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Personal disclosure: I used to enjoy playing football, but I’ve never watched a Super Bowl game. I certainly have no feelings at all about any team, any sport. But with all this talk of seahawks and broncos on ground hog day, I’m not oblivious: ground pork meatballs will go in my lunch stew. This morning over coffee I decided to look up the history of the two teams soon to engage in New Jersey. So the first owner of the broncos originally (prior to 1960) had a team called the bears. And one of the two first investors in the seahawks was a Ned Skinner, scion of the Skinner & Eddy shipyard in Seattle and himself last owner/operator of the Alaska Steamship Company.
Anyhow . . . enjoy this digressive post, one that zags and zigs through a number of critters–like Stolt Bobcat–I’ve seen in the past year, as
well as this unusual logo on the side of a junked truck,
first signs of winter on the sixth boro,
my favorite fishing bird,
a quite effective gull,
my company atop a mountain in January River,
disciples of a certain waterborne tagger along the KVK,
the only good rat I’ve seen in a while over at Sal Polisi’s shop near South Street Seaport,
a beached shark, and finally
some docked rays struggling in the light of morning sun’s rays over by Owl’s Head. And speaking of rays and ground hog . . .
I’m guessing Staten Island and Punxsutawney pick on ground hogs just because there are no convenient bears or badgers around to consult about winter weather.
Last critter word here, see a sea hawk and a bronco go toe-to-toe here.
Here was an earlier critter post.
All fotos by Will Van Dorp, who’s now off to grind the pork.
Ooops! here’s one more critter link . . . from gCaptain, an inside look at a cattle/livestock carrier.
And another loops! Read this NJstarledger article about birds here.
Aug 31. A late summer day at the beach, where a new “towel drying rack” has been adopted and a bumper crop
of sand awaits the erosion of winter, perhaps? All photos here taken by Barbara Barnard.
Sept 1. A tug (Trevor?) moves a crane barge to where the “drying rack”/piping needs to be fished out for transport to the next job.
Sept 13. The remaining pipe on the beach, no longer serving to dry swimmers’ towels, awaits dismantling and
allows for closer inspection.
This Rockaway series was of course motivated by Hurricane Sandy and the photos of Rockaway by my friend Barbara in the past 12 months. Barbara, many thanks. Here was my Nemo to Flag Day post, which started with a mystery house.
Click here for a project/business entirely created by the devastation of trees during the storm. It’s not maritime, water, or even specifically landthreshold related, but is quite interesting.
The other side of the boro . . . the strand on Coney Island, sees a visitation of finnyfolk, who briefly leave the water for this sun festival. Enjoy this field guide to western North Atlantic merpeople. These came in a replica of Nefertiti’s royal barge.
Labor Day weekend is upon us again, but I can’t remember when it seemed quite this polarized, although if you read the first two sentences in the section here called “history,” maybe the celebration of the day was born in conflict, polarization, and then reaching out for solidarity. Check out the Post editorials from the Washington and the Huffington. I liked this foto essay in the New York Times Magazine here.
For many of the first 20 years of my life, living on a farm where Labor Day was a holiday in name only since harvest had to be taken then, I heard that on “labor day” one labored. End of story. And that was not such a bad way to spend the day. Work challenges,
Al fotos by Will Van Dorp.
Janis Joplin did my all-time favorite rendition of Summertime. I like how she takes it furiously into flight, almost like these boats, her sibilants and band’s cymbals in places like electric cicadas.
If your daddy’s rich . . . or at least willing to put some money into a boat . . . that is if he can after the S & P downgrade . ..
Or if you’re lucky when you play the flight board . . . with StndAIR…
Then you really might finally spread your wings and (leaping over the East River Ferry) . . . .
take the sky… topping the crown of Queens.
That’s Will Van Dorp’s version, who took these fotos. Here’s Janis Joplin’s, once when she kept it together and did nothing to harm herself. A seaplane on the East River appeared here quite long ago. Still, these booted seaplanettes pale in comparison with the old Aeromarine airships that used to link the North and Raritan Bay with Florida.
Some interesting postscripts:
1) BRBRbrooklyn caught FDNY’s greeting SUNY Maritime’s Empire State return this morning . . . while I was still drinking my coffee!!
