Since the late 1920s, the Giant Dipper has been creeping along Mission Beach’s edge. For the majority of San Diego, it is a natural feature, a wooden silhouette against the Pacific that you don’t notice until someone tells you to. Someone has been insisting lately. For months, Kevin Payne, a water-damage technician who lives close enough to Belmont Park to observe the maintenance workers from his block, has been telling anyone who will listen that the century-old coaster isn’t as reliable as the park says. With pictures, a website, and what he claimed to be a copy of Belmont’s lease tucked under his arm, he presented his case to the Mission Beach Town Council earlier this month.
His assertions are substantial. rotted beams of support. He claims that a main column will soon be painted over rather than replaced because it is broken on several sides. concerts that are said to be against the park’s lease. He maintains that the revenue is being discreetly hidden from the city. He announced an impending lawsuit while standing at the council meeting and requested that the court appoint a Big Four firm to conduct a forensic audit. By all accounts, it was a dramatic request from a private citizen.
Belmont Park’s reaction was swift and harsh. The general manager and president of the park, Steve Thomas, described the accusations as completely baseless. According to him, the Giant Dipper is constantly being maintained, with the track being reprofiled, the supports being changed, and the engineering tolerances being examined. He noted that wooden coasters need this kind of care. They have consistently done so. Every year, third-party inspectors visit. He said, practically without pausing, “There’s a maintenance team on it.”
Contrary to what Payne’s website implies, investigators have discovered a far more subdued tale thus far. For the infractions he details, Belmont Park has not received a public citation from any regulatory body. The city has not taken any action to enforce anything. The park’s stated response was to fix the rotted wood that was visible in a January Fox 5 segment, which is the kind of thing that attracts attention and cameras. Only an engineer with access can truly determine whether the new columns themselves are cracked, as Payne claims, and no such report has been made public.
Payne might be partially correct. The history of American amusement parks is replete with quiet failures that turned into loud ones, and aging wooden coasters are forgiving until they aren’t. It’s also possible that something more complicated is going on here, such as a neighbor who became involved, became fixated, and began taking pictures of employees in what the park refers to as bullying. According to Thomas, Payne has frequently been observed intimidating workers performing standard maintenance. That is a completely different and unflattering story.
Watching this play out gives the impression that both parties are partially speaking the truth and partially entertaining the audience. Thomas spoke with audible pride about Belmont Park’s impending 100th anniversary. The owners rebuilt the boardwalk restaurants that had burned down while enduring a harsh COVID shutdown and using it to pay rent. They don’t want to spend their hundredth birthday defending themselves against accusations made by a man who owns FixBelmontPark.com. Payne, on the other hand, doesn’t appear eager to stop.
He claims that the lawsuit is nearing completion. For the most part, the city has been quiet. Unaware of the silent battle raging over the wood beneath them, tourists continue to board the Giant Dipper with their hands raised on the first drop. The outcome of Payne’s complaints will probably depend on what a judge, an auditor, or an inspector ultimately determines rather than how loudly the case is made at a town council meeting. Until then, it remains unclear which version of Belmont Park is authentic.
