You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘sirens’ category.
Foto below was taken on July 3, 2012. Charles D. McAllister . . . featured here dozens of times, was assisting British Harmony (see name on lifeboat) out of IMTT Bayonne . . . for sea. Where? Doubleclick enlarges fotos.
MANAUS on the tug is the best clue.
All fotos in this post except the first one were taken by my daughter, Myriam, who’s on the Amazon all summer as a grad student. I bought her a camera and said . . . “tugster needs you,” and she’s been following through since mid-May while I’ve focused mostly on my end of the sixth boro, not hers. More on this later in this post. That’s a sweet ride below.
She’s based in Macapa and took this and all the others from her workboat. No, she doesn’t drive it.
this. Right now Ikan Suji is Shanghai bound with a hold filled with Amazonian raw materials, I’d bet.
From Macapa to Manaus upriver is 500 to 600 air miles. Stadt Gera, in Macapa today, was in the sixth boro and on this blog a year and a half ago.
And here’s why I put the foto of Charles D. McAllister and British Harmony first: British Harmony is about halfway up the Amazon to Manaus as I write this. One really can get anywhere watery from the sixth boro. Knowing that and having concrete reminders like this are not the same.
From fishermen, people with cameras along the KVK, and Macy’s barge waiting for the 2012 Independence Day fireworks . . . to kids in wooden boats like this . . . all seen by crew on British Harmony on the same trip . . . I find amazing.
I hope you enjoyed this glimpse of another watershed. Myriam certainly has the gallivant gene. Here’s some self-disclosure. 39 years ago (!!) I traveled to my first professional job about 500 miles up the Congo River on a huge tugboat named Major Vangu, pushing four deck barges. The tug had 8 or 10 “staterooms” and a bar/restaurant for paying first class passengers. Second class were on a barge with shade, and third class slept among the cargo (barrels of fuel, trucks, crates of beer, misc . . .) on the other barges. It took four days and nights to get from Kinshasa to Mbandaka, near where I spend the next two years. The reason for the choice of a tug was the airplane was non-functioning and roads to get there would have taken weeks. Making this realization today suggests the need for a long river trip next year. . . . hmmmm . . . .
Related: Several times I tried unsuccessfully to find good profile shots of Major Vangu, which sank in 1979. Anyone have ideas on finding fotos of the old Onatra vessels like Major Vangu?
Horns aplenty (more than in Pamplona Seattle) feted the solstice, as did
and here . . . beyond the cowboy in blue toga, library maids and masters with a classic edition of Jules Verne . . . .
By the next day, revelry had migrated to Red Hook, where theatrical scenes of fund-raising on behalf of PortSide NewYork took place, involving officers of
someone’s flotilla bearing keys to the city. By the way, if you can make it to the Community Board 1 meeting TONIGHT by 6 pm, I’ll see you there. Important!
And someone commented . . asking what this mermaidographer looked like, click here and go to #9; thanks for these to Claudia Hehr.
Cheers. Summer is here . . . and I may tomorrow be agallivantin . . .
Meanwhile, if anyone got good pics of the librarian mermaid/mermen contingent . . . please share?
Coney Island–the reef–has existed within the sixth boro since time immemorial, this gathering has occurred since 1983, and tugster has blogged it since 2007, drawn by the natural beauty of creatures–like this one– with
breathing behavior in dry–if muggy- air, and … more.
But I couldn’t help noticing yesterday that . . . as the mermaids school on this reef, so does another species . . . camera-bearers. Even chief-liaison Dick Zigun has cameras turned on him.
And mermaids themselves sport cameras, maybe as mimicry.
OK, all fotos here by Will Van Dorp.
Totally related: in the third foto from end above . . . one mermaid sported a tugboat atop her hear but my shot was blurry. Also, I missed a shot of the “librarian mermaids,” which, if anyone got, I’d love a link or a copy.
#1 was here.
