Brooklyn Motor Works - From Underwater to on the Water - NYTimes.com Benjamin Preston Carlos Dos Santos, in his new waterfront shop, admiring a custom motorcycle he built. When you think of waterfront property, beach houses and restaurants probably supersede motorcycle shops among the things that come to mind. But Brooklyn Motor Works, the Harley-Davidson repair shop that occupies the garage perched on a small pad of concrete and gravel in Red Hook, on the banks of New York Harbor, wasn't always a waterfront property. It took Hurricane Sandy for it to end up there. The shop used to be at 74 Verona Street, but when the storm surge crept into the shop, ruining or severely damaging 67 motorcycles, Carlos Dos Santos's four-year-old business was in tough shape. "People had been storing them with us to keep them out of the storm," he said in an interview, explaining that after the storm much of his clientele assumed he was finished. We had about 1,500 customers, and now we have around 200. After the storm, we were too busy to focus much on getting the word out. Luckily, the owner of another small business in the area - Steve Tarpin of Steve's Authentic Key Lime Pies - is also a motorcycle aficionado and wanted to help. "It was one of those timing things," Mr. Tarpin said in a telephone interview. I was driving by his shop and he happened to be standing outside at the time, and we started talking. Mr. Dos Santos says Mr. Tarpin introduced him to Brian Robbins, who owns Cornell Paper & Box Company, as well as several large buildings in Red Hook - and that's how he eventually took over the 2,400-square-foot waterfront garage attached to the back of a warehouse filled with the pulpy remains of storm-drenched cardboard boxes. "It was about reinventing myself and my company by organizing my own warehouse usage requirements, which, in turn, created space for renters," Mr. Robbins wrote in an email. Plus, did I mention I'm a motorcycle nut? Although it was salt water that nearly toppled his business, Mr. Dos Santos looks to the bright side about having his shop right next to it, where the floodwaters rose much higher than four feet during Sandy. "It's pretty awesome as long as it's not surging eight feet above sea level," he said. It's the best sunset in town. Mr. Dos Santos is also upbeat about the state of his business, which specializes in Harley repair and performance upgrades, but also does maintenance, repairs and parts distribution for all sorts of motorcycles. He says that although the storm set him back significantly, it also pared his operation to the bare essentials. Before he had several employees and a lot of responsibility, but now it's just him, an occasional helper and a bunch of bikes to work on. "It's really been a back to basics, but it's been good," he said. I've had a chance to focus in on what's important, and that's being happy. As winter approaches, the oil changes and brake jobs that keep Mr. Dos Santos busy and riders on the road through the spring, summer and fall riding season give way to larger projects: the big rebuilds and hot-rod projects that take a lot of time, but are best done without the constant thrum of customers coming and going. "I think the concentration on modifying and increasing the performance of factory V-Twins sort of extends our season a little," he said. Tail-end-of-the-season guys are jonesing for more power, so I can generally ride that wave into the second week of December. Then it starts to get quiet. A 3,600-watt stereo system belting out artists like Edvard Grieg, Ella Fitzgerald and Killswitch Engage keeps him company during the more involved jobs that dominate the winter. "I can go for days without seeing a soul," he said. Last winter, that period of big projects and intense concentration never came, ripped away by post-Sandy chaos. A shelf lined with thick, black binders - filled with application forms and information about state and federal relief that still hasn't come - remains as a testament to the sort of bureaucratic madness that replaced the hum of business after the storm. "We're still in the application process one year later," he said, pointing out that it hasn't stopped him from accomplishing what needs to be done to keep his business running. Mr. Tarpin, whose Key lime pie-making operation is just on the other side of the building, says he is glad Mr. Dos Santos was able to hang on through tough times. "He was just at the edge of being finished after the storm, but he got a second chance," he said. As a small-business owner, it's a good feeling to see that. Despite the trials of the flood and the bureaucratic lethargy, a glance around Brooklyn Motor Works suggests that things are going well. The small garage is packed with bikes in various states of repair and disrepair, and with warm weather beginning to stretch into November, customers still walk through the big bay door every day. Mr. Dos Santos says he's happy to be keeping people out there riding. "I've learned over the years that you need a little humility to survive just about any professional game," he said. My job is spiritual: To bring people closer to that moment that every biker chases, when everything else is silent, your eyes are on the horizon and there's nothing to say. It's just you and the road and absolute freedom.