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I took six of these fotos with my camera and four with another, given to me, that costs three times as much as mine. Can you distinguish which is which? I realize I might NOT YET be able to get top performance from the second camera. Or maybe in this format it’s impossible to distinguish one from the other . .. because they’re like oil and oil. Or like these two tankers, contorted together like slugs in love. Ever seen slugs in . . . love?
Mahanadi Spirit gets assisted from her berth by
Answer is down a bit.
Slugs in love . . . I first saw it waiting at the commuter rail station a few weeks back at 6:15 am, thinking I should have had more coffee . . . .
Please . . . some feedback. Be blunt and frank about the quality of fotos on this blog. Pass the link onto any professional photographers even. I’m re-examining my aesthetic. And after seeing slugs in love, I can handle anything, even dragonfly love.
Answer: The first three were with my usual camera, then three with camera B, then
two one with mine, then one more with camera B, and the last two were with mine. The two cameras in question were mine (SP 590-UZ Olympus) whose weight and zoom capability I love and a Sony Cyber-shot DSC R1.
Also, check out this very moving 12-minute video called Boatlift, an effort to evacuate Lower Manhattan 10 years ago using the fastest, safest route out. In the past week, New York harbor aka the sixth boro has seen a large vessel as
well as these small ones, RIBs. They seem to be everywhere, but
along with RBMs (in the distance) and vessels
A parting thought . . I think it’s possible that folks who have never lived in NYC might have a hard time understanding New Yorkers. I’m just a transplant here, but I understand the sentiments described in this NYTimes article by N. R. Kleinfield.
All fotos except the last one by Will Van Dorp.
Coney Island–the reef–has existed within the sixth boro since time immemorial, this gathering has occurred since 1983, and tugster has blogged it since 2007, drawn by the natural beauty of creatures–like this one– with
breathing behavior in dry–if muggy- air, and … more.
But I couldn’t help noticing yesterday that . . . as the mermaids school on this reef, so does another species . . . camera-bearers. Even chief-liaison Dick Zigun has cameras turned on him.
And mermaids themselves sport cameras, maybe as mimicry.
OK, all fotos here by Will Van Dorp.
Totally related: in the third foto from end above . . . one mermaid sported a tugboat atop her hear but my shot was blurry. Also, I missed a shot of the “librarian mermaids,” which, if anyone got, I’d love a link or a copy.
Here’s a game: I show part of a foto, and you might try to identify the vessel . . .
an answer of Marion C. Bouchard would have been correct. Doubleclick enlarges most.
Let’s start here. Although I didn’t take this foto, I did refer to it recently on this blog. Note the logo. Any guesses?
those can’t be superhigh steamer stacks, can they?
angular hull profile
tiny tires as fenders, or …
Terrapin Island has a stack forward of the house.
The unique Odin tailed by Ross Sea over by the Goethals Bridge. Ross Sea seems to sprout a massive starboard stack here. Anyone know whose stacks those really are?
Lois Ann L. Moran
Huge tires, actually, on the gargantuan Atlantic Salvor.
And here’s the final one. It’s Break of Dawn. When I read that the tug that had the misfortunate to take the job of towing Mobro 4000, I assumed it was a local independent tug, not a fleet sibling of Dawn Services. This blog has run fotos of Baltic Dawn and Atlantic Dawn.
For a fuller story of the motivations behind the “garbage job,” read this, starting from p. 243.
For the artistic story behind the children’s book, see this link for the series of decisions and sketches involved in creating the story. As a disclaimer … I haven’t read the book and realize some controversy surrounds it, but check out the Amazon page video about the author’s process in creating the artwork. To me, one important story here is an honest ambitious crew doing a job that captures them, transforming them into pawns of a diverse, far-flung, and powerful interest groups.
The Break of Dawn fotos come thanks to Harold Tartell. All others by Will Van Dorp.
And talking about being pawns . . . my account of my time as a hostage in Iraq exactly 20 years ago is reaching its climax on the Babylonian Captivity site. If you’ve not been reading it, my detention lasted from August until December 1990; to read the account in chronological order, see the note upper right on the homepage.
No, “southern juice” is not a nautical expression bowsprite left off her recent illustrated vocabulary instruction; rather, it’s the radiant machine below. For a tanker built a quarter century go, Southern Juice moves as a thing of beauty, (I’ll say it), like a woman whose presence intensifies as she ages, she who dazzles and delights in her 40s and beyond. (OK, I said it, and really what scintillates is the fusion of her contentment/good maintenance/my perception.) In this last hour before sunset, I set down my water–even though my throat was parched–just because studying this vessel of an impossible color demanded undivided attention. The juice tanker’s back in town, bringing Brazilian sunshine and irrepressible smiling in the dark time.
ok, OK. I’ve long ‘fessed up to my drinking habit. I need orange juice morning, noon, night . . . and then even in the middle of the night when I make my 3 a.m. surfacing.
