The studio sits in San Diego, about seventy five minutes south of the Harbor, and we make that drive often. Boat service yards, charter and fishing operators, the restaurants in the Lantern District and the brokerages up by Monarch Beach all keep a calendar that the calendar does not control. Wind moves it, tides move it, and a customer changes his mind on Thursday.
So the office absorbs the change. A charter cancels and somebody rebooks six parties by phone. A repair estimate depends on what is found once the boat is out of the water, so the quote gets rebuilt twice and the customer hears the third number. Parts arrive late and nobody tells the owner until he calls. Deposits, waivers and slip paperwork live in a filing cabinet and a shared drive at the same time, which means they live nowhere.
The audit follows one job through that whole loop: inquiry, quote, change order, invoice. We count how many times a person retypes something that already existed, put hours against each one, and price what a fix would cost to build. Some of it earns its money back in a season. Some of it should be left alone, and the document names which is which.