is actually a euphemism for “catching up,” which is all that’s on my plate today. Like a month ago, I intended to put up a link to a west coast tugboat blog. So here it is: fremonttugboat.
Otherwise, this post comes from scrolling back through fotos I’ve taken (and not used, I think) since late spring 2009. Try it yourself: Put up your number of images (your fotos, else’s, your drawings, else’s) and comment on their place in your life. Go back your chosen length of time, et voila, you have your very own retrospective!
Communication: nothing fancy here as the deck keeps eye on work and skipper while the skipper pokes head out the window to see and hear. Makes for clear communication, without which we in any endeavor face peril.
Community: it takes a strong bond between several rivertowns and watersheds to build a boat. If I squint, I see this motely corps of volunteers literally carrying Onrust to the water on their shoulders. Ok, I squint hard.
Contentment: or “peace” if you will. What matters it that this man is sitting where he finds it; it matters not that he’s across from a huge oil depot and a dredged waterway allowing ingress and egress for dozens of billions of dollars or ducats of goods each year. Here he is content. Like someone I know who spent weeks living beside refinery and tolerating it by imagining the hiss and roar emanated from a pristine jungle waterfall.
Charm: the Hudson River Valley happens to be a place of profound beauty and it mesmerizes me. But the eye of the beholder generates a portion of that charm. Open eyes will find it anywhere and in everything. A resident of this Valley published THAT BOOK on this date in 1851 . Know which one? Answer at end.
Curiosity: the sixth boro is a complex place geographically, historically, … you or I could continue this list. Here, like anywhere, it seems the more you notice, the less time remains to wonder about all the new things. What is this cove called over just north of Fresh Kills? Writing on vessels from foreground to back say RTC1, Crow, Relentless, and Cedar Marina. Does a road lead here?
More curiosity: What is this vessel that traversed to the north in front of Bowsprite’s cliff this summer? What cargo did it transport? What time warp did it emerge from?
Craziness: since writing about faces as prompted by the Robert brothers tome, I’ve had a blast with this. This one . . . an orange boar (not bore) with tusks in place of dolly partons. May some craziness–and a sense of humor about it– be evident everywhere.
Constancy: 1965 Near the St. Lawrence Seaway my father took this foto of a 13-year-old who became tugster. I was already out tracking down info for the yet-to-be blog back then, way before blogs, digital cameras, computers of the ilk we know. Some stuff doesn’t change. Shouldn’t disappear.
It’s unrealistic to stop after a half dozen fotos, but . . . discipline is imposed.
My last post fer a while . . .gone fishing for something. See you in a few with new tales. Sindbad calls us to muster. I tried unsuccessfully to find a Gordon Bok video-version of this, but this and this . . . a nice innocent feel too.
All fotos, except the ones by bowsprite and my father, by Will Van Dorp.