Beside a pile of torn asphalt, water bubbles up muddy, pooling in fresh dirt.

The guy running the excavator, the green backhoe, "hooked" a water line while demolishing the old pedestal for the Alki Statue of Liberty last Tuesday. A two-inch sub-main runs under the length of the lawn, along the boardwalk from the west toward the Bath House.

His supervisor, Patrick Donohue, thought it was buried deeper than it actually was.

"This sort of stuff happens," he says, cell phone in hand.

He's the senior project coordinator assigned by Seattle Parks and Recreation to supervise the building of the new pedestal and plaza. He calls to find someone to shut the water off.

The line had been shut off last fall, because a soggy section of lawn betrayed a leak. The ground dried out before someone could make the repair. So Parks turned the water back on, but leak didn't reappear.

By hooking the pipe, Jared Stevenson, with W.S. Construction, started a new leak.

"That line had to come out anyway," Donohue says. He acts nonchalant, but flips open his phone to make another call. Eventually, a plumber comes, and in half an hour the pipe is capped off above the leak.

"There's always a multitude of unknowns with construction," Donohue says. "We have made a commitment to the grand opening, and we're doing our best to get there."

Parks has the project on a fast track, to complete it before the dedication Sept. 6.

Construction documents, drawn up by Susan Black and Associates in Ballard, are being completed, some just days ahead of construction.

The final design of the pedestal and a mock-up isn't yet done.

The wooden bench seats are still being designed.

"Parks usually has 100 percent of the design done before construction begins," Donohue says. "But this is not that unusual."

As it sometimes does to expedite construction, Parks did not seek bids from independent companies for the plaza work. Instead, the city department is acting as its own general contractor, with Donohue coordinating.

Neighbors had few warnings of imminent construction. Some thought it was completed when Mayor Greg Nickels dedicated the recast statue on the old pedestal last September. Meanwhile, Paul and Libby Carr sold engraved bricks and benches, solicited donors, and raised $260,000 for a new pedestal and plaza.

Then chain link fencing appeared on Monday morning, July 7. A green excavator was parked inside. By early the next morning, Stevenson had torn up asphalt and one of the three benches. An orange boom truck from Ness Cranes waited to pluck the statue off her pedestal.

A few people complained.

"I ran into some hostility," says Jacqueline Tabor. People approached the junior project manager for the Parks department while she hung photos of historic Alki Beach and the Bath House on the construction fence. "Some people squawked at me, said they didn't want things to change."

"You encounter that with every public project," Donohue tells her. He admits, sometimes his role on a construction site is more to answer questions from the public. And listen to complaints.

"I tell them they need to speak up, but don't talk to me, because I'm the wrong person," he says.

That Tuesday morning, with encouragement from a crowbar, the statue pops off the top of the old pedestal and dangles from the crane boom. Donohue guides it to the flat bed, crew laid her gently on her back atop two-by-fours, and they secure her with wide straps. Parks will keep the statue in a warehouse on West Marginal Way until a few days before the dedication.

This week, the crew will build forms for the new stairs from the sidewalk. They will pour the under-slab for the engraved bricks.

But last Friday, Donohue's head carpenter was heading to Montana to attend a funeral, and Donohue must be on-site supervising the construction instead.

"I don't really work well in a tent," he says. "I'll get the job done. It's just painful doing it."

And something's wrong with the excavator. Steve Bendel, who also works for W.S. Contractors, shuts off the engine and climbs out of the cab.

"It ran this morning," he tells Donohue. He points to a pile of sod he torn out while regrading the site. "I moved all that stuff and parked it. Now it'll start up, but it won't move."

The hydraulics, to the arm, to the blade, to the tread, stopped working. Donohue suggests the door has to be shut. Tried that. The blade needs to be raised? Can't move it now. Is there a kill switch?

"None that I know of," Bendel says.

Donohue flips open his cell phone.

"This sort of stuff happens," he says, dialing. "It's not that unusual."

Matthew G. Miller is a freelance writer living in the Admiral District. He may be contacted via wseditor@robinsonnews.com.