Juice tankers going global represents a human activity occupying just the thinnest of slices in time. Did juice transport begin in the 70s? 60s? I’ve no clue. But it does remind me of other commodity transport that no longer exists, like
the ice trade: slabs of lake ice cut by gangs, packed in sawdust first in barns and then later in wooden ships, and ultimately sailed to tropical ports so that colonials stationed in the sweaty climes could have ice cubes in their punch. And then there was a time of milk trains, a term I knew of from the farm boy perspective and therefore only partially understood, imagined from the supply side. And hay schooners (scroll down to first foto) coming into metropolises to feed the transporters. Were there manure boats too . . . or was it assumed the sixth boro could process that, satiating the oysters and sturgeon?
Now we have congested highways and road rage! In 2109, probably no more juice tankers. Will milk trains return? And when might road rage dissipate? And maybe I need to move to a locale where I can tend my own orange grove . . . now that’s an idea.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
Seriously: can anyone suggest a person to contact to arrange a visit to Port Newark and an offloading juice tanker? Really, it’s the SECOND highest priority experience I’d like the fat ageless elf to arrange for me.
And just an idea: if one dog year equals seven human years, then how many human years correspond to one ship year? If the answer is–arbitrarily chosen–two, then the beautiful Southern Juice is at the half century mark. Hmm.
Reference “Random Tugs 44.” The first time I saw Lil Rip, I didn’t even take a foto: I was in the Feeney yard on the Rondout, steady rain was creating lots of mud, and the only parts of Lil Rip visible to me was the house and name. But that was enough to intrigue me. Months later, I spotted it a second time: also in the Rondout dwarfed by almost 80′ of air draft on Java Sea.
On this September afternoon, I took only a few shots before I wrapped my camera in plastic.
A month later, third time to spot Lil Rip, October light and a fresh coat of paint . . . conditions could not have been better. Wow! I shot as many fotos as my shore office would allow, homing in on some details like the twin exhausts port side and
and single to starboard.
I put up some preliminary fotos and a question a week ago, and have since learned more, which I’m thrilled to share. Example: Three exhausts ventilate three engines, three GM12V-71 engines that generate 1500 hp and spin three screws. I’d love to see her on the hard now.
Part of Lil Rip began as a 52′ section of Liberty ship being scrapped at the scrap yard of John and Violet Reich. For a name, they called her Jovi II, combining the first two letters of John and Violet’s names. Jovi II replaced a smaller boat, Jovi. Does Jovi still exist? Jovi II‘s twin engines generated just under 500 hp and moved scrap scows up and down the Hudson.
Thomas J. Feeney Enterprises purchaed Jovi II in the early 1980s, repowered and outfitted with bunk room, galley and new pilothouse. The new name Little Ripper eventually changed to a more manageable Lil Rip. For some time Lil Rip moved stone scows in the river, but today is used mostly to shift vessels around the yard, with an occasional river tow to Albany or New York, which is where
I spotted her last week, leading to my learning all this new info. And adopting another favorite from upriver: Kingston and the Rondout are home to so many interesting vessels. I’ll take a risk (of leaving someone out) and list them: Cornell, now all-gray Hackensack, Spooky Boat, Hestia, 1956 Gowanus Bay (former ST 2201 and a major character in Jessica Dulong’s My River Chronicles, 1881 tug Elise Ann Conners, and PT728. Who did I omit? The Rondout is a must-visit creek if you’re nearby.
Is Lil Rip the only triple screw on the Hudson? Is anyone willing to share a foto of Jovi II?
Thanks to Tim Feeney and Harold Tartell for some of this information. All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
Unrelated: a hearty tugster salute to engineer Tommy Bryceland, working the North Sea aboard Svitzer Milford. Send me some news and fotos from your part of the waters, Tommy.
W . . . worry. No way! work? nah. Wonderment and wanderlust resonate much more profoundly, leaving me hungering for new vistas and thirsting for novel experience. Sometimes this may be slaked by a two-hour sail on the incomparable Pioneer, a vessel with a century and a quarter’s life.
Or a sprint aboard the harbor’s greyhound . . . Adirondack.
According to IBI (International Boating Industry) statistics, 1 in 23 Americans owns a boat, whereas in Sweden that number is 1 in 7 and in China virtually no one does. See statistics here. Some quench their thirst for wandering then aboard their own boat, like this sloop from Rhode Island, headed up past Pier 66 or
or this mini-trawler from Texas up by Poughkeepsie or
of this larger trawler from
Wanderlust for a vacation is real though compartmentalized into a small percentage of the year. What would it be like to choose an occupation that would
take you all around the world (the 70.8 percent of the planet’s surface that’s navigable) all the time, as on this container vessel Zim Shenzhen. Would it always soothe the spirit or would it make one
wary . . . and weary. Can feelings like weariness co-exist with wanderlust?
Where does wanderlust with all its curiosity come from? Is it innate or learned at home?
