Dynamic Sixth Boro

Bowsprite tattooed my back about two years ago, and I never felt a thing, didn’t even know about it til a few days later.  See evidence in the eighth foto here.  The tattoo she incised had the best feature: dynamism.  Without  washing or submitting myself to laser-burn or chemical-peel ink removal, that design–beautiful as it was– disappeared; pristine skin prevailed and could morph again.

Being a tabula rasa is the beauty of the sixth boro as it exists today.  Not pristine as 500 years ago, it’s nevertheless mostly cleaner than it was 50 years ago.  And unencumbered.  The land right down to the sea’s threshold submits to the struggles and gainful laborings of planners and builders, but the water resists.  Change is constant here, like light.

May the two above paragraphs exorcise the defensiveness I’m feeling these days.  Repeatedly I feel restored by the surprises borne in and out upon the expanse of water I call the sixth boro.  Like this, yesterday.  I dismissed it at first as a replica.

But it turns out to be the real thing:  A Trumpy built at Mathis Yacht Building Company in 1926, now restored, a near-sister of the yacht that hosted seven US presidents.

One goal I had yesterday was to get a frontal shot of the figurehead on Eos, but not finding a conveyance, this is the best I could get of Anh Duong‘s work.  Today these eyes behold . . .  the cliffs of Hoboken; some months from now they may look upon the skyline of Moorea Bay.

Bold  (ex-Victorious) . . .  I saw her sail past us on Delaware Bay;  eight months ago and thousands of miles later, she glides through the Narrows.

In hazy light, CGC Ridley and Gibraltar-flagged cargo vessel Bremer Johanna seem flat-bottomed shapes floating in ether in front of a geometric continent.

Trawler Fluke . .  here today . . . who knows where next month.

Tug Mary Beth D (ex-Fort Edisto, 1954) pushes a Weeks scow past inbound MOL Endeavor. Last time I saw Mary Beth D,  the creeks on the south side of Raritan Bay were  encrusted.

Ventura lives in North Cove and sails here outside the Narrows.

Anthony L Miller reminds this curvaceous yacht to respect the “slow bell;”  Lazzara doesn’t design exactly my kind of vessel, but the sixth boro is a summer stop in the migrations of Spring Time.

A final shot for now . . . looking into the wheelhouse of that 1926 Trumpy, as helmsman surveys the open spaces ahead.

My vision of the sixth boro . . .  keep it dynamic.

All fotos taken in the past weeks by Will Van Dorp.

Winds of December

Fundraiser TONIGHT Dec 1, 2010 for the tug Pegasus!!  It’s unfortunate that I have to work elsewhere tonight.

A short post today . . .  it’s December and just to call it windy out is an understatement along the lines of saying that in winter the sixth boro is less hot than in June, that sex is just exercise, and that this video is a fenderbender.

Oh, well . . .  enjoy these fotos: Specialist II slings a string (strings along a sling?) of rock scows into the confluence of the East (so-called) River and the Hudson.  That’s

Red Hook container port in the background, with the nose of Mary Whalen protruding from behind the blue warehouse.

And here’s a catch-up from my Philly posts of last week:  when Captain Dann towed the Lockwood 2002 barge south-bound the cargo looked

all boxed up like this.  Maybe something headed south or east for Sinterklaas?

Nah.

All fotos by Will Van Dorp.

Thanks to Carolina Salguero of PortSide NewYork for calling that video to my attention.

And since I’m linking to videos today, see this one, a music video that uses the Witte scrapyard as backdrop.  I really like the music, but I think the ship remains in the Arthur Kill location should be the main event, NOT the backdrop.

June Fishing in the Sixth Boro

In previous posts we pondered winter fishing and puzzled about East River fishing.  Yesterday I caught wind of a fishing competition between Gelberman and Hayward, two vessels operated in the New York District of the US Corps of Engineers.

The fishing began the very instant the echo of the starter’s signal boomed across the boro.  Gelberman was first out the KVK with

Hayward right behind.  But the first rod to tilt upward belonged to Hayward . . . aware of what all drifts beneath the surface.

After what seemed an epic  struggle worthy of Santiago’s, Hayward gained the upper hand, raising the crane skyward although

the prey twisted and turned, prolonging the fight, clawing back to remain in the murky fluff.

The quarry now secured, two helmeted Junetime fisherfolk posed with their trophy, which gets classified

by a dear fellowblogger as Junk.  I sincerely hope bowsprite has kept her eye open for other junk, infiltrating the boro and threatening our way of life.  Junk is junk after all, whether it be Detritus rectangulus furnitureus or Detritus rectangulus aluminumensis.

Thanks to the Corps of Engineers for their efforts in many domains.

Unrelated:  I’m happy but shocked to read about Coast Guard plans for Deepwater oil washing towards . . . . Long Island!    Plans are good, but . . .