It’s June. Might you be suffering from hypoclupea . . . deficiency of herring? Read what the celebrated neurologist Oliver Sacks writes about treatment here, as published in the New Yorker two years ago. Hypoclupea can leave you blase, bleached, apathetic . . .
dried out . . . as Miss Callie herself is feeling these days. To see Miss Callie in her element among the fishes, click here.
exchange cash or credit at the nearest purveyor of “new catch holland herring,” and you’ll find your zest for life just
returns! You might even end up seeing mermaids without having to go to the latest Depp/Disney show.
And finally, last but not least, you’ll see a new image of “tugster” on the upper left side of this blog; click on the image and you’ll see part of an article that appeared in Jack Tar Issue #5. Watercolor is by Herb Ascherman of Cold is the Sea blog. Another great example of his work is cover on Jack Tar #5.
Thoughts of anything but summer . . . with its adventures and gallivants . .. are elusive, for me. Dana Spiotta writes of that in tomorrow’s NYTimes magazine, recounting a voyage on the Erie Canal by rowboat with Tide and Current Taxi‘s very own Marie Lorenz. You could go fishing: both Marlin and Minnow are currently in the sixth boro.
A week from now you could swim around Manhattan . . . or volunteer to keep swimmers safe by emailing email@example.com
In a week you could go to the Clearwater Festival.
Next Saturday . . . the sea will again boil with hot blood and creatures rarely seen will emerge and parade. It’s the 29th
annual Mermaid Parade and Ball!!!
Thanks, Yen, for that foto.
Here was the first post in this series. Some months back I wondered what this vessel was; only by the time it had sailed a thousand miles southward did I realize it was a dredger, B. E. Lindholm. If only I had gone around the barge here at the east end of Caddell’s . . . . But I was in a hurry that morning. Kenny Wilder took these fantastic dredge fotos for which I am grateful. All my hopper dredger fotos are too far away to demystify the bottom vacuuming business. More Lindholm fotos can be found here.
Great Lakes Dredge & Dock has a hopper dredger in the harbor right now, but my shots are
always too far off. This trailing suction hopper dredger is called Padre Island.
Here’s a GLDD clamshell submerged and probing the topography of the bottom of the bay,
Here’s a hydraulic excavator. The equipment is mammoth.
Deeper, deeper, the task seems herculean and somewhat futile at the same time, except it’s not.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
To see how the huge dredger Leiv Eiriksson is put together, click here.
Dredging . . . besides being essential work of the harbor, it reminds me of how my consciousness works: each morning, whatever the hour, when I wake up, my perception is affected by whatever topography of my memory is then exposed. It may be peaks or valleys or even human-created highs and lows. Stuff resolved or not but accepted last week or last year needs to be dealt with again and again. Not that I’m a slow learner, just new perspective brings new doubts, refreshed hopes. Unsettling, pun intended. I suppose this makes a post about dredging an apt end-of/beginning-of year post.
Related to dredging is dealing with the nagging stuff that comes up in many of our consciousnesses as relates to getting along with people. A type of post I’m thinking to add is an advice column. Being on Georgia backroads now with only a quite blank laptop, I have no sixth boro fotos to illustrate, but here’s a an example, which–@!%&*#@–sounds so much like Shakespeare that I’ll just modify this synopsis of Midsummer Night’s Dream. . . except this writing happens to be midwinter.
Sample advice seeker whom I’ll call “December dredgerist” —-
Dear Tugster, My crewmate Mori (married to a lubber Elfin Princess . . . aka EP) feels profoundly attracted to Tori (a lubber), and Tori feels deeply attracted to Luis. EP loves Mori but also–being elfin–has strong attractions and liaisons with a plethora of fairies, sprites, nymphs, mermaids, and sirens, and other magical creatures of the forests, islands, tidepools, hills… all of which is fine with Mori, who understands elfins and their openness about Mori and Tori. There is neither pressure to change anything nor complications that exist, but (I’m writing for Mori) Mori wants to know if you could dig into your experience to help Mori either attract Tori or deal with her lack of attractedness to him without turning into an ass. Many thanks… December dredgerist.
