SALT LAKE CITY, Utah (1 July 2005) -- Salt Lake City's Jeff Lehman makes a living collecting golf balls from ponds and selling them back to golf courses. He once sold a specialty Ping ball for $100. His company, Wasatch Golf, is the main provider of used golf balls to courses throughout Utah. The 55-year-old Florida native collects 3,000 balls a day. Jeff Lehman's specially made apron bulged with newfound golf balls, more than 4,300 he brought back from the murky ponds lining a Florida golf course. Lehman, outfitted in scuba equipment, wanted 5,000 and worked his way from one pond, through a connecting waterway to a second water hazard. Then he remembered the alligator his brother nicknamed "One-Eyed Jake" might be watching - and waiting. "I was told, 'don't work the middle,' " Lehman said. "It was toward the end of the day and I wanted 5,000. I started working and immediately felt uncomfortable. I came right up and when I broke the water, there he was, this far away." Lehman spread his arms wide, about the distance a gator can cover in an instant with a swish of a tail. "I got close enough to see he only had one eye." These days, Lehman needs only worry about ducks, geese and carp - and the occasional hidden branch - as he collects golf balls in water hazards at Utah's golf courses. It is his living, and occasionally, a specialty ball will become a small gold mine. "I sold a Ping that was black and silver for $100," he said. "I've seen just about every logo. Back when we were fighting Iraq the first time [1990], I found a ball with a picture of Saddam Hussein and underneath it said ' "Slam Hussein.' " Lehman's company, Wasatch Golf, is the main provider of used golf balls to courses throughout Utah. Lehman collects 3,000 balls on a typical day. Most are sold at golf courses for a buck or two. Lehman gets less than a quarter of the take. "Here, you can pay the bills but you can't get rich," said the 55-year-old Florida transplant. The situation is much different in states such as Florida, Arizona and California where golf is a 365-day-a-year activity. Lehman, who got his start on a course near Miami, has seen those in his line of work become millionaires. "The market has died a little from what it used to be," said Gary Healy, head professional at Murray Parkway. "Now, new balls are so cheap. But there is still a good market for the used ones. We sell quite of few of them." Lehman recovers two types of balls. Those graded "Double A" sell for about $1. Newer, higher-priced brands fetch a higher price. After he gathers his booty, Lehman's wife, Mary, and two daughters, Stacie and Julie, do the washing, processing and packaging. "He definitely fills a niche," Healey said. "There's a tough pond on the first hole. You have to donate to the lake on the first hole. When you place a pond on the right side, it collects a lot of balls." Experience has taught Lehman where to find the most balls from strategically placed ponds, like those on the right side - the right-handed golfer's slice side. Each month, Lehman sends an invoice and receives a check from the course. | | Golf ball diver Jeff Lehman "Stonebridge has a massive amount of water," he said. "Now there's a course you can't work in a week. It's a very hard course to work. The [pond] sides are choppy and the balls get hung up. It's a terrible dive, but the balls are beautiful." The golf balls may be beautiful, but the ponds and lakes usually leave much to be desired. The sun does not break through the murky depths and a good sense of direction is a must when feeling around for golf balls in the dark. "I've noticed that people who are just learning go in circles," Lehman said. Lehman works the ridges before working the middle. Most ponds are usually 7-10 feet deep. "It's hard to find your way, but if you're not finding balls, it is a good indication that you've probably covered the area," Lehman said. Lehman took the job from Paul Niebuhr, who is now on an LDS Church mission in South America. Tentative plans call for the men to became partners when Niebuhr returns. "It's not a sports dive. It's not a fun dive. Most of it is done by feel," Niebuhr told the Salt Lake Tribune in 2001. "Some [ponds] are so shallow you can't even swim. You have to be on your hands and knees." Lehman stumbled into his profession. After graduating from Florida International University, a friend showed Lehman an ad calling for a salvage diver. "I had thoughts of, 'great, I'm going out with Mel Fisher.' That wasn't the deal," Lehman remembers. Instead of discovering great sunken ships filled with gold and silver, he was diving for six cents a ball. In time, Lehman went out on his own and worked a deal with former PGA professional Julius Boros, who was the pro at Turnberry Isle, near Miami. "There was no visibility; every time I went to the side I came to here [points to calf] in golf balls," Lehman said. "When I finished the shelf, I went down." Down, though, was deeper than Lehman had ever dived before. It was 50 feet to the bottom of what was a golf ball bonanza. From there, Lehman worked for another course and eventually opened a shop. "It was much different than what I'm doing here," Lehman said. "I sold every ball." Of course, Lehman doesn't encounter dangerous wildlife, either. Upon surfacing and going eyeball-to-eyeball with One-Eyed Jake, Lehman carefully kicked toward the shore; fortunately, the 13-foot long gator didn't follow. "I got out of the water, then One-Eyed Jake got out of the water," Lehman said. "It was scary to see anything that big. "I never made it to 5,000." SOURCE - Salt Lake Tribune |
