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I knew it was coming.  VHF chatter alluded to it.  AIS showed it.  And for going on 10 minutes I’d heard it . . . sound, at intervals of not more than two minutes, a prolonged blast, of which I’d heard no fewer than five . . .

Then in addition to the chest-penetrating blasts, I became aware of a low rpm throbbing. When the bow first appeared, it came with no hint of what followed.

A gray ship on a mild but foggy winter’s day . . . its size seems exaggerated.  It was so foggy that Bergen Point was closed to all traffic over a certain tonnage, although waivers could be requested and granted.

 

The white bridge remained invisible.

 

It seemed the vessel tiptoed out,

restrained by the Moran tug.

And after she had passed, the stern remained visible as the bow blended into the fog.  The fog horn, now oriented away, seemed to have moved much farther than the ship had.

All photos by Will Van Dorp.

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