You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘John B. Caddell’ tag.
Sandy pushed this 1941 vessel ashore on Staten Island late last October. The registered owner was from another continent and possibly no longer alive due to unrelated circumstances. The city took charge and the sheriff’s auction happened today.
Viewing and inspection happened from this vantage point. Sheriffs offered binoculars, though none with x-ray capability.
Before the auction began, a tanker at least four times greater in length passed northbound in the Arthur Kill.
Auctioneer Dennis Alestra welcomed the crowd to the auction, indicating where the bidding would take place.
Members of the sheriff’s department outnumbered all other attendees combined. Carolina Salguero, director of PortSide NewYork, has a similar tanker, Mary A. Whalen, now possibly the last of this class of coastal tanker in the United States and certainly the only tanker serving as a center for cultural and educational events.
I’ve always enjoyed seeing her.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
Thanks to Mai for catching this auction notice . . . for John B. Caddell . . . to the highest bidder . . . with a $25,000 minimum. When I saw the notice, I went through my archives of this tanker delivered just six days after the day of infamy 1941. JBC enters the Buttermilk,
All these fotos were taken between five and eight years ago. JBC in Newtown Creek.
JBC in the Arthur Kill passing London Express and MOL Experience.
Newtown Creek again.
High and dry at Caddell’s Dry Dock & Repair and
showing off her wheel.
And finally . .. thanks to Richard Wonder, one of my favorites . . . JBC heading into the KVK as seen from the Bayonne Bridge.
The auctioneer clears his (her??) throat, raises the gavel . . ..
Almost three years ago, I used suspension as a title, using a foto from Bill Benson of a Donjon crane lifting a Donjon tugboat . . . for maintenance. It seemed appropriate for this post, given that this vessel below, below foto taken in August 2009, wandered onto dry land six weks back and yesterday was finally
brought back into its element
by possibly the same crane.
Of course, before she would float
along this rocky Staten Island shore, divers most likely needed to apply some patches before she would float to . . . possibly the scrapyard.
At the same moment, along the southwest corner of Manhattan, another DonJon effort is underway to transfer the WTC antenna segments from the water, which has borne their conveyance down here from Canada,
onto land and from thence into the sky. These last two fotos come with many thanks–again–to l’amica dalla torre .
Fotos 2, 3, and 4 above I use with many thanks to Carter Craft and Outside New York, LLC. All fotos, not otherwise attributed, by Will Van Dorp.
I’ll use fotos from the past week, since the past two days have been darky and rainy. Penobscot Bay is called an ice-breaker, a mission not yet activated this season.
M/V Dynamic Striker–with an arresting name–probably wants to forget its high-speed chase on the Indian Ocean two years ago.
Susana S and (in the distance) Intrepid Canada await in the anchorage. Since that moment (Wednesday), Susana S has departed for points east and Intrepid Canada has move up Raritan Bay and into Arthur Kill.
Here Cosco Osaka departs the KVK, bound for sea, i.e., Boston and then maybe the Canal in Panama.
I’m guessing that every major port in the world sees a member of this fleet now and then, most looking like Bow Fortune here. For great fotos of these set, taken both onboard and from a distance, click here.
John B. still lies in a beached position, but yesterday Brian Nicholas rather than Sarah Ann attended crane barge Raritan Bay.
HanJin San Francisco left here a week ago, made a few stops headed south, and is now bound for the Canal. Previously I caught her here in late September this year.
Stena Primorsk–named for the largest Russian port on the Baltic–has lingered in the harbor for the better part of a month now, occasionally giving the impression she’s outbound somewhere distant.
Two weeks til winter . . . and we’ve not yet seen a frost locally.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
(Doubleclick enlarges these again!! I’ll go back when I can and correct the “display setting” for the past few days.)
Thirty-six or so days after surging sixth boro waters tossed this “mothballed” tanker onto the shoreline at Clifton, Staten Island, efforts appear to be preparing to move it off. Crews have been assessing the condition of John B Caddell for some time, but as of nightfall today, tug Sarah Ann had barge Raritan Bay
I can’t say what this beach will look like tomorrow, so
I took advantage of the 65-degree foggy evening to get
what fotos I could. It’s only an illusion caused by flood lighting that John B no longer has a bow, but come . . . a month from now,
who knows. This press release about a unified approach to removing the wreck made the rounds in my email yesterday. Thanks to all who passed it along.
All fotos fresh from the camera and the dark room of Will Van Dorp.
John B. three weeks after coming ashore. Tethered . . . like an rogue beast.
Tagged . . . like a common railroad boxcar.
Examined by a scissor lift.
Quarantined and sequestered by yellow boom in her element and
orange pole and police tape ashore . . .
Her cavities and ducts probed, cathetered, and pumped out . . .
Prospects do indeed look grim for John B. . . .
her fate watched from the deep side.
All fotos today by Will Van Dorp.
Unrelated: Since Ft Wadsworth’s still closed to the public, I’ve no news about the ‘scapegoats there. Anyone have word?
May 30, 2012 . . . around 1000 hrs. I’d forgotten taking this foto until a conversation with Harold Tartell this afternoon. RIP . . . Bounty in that foto was heading for Newburgh, NY. Note the USCG vessel lower right.
Here are more fotos from my harbor jaunt yesterday… Apollo Bulker now lies at the dock in Rensselaer.
John A. Noble passed the Statue on the Upper Bay at midday yesterday.
