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First . . . around the boro, the light is beauteous enough to suspend a sense of time and obligation and stress and disappointment. This side of the boro, though on duty, works the milder solstice.
Lynx (1967, ex-Catherine Foss, Kainani) probably working with a dredging project, I’ve never seen here before.
a different season, as seen here.
In this heat and light, Kimberly looks positively artdeco: her aqua would blend in on South Beach and way beyond.
Miriam Moran cruises past Sailors’ Snug Harbor, as purposefully as always.
Jane A. Bouchard races deep into right field, showing what waters can be divided by more than 6000 hp on the wheels, while her older sister
the venerable Patty Nolan dons her midsummer’s bikini, freshens up her dancing paint . . . the mayor’s drum is soon to call to disorder the 2012 parade . . . the sixth boro’s shoreline version of Mardi Gras.
Unrelated: If you happen to “see things” when you pass the KVK salt pile on Saturday night, you’re not hallucinating. Lumen will happen.
For an auspicious virtual gallivant as they sally forth through the Rideau Canal from Lake Ontario to Ottawa and beyond, follow Sally W . . .
The salt trade is ancient. Since I’m thinking about gallivants a lot these days, I recall hearing about salt caravans out of the Sahara to ports in North Africa for trans-shipment to Europe. Even if I didn’t travel on a camel, seeing salt slabs in traditional boats on the Niger River . . . would suffice. Back in 1977 I was finished with a job in Cameroon and had the option of adventuring across the Sahara (hitchhiking) through another desert city called Agadez, and opted out. I still regret that choice sometimes. Two friends did it. I thought of this again recently while reading Vuvuzela Diaries.
What traveled north for centuries was salt as well as gold; what traveled south to Timbuktu were European “luxury” goods, including books. Here’s another BBC video on the scholarly libraries of Timbuktu.
So here she came into the sixth boro yesterday . . . and after getting a foto–albeit rainy– of Shorthorn Express a few weeks back, I
Carrickfergus, Ireland, which seemed strange given New York state’s salt mines. But then again, maybe not all salt is the same. Certainly, I learned that a mare transporter doesn’t transport mares or anything remotely equine.
All fotos by will Van Dorp.
Some great pics of a self-unloading Oldendorff bulker, Sophie, come our way thanks to John Watson, from his perch high above the sixth boro. Alice has been around recently as well.
Sophie delivered salt, since we don’t know how many times winter will resurrect before summer comes..
I’m not sure what procedure Siteam Adventurer expected to undergo, but she seems unusually positioned.
See Salt 2. Sidewalks, steps, and streets soon taste this
in the five boros and beyond. Salt arrives at Atlantic Salt,
along Richmond Terrace. And to continue yesterday’s motif,
this is the operator who empties
2002-built bulk carrier,
she who seasons our pathways,
who melts the city’s icy
heart and all its tracks and trails, allowing
her lifeblood, her traffic to flow.
All fotos taken today by Will Van Dorp.
By the way, the tower in fotos 1 and 2 is sometimes called Williamsburgh Savings Bank Tower. Also, in those fotos, you can see dredge New York.