It was the first time I had seen a burned-out wiring harness over morning coffee. It looked charred and dysfunctional.

Dave Henault pulled it from a cardboard box. It was exhibit A in his case against pickup trucks that catch on fire.

Henault sells bait.

“I sell a ton of bait,” he says.

Most fishermen in the area know that. His Ocean State Tackle in Providence and Bristol moves a whole lot of the stuff that brings the fish to the hook.

Thus, the truck, the one that started smokin’ on a hot summer day in Warren. It’s a Ford F-150 with an extended cab and few frills. It’s a basic truck with a lot of cargo space for live pogies.

Henault bought it in November 2005 from a dealer in Quincy, Mass., because he couldn’t find the exact model he wanted in Rhode Island.

“I drove it for seven months,” he says. “There was no problem.”

But in the early afternoon of July 31, 2006, with the temperature soaring and his dog Harry along for the ride, the truck shut down on a road in Warren.

“I pulled over to the side of the road,” says Henault. “When I turned the ignition, smoke came out of the engine.”

He raised the hood and saw flames. He grabbed a plastic bottle, ran to a nearby pond for water and put out the fire.

He called 911. He called Ford roadside assistance. And he began a search for consumer satisfaction that continues to this day.

It’s a story of a man who sees a relatively new truck catch fire and reasonably decides he doesn’t want that truck anymore. Flames under the hood can do that. Once it happens, a man might wonder if it will happen again.

“I’m on the road between 2 and 3 a.m. to get fresh bait,” he says. “I need reliability.”

Henault remembers sitting with Harry in a field in that July heat. When Ford roadside assistance showed up, he quickly learned that the assistance did not include a tow and that his warranty did not provide a loaner vehicle.

He had the truck towed to Rizzo Ford in North Providence, which soon became Tasca Ford. And he started making calls. He thought he was perfectly justified in asking that the fire-prone truck be replaced with one that wouldn’t show smoke.

He admits he said a few things that were “over the top” during the effort.

“I can be obsessive,” he says.

He called the attorneys general offices in Rhode Island and Massachusetts and learned that automotive lemon laws do not cover commercially registered vehicles.

He called Ford. He didn’t get as far as he wanted. He wanted the legal department. He got consumer affairs. And he got an offer that he refers to as “the gag order.”

It sure seems like a gag order. In a letter sent Aug. 16, a Ford representative told him that the company, as a “goodwill gesture,” would pay for repairs to the truck if he signed a release under which Ford assumed no responsibility for the problem and did not acknowledge the fire.

The release also barred him from publicly discussing his burning truck.

The reference to the “goodwill gesture” really galls Henault. It sounds like Ford is doing him a favor. The truck caught on fire! He thinks there’s a public safety issue involved.

He refused to sign the release. Eventually, he had the truck towed to a garage and repaired.

He is considering creating a Web site to share his experience. He expects to be upset about his burning truck for years.

“I’m French-Canadian and Scottish,” says Dave Henault. “We’re purposeful.”

bkerr@projo.com