Lower Manhattan yesterday was a maze of pumps powered by portable generators of all sizes. I’m not sure where this water is being pumped from. But waters in other parts of that area smelled of fuel; people wearing masks–there’s a whole new meaning to Halloween mask now–ran pumps and threw out waterlogged debris from residences and businesses.
Google “John B. Caddell” now and you’ll see lots of stories describing this vessels as a “168′ water tanker” or a “700-ton water tanker.” It’s NOT a water tanker. It was built as hull # 137 for Chester A. Poling Inc. to transport petroleum. Soon after delivery, it was turned over to the Navy and redubbed YO-140. After the war, ownership was returned to the Poling company, and until its sale “foreign” about two years ago. It’s NOT a water tanker . . . it did not transport water as a paying cargo.
It’s remarkable to see the number of government helicopters in the skies over New York–and the military trucks and personnel. This afternoon I spoke with US Forest Service crew in my neighborhood–Queens–clearing roadways: the person I talked to, from Arkansas, had never been in NYC before. He said he was working with USFS crews from Texas, Wisconsin, and Ohio. Thanks, welcome to NYC, and come back sometime when we’re all feeling better.
And finally, attributed to the Daily News . . . LARCs come ashore on Belle Harbor, Queens to assist. Click on the foto to get the Daily News story.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp, except that story and fantastic foto by Vera Chinese the NY Daily News.
After coming home last night, I finally finished reading Rockwell Kent‘s 1929 memoir N by E. Rockwell Kent lived for a time on the curve at 1262 Richmond Terrace (Staten Island) just east of the Caddell Dry Dock. N by E tells the story of his shipwreck on the western shore of Greenland near Godthaab and subsequent struggle to survive. Here are some teaser excerpts.
“We lay, caught in the angle of a giant step of rock, keel on the tread and starboard side on the riser; held there by wind and sea; held there to lift and pound; to lift so buoyantly on every wave; to drop–crashing our 13 iron-shod tons on granite. There, the perfection of our ship revealed itself; only, that having struck just once, she ever lived, a ship, to lift and strike again. … wind, storm, snow, rain, hail, lightning and thunder, earthquake and flood.” (page 132) Some time later, the three crew save what supplies they can and scramble up the rocks to safety. Kent again: ”The three men stand there looking at it all [including the wreckage of their vessel Direction] … at last one of them speaks. ’It’s right,’ he says, ‘that we should pay for beautiful things. And being here in this spot, now, is worth traveling a thousand miles for, and all that it has cost us. Maybe we have lived only to be here now.’” (144) And later “It was clear to us that the boat would remain on the ledge and even be, at low tide, partly out of the water. She appeared to have been completely gutted … the forecastle hatch now stood uncovered and every sea came spouting through it like a geyser, bearing some quaint contribution to the picturesque assortment that littered the rocks and water. Books, paper, painting canvas, shoes, socks, eggs, potatoes: we fished up what we could.” (148)
Somehow Kent found himself ennobled in that personal disaster. There’s hope. It’s also a good read.
Last foto here passed along by Justin Zizes Jr . . partly submerged fishing boat in Sheepshead Bay.
I took all these fotos this morning. First, here’s the ashoremost portion of John B Caddell in the parking lot waterside of Edgewater Drive, roughly across from the Clifton*** Staten Island Railroad stop. After being delivered from RTC Shipbuilding in Camden, NJ in mid-December 1941, she has come to her end. Most of her life she delivered petroleum products, not water. Click here for a foto of her at work in the sixth boro six years ago.
Looking eastward, one might imagine a beautiful day under dramatic clouds, with the current pilot boat New York in the spotlight, in
an otherwise unusually empty Upper Bay.
An especially clean street here belies
debris left strewn on the street showing how high the surge rose and
leaving behind vile stuff like dozens (!) of vials of blood . . . with recognizable names on them!
Alice Austen house, about a mile farther south,
was spared, but just.
Neighbors on lower land began the cleanup.
And the Kills and Upper Bay, devoid of traffic, had a few vessels checking navigation channels.
To reiterate, I found the scattered vials with blood along Edgewater Drive very disturbing. I called 311.
From a mariner’s perspective whose truck got flooded while he was working afloat, click hawsepiper here.
For a report on the storm from a high-rise over the East River, click here for Vlad and Johna’s blog.
*** Six months ago another vessel washed up on another beach called Clifton here.
Foto below was taken on this date last year . . . October 30, 2011, the morning after last season’s ONLY significant snowfall in/around the sixth boro.
And a sad series here . . . alongside the red vessels John J. Harvey and lightship Frying Pan . . . Bounty at Pier 66 Manhattan in late June 2009. RIP Bounty and
those lost with her.
As of 0800 today, four cargo vessels cluster in the general vicinity of her sinking. Coincidence?
In the large funnel area off the sixth boro, the seas are unusually empty. Maersk Misaki continues to zigzag (Is that called stemming in this case?) as she has for the past 24 hours.
Around Manhattan, 0800 AIS also shows pilot boats and larger passenger vessels keeping out of harm’s way in the stream.
Ditto Upper Bay and Newark Bay and adjoining waterways. No Staten Island ferries run at this time.
Updates when safely procured. From the news . . . with all their errors, John B. Caddell ashore in one of my “offices.” As I understand it, John B. Caddell has been idle on Staten Island since being sold foreign about two years ago.
Also, here’s bowsprite’s drawing of Bounty from three years back.