Silverton’s vice president of sales and marketing.

Credit was his firm’s lifeline during the sales drought of the 1990s, but banks today are cautious about providing cheap credit to boat makers. “I’ve been in the business for 21 years and I’ve never seen it this bad,” he said.

The problem has spilled over to suppliers like Johnson & Towers, a longtime engine maker for Viking, Silverton and others. With sales off by 50 percent, the Mount Laurel company was forced to shed several jobs of its own.

“The boat building industry is all but dried up,” said Bob Shomo Sr., the firm’s senior vice president. “We go back three generations with Viking and it’s very disheartening.”

PAIN SPREADS

Boating is the economic lifeblood of the towns along Bass River, a meandering, marsh-lined tributary that feeds into the Mullica River and flows into the Great Bay. In New Gretna, where Viking is based, the company’s troubles have spread to local businesses that benefited from the boating giant in good times.

Across the road from Viking’s marina, at a sandwich and ice cream shop called the Patio, the job losses mean fewer customers who order lunch or stop by for dinner as they leave work.

“We used to deliver at least 30 sandwiches a day over there,” said owner Jim Manney, a 62-year-old retiree who set up shop near Viking seven years ago when the boat business was booming. “Today, we get excited if we sell more than four.”

Viking has a payroll of 620, compared to nearly 1,400 a year ago. One of the largest employers in Burlington County, it lavished free health care on its workers at an in-house infirmary. It doted on needy locals, providing elderly residents with annual flu shots. And it was a constant financial backer for area charities.

With its budget now squeezed, Viking has scaled back on its philanthropy, leaving some locals worried about who will fill the void.

“There’s nothing here other than Viking,” said Bernie Zaremba, who owns a nearby Sunoco gas station. “It hurts a lot of people here,” he said. “We all depend on them for customers who would come and buy stuff.”

Unable to find jobs with comparable wages and benefits, many laid off workers are idling, said Deborah Buzby-Cope, the mayor of Bass River Township. Most have families to provide for, she added.

Two days before Dennis Noble’s wedding in December, he was called to a meeting with other Viking workers and told he would be furloughed for a month. Noble went ahead with the marriage, but learned in February his furlough had turned into a permanent layoff.

He now tries to support his wife, son and two stepchildren with a part-time public works job, but said it’s been difficult replacing the $15.65 an hour he earned at Viking’s paint shop.

“I’ve been all over looking, but no one is hiring,” said Noble, 46, who lives in Ocean City. “I wish I could go back to work at Viking. When I ask around, people say they are selling some boats, but it’s basically enough to keep the lights on.”

INDUSTRY MAY NEVER RECOVER

Those in the boat-building business say they face a permanently smaller horizon.

The best-known names in the industry, such as Brunswick Corp. and Genmar Holdings, have either dramatically cut back operations or declared bankruptcy. Repossessed boats are flooding the market, also depressing profits. And boat exports — which had buoyed sales when the dollar was weak — are now shrinking as the dollar strengthens, said Dammrich.

As sales shrink, some boat makers worry about retaining talent, pointing out that fewer and fewer crafts people are taking up the trade.

“If we lose them, we won’t see many come back,” said Marshall, the Silverton executive. “That’s why it’s key that we hold on to as many craftsmen as we can. They’re the ones who have been with us for a long time.”

At the Patio restaurant across from Viking’s riverside complex, Manney watched the late-afternoon traffic from his doorway. A year ago, the town’s main drag would have been gridlocked as workers left for the day. Today, the road is quiet.

“There are no other manufacturers in South Jersey these people can turn to,” he said. “If boat building were to go away, it won’t come back when times are good. It’s gone. Those jobs are lost forever.”