My response: Dear Decemberist: Tell Mori that change is the only constant, and since I have no control over the elves, sprites, and other magical creatures that make stuff happen in your/my lives, just . . . do what you’re doing–be sweet or salty or neutral according to your custom and … ride out the hurricanes, calms, ebbs, surges. May your anchor hold tight in spring tides as in lows. Dress warmly, and always wear a life jacket.
Lame, maybe? Any advice for either the advice giver or the advice seeker? Much appreciated, and Auspicious 2010! Enjoy the midwinter’s full moon. I’m starting to make my way down the Savannah watershed.
PS: If your advice to me is to call off this column and terminate the personals-dredging, I’ll consider it.
Miraculously . . . rain stopped not long after the parade began. A “traditional” pirate contingent marched with their usual antique weapons, but stunning was
another group calling itself “somali coast guard.” Now that was truly a first. And they didn’t say . . . “arrr.” Instead it sounded sort of like “fuloose.”
Also in the pirate thread was this canoe float
These three figures on the prow of a Toyota leave me speechless. Painting by Andy Golub.
This vessel in the parade represented Brooklyn Brewery, so I guess it could be considered
a tanker . . . a plastic tankard maybe.
Sails traveled by without hulls, this one bearing terms of unendearment and loathing for Thor, the developer on Coney Island and other places.
Religious folks marched, both high profile like Rev. Billy and
anonymous sisters of mercy, as they called themselves.
I’m speechless . . . mmmm
Greenish mariners in some foreign uniforms tagged along with merfolk, but
merfolk sporting blooms from octopus’s gardens dominated in numbers.
Winding up this post is tough, but this might do it: this fisherman offshore far too long finds himself in charming company. How does he do that?
No . . this will end it: the Polar Bears represent the diametric opposite of the summer solstice.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
The annual visitation of merfolk and their friends happened on cue this afternoon. This intrepid witness scouted out the approach path (marked in orange here) in spite of the incessant rain. Summer begins tomorrow; rainy season has drenched us and promoted mushroom harvest several weeks already. An unidentified tug sallied forth to summon the assembled visitors.
Staff stood by to process the waterfolk, insisting that all bear TWICs; tweets were ubiquitous too. The actual coming-ashore was deemed too confidential to film.
Dick Zigun, parade founder and mayor of Coney Island, led the way.
Some visitors from the deep received special accommodations, as did this variety of . . . Hudson canyon sturgeon post-makeover for the visitation?
Others moved with grace. Some merfolk had diaphanous fins, a variety of flying fish, I’d wager.
These might be a variety of butterflyfish with camouflage eyes to confound potential predators.
These impersonated Maine lobstermen as only mummers can.
The merfolk demonstrated good-will toward us terrans, passing along all manner of freebies; take my word . . . this mermaid’s hug came with exotic perfume of anemones.
This merfolk defies categorization but captivates me nonetheless.
Mer-politicians or possibly their agents also proposed their own remedies for economic recovery, and hearing about the woes of GM and Chrysler,
some mer-manufacturers seemed to hurry out their prototypes, sensing an opportunity to gain market share.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp. More tomorrow.
Of course, many bright happy spots and fine people surround me this dark solstice. Yet, I have to consciously remind myself of this brightness sometimes, given how bleak this time of year can seem, and especially this December. So . . . an especially cheery thought is that, given the best scientific knowledge on merfolk migration, the next parade mermaids and consorting sirens is only six months away now. So how’s about some aides-memoires from summer 08 . . . music for the season . . . like the East Village Sea Monster Marching Band, or
Santa of the sands, his chariot guided thru the seas back to the boro by a purple-eyed pooch and rearview red-tailed African gray, and
some of his helpers.
With such thoughts floating through my head, I think I’ll survive the darkness, the monochromatic city, where sometimes
spirits just don’t sparkle or fizz and
even some favorites look black & white.
Buoyed by the impending mer-migration back north, I feel better. Happy “getting past winter solstice,” be jolly, thanks for reading the blog, and huzzah that the next mer-parade in the boro is only a mere 4300+ hours away!
All fotos always unless otherwise attributed by Will Van Dorp.