I don’t know. But I do know I’m grateful for my wanderlusty nature, wherever it may lead.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp.
Unrelated: I highly highly recommend you wander up to SUNY New Paltz to see Greg Miller‘s “Panorama of the Hudson River.” Traveling in various boats including Adirondack this spring, Miller took about 3000 fotos documenting every single section of the Hudson–west AND east bank–between the Statue of Liberty and Albany. The results are assembled in a sinuous print in the Samuel Dorsky Museum of Art. Tugs by Vane Brothers, Moran, and McAllister randomly show up. As if Miller”s accomplishment were not wondrous enough, what makes it even more remarkable is that Miller’s panorama is juxtaposed with G. Willard Shear’s 1910 panorama of all that same geography. In other words, 2009 shot of the Statue of Liberty is directly above the 1910 one. Ditto the Palisades, Dunderberg Mountain, Storm King, etc. You ask about the George Washington Bridge . . . oops . . . in 1910 the GW was not even planned for. And the coup de grace . . . in the adjoining gallery is displayed an 1844 sketchbook designed to help steamer passengers identify riverbank features . . . like the ones I mentioned above. Along with towns and ridgelines, quaint drawing of steamers appear. Like a steamer named River Witch. (Now that’s a name begging to be recycled!) Another, a steam tug pulling a separate passenger barge, designed to keep passengers far away from the boiler.
Also, unrelated, check out this great blog created by the crew of a tanker called Palva, which sometimes calls in the sixth boro. Tugster examined Palva here, back in April 2007. Greetings Palva! When are you back in New York?
Finally related by topic: Fielding, whom I know from sailing on Pioneer, is following his wanderlust in South America. His blog–Under the Northern Star–is listed on my blogroll.
Jeff Anzevino posted these shots of fotorazzi extraordinaire atop tug44 on his picasa page about the Waterford Tug RoundUp. Jeff is giving a slide show in White Plains on Sept 15 (That’s THIS Monday) at the “Color Camera Club.” For directions and program, click here. According to Jeff, his show will feature aerials of the Hudson River (Yonkers north to Columbia County), tugspotting photos he’s made over the past decade, and brand new NYC and Waterford fest photos.
I’m glad Jeff’s didn’t capture my expression just after Fred sounded his airhorns and I almost thought to dive for safety into the Hudson.
Below, inside a Hudson River barge below, Jack Casey debuted rousing songs from his play called “The Trial of Bat Shea,” to be performed in Troy, NY, on Sept 19, 20. For more info, scroll through the Renssalaer County Historical Society site. Deft musicianship, rousing then haunting lyrics, unflinching emotional presence . . . that’s how I’d describe the pieces Jack played in the barge. “… Bat Shea” tells a true story of a rigged election, unjust murder conviction, and callous execution of a man known to be innocent. And Jack . . . hope you make a CD soon.
Also, coming up soon, it’s Riverkeeper’s NY Waterfest . . . a celebration of the sixth boro as a place to play and work. Sept 28: 3rd annual Waterfest in New York City’s Battery Park City. A day dedicated to raising awareness about the importance of the Hudson River to New York’s history, commerce, arts, and culture, as well as the sources of and threats to NYC’s drinking water supply. Speakers, water sports, hands on activities for all ages, a green village and more!
The Dutch call this month augustus, with a happy throat trill on the “g,” and it sounds like the title. The adjective “august” means “inspiring awe and reverence.” Bernie Ente of the Working Harbor Committee took these shots this week on one of their public tours and I’m thrilled to pass them along. Wow! I’ve not seen Pioneer looking more magnificent.
Finally, the Falls have attracted thousands . . . millions? . . . to the East River this summer. The first millisecond I saw this foto of Bernie’s I thought “rare bird,” imagining the tail as head of an avian and starboard horizontal stabilizer as bill not unlike a hummingbird’s. Appropriately, the tug is Swift.
I look at these shots, sigh, and reflect on the sublime aka the most August.
Unrelated, some panamax cranes arrived at the Narrows this morning, but I couldn’t stick around to watch them squeeze under VNB.
Such excitement I felt today when email came with these fotos by Shuli Hallack as attachments. At her site, she has a series on cargoes, which you can see on exhibit in Manhattan at Moti Hasson Gallery through June 29, so go soon. At the gallery the prints are poster size.
To do some of the work, Shuli traveled via the banana ship Charles Island from the sixth boro to Ecuador. At this site, see images of the hold. Any guesses on how many bananas make a shipfull? Let me see . . . 21,000 boxes @ N bananas per box . . . I’m sure someone will hazard a guess. The shot below shows a McAllister tug assisting an outbound Ever Diamond set up to negotiate the Bayonne Bridge.
Here’s another angle on that shift of Ever Diamond. I believe the shot looks toward Staten Island, but I can’t place the landmarks.
From this angle, Ever Diamond looks deceptively small.
Many thanks to Shuli Hallack for these fotos.