2) Hats off to Stephen Askew, superintendent of North River Waste Treatment Plant, for his recent heroic captaining of a raft, a true friend of all denizens of the sixth boro.
3) News about the “troop carrier” found buried deep in the foundation of the World Trade Center . . . . Revolutionary War troop carrier that is.
A WTF!@#@! postscript too”
Lady Liberty appears in many fotos on this blog, including one above. Do you know what Rev. John Benefiel thinks about Bartholdi’s lady? Fie!!!
All fotos here were taken by Scot Surbeck and come thanks to Julian Marsano, who blogs as PioneerSailing. The moral of the story is that extreme weather can move in quickly, as happened two weeks ago when a squall galloped into the sixth boro at 30 mph, bringing in 45+ mph gusts. Manhattan Sailing School J-24s were racing in regular midweek evening regatta under the flag of Manhattan Sailing Club. Gusts hit Great Republic first, the boat with GR on the sail, knocking her flat.
Thanks much to Julian for these pics and this story.
Question: any guesses what/where this structure is? Answer follows.
Dry Tortugas Light on Loggerhead Key–three miles from Fort Jefferson– first illuminated navigators in 1858, this month 143 years ago.
The first light in the Dry Tortugas-a place to stock up on turtle meat-was first lit in 1826, but according to the tour guide, that brick light tower was razed in 1877 because its location too often directed approaching vessels over reefs to their doom.
Fort Jefferson-the unfinished coastal fortress also known as the second largest masonry structure on Earth (after the Great Wall of China)–would never have been started if the US government had heeded the 1825 recommendation of US Navy Commodore David Porter (adoptive father of the future Admiral David G. Farragut!!) because of its lack of fresh water and stable bedrock for foundations. Four years later, the US government accepted the recommendation of the next Commodore–John Rodgers–and began construction of the structure that failed in the ways Porter predicted and was obsolete before it approached completion.
By the way, Porter had an intriguing career, including being prisoner of both the Barbary pirates (1803-5) and the British Navy (1814) but also Captain of US naval vessels, court-martialee after his unauthorized invasion of Fajardo, commander-in-chief of the Mexican Navy (1826-29), and US ambassador to the Barbary States and Turkey. Imagine someone trying to do those things in that order today.
In the foto below, notice the different colored bricks.
The bricks of different colors reflect the origin of the brick: again . . . according to the tour guide, bricks produced in the South before the Civil War have resisted time well. After 1861, bricks came here from Maine (!) and have fared less well in this climate.
If you imagine you see window air conditioners where guns should be, you are NOT imagining that. National Park Service employees live inside the Fort and have added contemporary creature comforts.
Key West Light–through various remodelings– has stood here since 1847.
Less than a block away is the house where Hemingway lived in the 1930s.
You might call it a “cat house” today, where the dozens of poly-toed cats have names like Picasso and Dickinson and Truman . . .
Time for a few Hemingway quotes? “There is no rule on how to write. Sometimes it comes easily and perfectly; sometimes it’s like drilling rock and then blasting it out with charges.” And “The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”
But check out this title! I’d imagined he’d say something like “There is no way to make good pictures . . . the best way to make them is . . . to make them.”
At least Hemingway had taste in naming his boat . . . which I hope to see some day, not easy to do because Pilar is at Finca Vigia in Cuba. More fotos here. Pilar was once in Brooklyn! Brooklyn’s Wheeler Shipyard (I believe it was in or near the Navy Yard) made out a bill of sale to the writer on April 18, 1934 for a “38-foot twin cabin Playmate cruiser” with “one [75 hp] Chrysler Crown reduction gear engine” and “4-cylinder Lycoming straight drive engine” for trolling for a grand total of $7455. For a thread on a discussion board related to Pilar, click here. Pilar was Hemingway’s q-boat.
My question is this: How did Pilar get from Brooklyn to Key West? Did someone make a delivery by water? Ship? Train? And does anyone know if Valhalla, Pilar’s sistership, has been restored after its accidental sinking in 2007?
So that first building . . . here’s the rest of it as seen from Jacksonville Beach. It’s the 1946-built Art Deco life saving station, not a lighthouse at all. A beauty though.
All fotos 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.
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.
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.
Trawler Fluke . . here today . . . who knows where next month.
Ventura lives in North Cove and sails here outside the Narrows.
All fotos taken in the past weeks by Will Van Dorp.