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Years ago I did “headwaters 1, 2, and 3.”
Everyone likely in the US knows the Thomas Tusser line saying that April showers do spring May Flowers.” Maybe someone’s already written about January cold spawning February plans, and then when March comes along, well . . . march means MOVE. Maybe someone has a more eloquent, more Tusseresque way of expressing this.
In my case, I bought a USA Rail Pass and activated it yesterday, am doing right now what I did decades ago with a Eurail Pass. Maybe some of you have done one pass or the other as well. For me, this March is mostly rail and then rental car to see places I’ve long wanted to see.
Now as I’m into my 72 lap of the sun, I’m wondering how I got where I am, how I became this person resulting from all the lefts and rights I’ve made at all the forks in the roads and intersections. This is what I’m exploring this month: headwaters posts looking back and rail photos looking and moving forward. Yes, there’ll be as many boats in these posts as I notice and can get photos of. If you don’t fancy personal reflection, sorry.
When I was 18, I was in college as a pre-med student. I loved the idea of being a doctor–others praised me for it too. But what did I or they know about that occupation? In my case, nothing. Long, painstaking bio and chem labs told me clearly that medical science was not my path. So I became an English major, not knowing where it’d lead, but I enjoyed my humanities classmates more than my science ones. Boats? The only ones I’d ever been in were canoes. I still love canoes, and I have done my share of messing around in them. Cameras? Digital was the thing only of sci-fi.
In my last year in college, I sent out two applications: one to the US Navy and one to the US Peace Corps. USN never contacted me, but USPC did, and after many application materials and tasks, invited me to train to go to Zaire. Honestly, I had to look up where that was, since the name change from Democratic Republic of the Congo had only just been made. Over a beer or two, I’ll tell you how myself and fellow trainees got detained for two days in Uganda, our first stop in Africa, and accused of being mercenaries, not an illogical accusation given what was happening in the waning days of colonialism in Southern Africa and the fact that two-thirds of our group was male, under 25, and bearers of new passports, but I digress. I had an Instamatic and one roll of film with me, and I witnessed that Idi Amin had the same camera because I saw him take a photo of our group with one he pulled out of his jacket pocket.
A year ago, I did three long posts on my Congo River experiences in 1973, half a century ago now. You can read all that here. One day in 1974, this hospital ship–Mama Yemo--came up the Lulonga, the Congo River tributary passing the clearing where I worked. Locals came knocking on my door, saying “your sister is here.” This was plausible given that all my sisters were nurses, and in those days, news traveled slowly by letter. It turns out “my sister” was a Canadian nurse, and she invited me on board for a tour of the facilities.
Obviously, no AIS existed back then, nor did the internet or cell service. My eyes, touring the ship, must have seen a much different set of details than would have caught my eye today. For example, the nurse and I lingered in the operating room suites but not the bridge; we toured the pharmacy but not the engine room. As I said, I was a different person back then.
A decade and a half later, in 1989, I had some identity as a professional, but I lived here, the last house–a camp really– on a dead end road in New Hampshire. It was a hideout. No, I was not doing criminal acts or being a fugitive from the law. Everything was above board, I had a full-time job, but a) the woods and the river nearby was idyllic, and b) life was truly idyllic there, either canoeing, kayaking, hiking, and I was feeling in love.
This was my constellation of boats at the time; I owned a canoe and the kayak, but not lobster boat Bonnie Lou, for whom I lusted.
Of course, I’m leaving a lot out, but when my job near the NH border ended, I got a job in NYS, where I was appalled by the cost of housing. My solution was to buy an old wooden cabin cruiser, hire someone to do some preliminary work on it, and then live on it for a year in a tidal creek in SW Long Island outside the outer boros. The cabin cruiser–a 1965 Owens sort of like this–was cozy shelter for myself and a new love, ran on two thirsty gasoline engines, and never sank, but it took my a short time to realize that I would never restore it to the degree I imagined . . . to Bristol fashion; I sold the Owens and the dream to someone else, bought a fiberglass boat, and spent more time living on that tidal creek. One thing I learned is that wooden boats are much warmer in a northern winter than metal or fiberglass ones.
I owned a small weatherproof camera at the time, good when I hiked. I have a print of the Owens, as we called it, but I can’t find that 3.5 x 5″ glossy. Digital photography was still fairly new and I thought it’d be a fad. No tugboats ever came through this tidal creek, and if one had, I’d be too busy sanding or painting to pay much attention.
Eventually, I sold the fiberglass boat too, a trawler, and moved onto land.
And we’ll pick up the story in the next Headwaters episode.
or maybe I should say “more, Aphrodite!“
Many thanks to eastriver for these photos taken last summer. Just some specs first and then I’ll link to a number of articles I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did.
Built in 1937 for $90,000, adjusted to about $1,730,000 in 2021 money, Aphrodite has twin 1000 hp Caterpillars that can move the 74′ x 14.6′ x 4 boat quite fast; the greater the speed, the higher the fuel consumption, like a gallon of fuel per mile at 30 mph or 150 gallons/hour at 40 mph. A source of jokes, she’s the charge of Captain Kirk. Kirk is the first name; Reynolds the last name, but I’ll be he often goes by Captain Kirk. Her current owner is Charles Royce.
Here‘s more on all that and more.
She was built by the Purdy Boat Company of Port Washington NY for John Hay Whitney (1904–1982), of the prominent Whitney family. For a sense of the Mr Whitney, he was an art collector [and much more] with the works by Manet, Degas, Monet, Picasso, Cezanne, Gauguin, Renoir, Eakins, Van Gogh, etc. in his personal collection.
Current owner Chuck Royce counts Rhode Island’s Ocean House among his projects.
An 84 year old yacht does not look this good without massive amounts of restoration done by skilled professionals like the folks at the boat yard in Brooklin ME.
Her decks have been graced by such luminaries as FDR, Shirley Temple, Fred Astaire, Nelson Rockefeller . . . .
Many thanks to eastriver for sending along these closeup photos.
For more beautiful wooden yachts, click here and here and here. Oh sure, here too.
Today the sixth boro and environs face Henri, whose story is yet to be told. August 26, 2011 . . . I was at the Staten Island Ferry terminal, and these Hurricane Irene signs were up. When Irene’s story was told, it had done unusual damage upstate far from salt water; here’s more. Some repairs took until 2016 to complete. From here I took the ferry to Whitehall in Manhattan, and then over I walked to South Street Seaport, where I wanted to see storm preparations. See the story at the end of this post.
In late August 2011, I was documenting a slow decomposition, getting footage of what became a documentary film called Graves of Arthur Kill. Gary Kane was the producer; I was the director, or something. If you’ve not yet seen the documentary, you can order it by clicking on the disintegrating wooden tugboat image along the left aside of this blog page. Some of the vessels in this post are discussed by multiple sources in the documentary. Keep in mind that these photos and the footage in the doc recorded these scenes a decade ago, almost to the day. Hurricanes, freezing and thawing, and just plain daily oxidation have ravaged these already decrepit vessels for another 10 years, so if you were to go to these exact locations, not an easy feat, you’d see a devolution.
I’m not going to re-identify all these boats–already done elsewhere and in the doc–except to say we saw a variety of boats like this tanker above and the WW2 submarine chaser alongside it.
Other WW2 vessels repurposed for post-war civilian purposes are there. More were there but had been scrapped prior to 2011.
See the rust sprouting out from behind WW2 haze gray.
In the past decade, the steam stack on this coastal ferry has collapsed, and the top deck of the ferry to the right has squatted into the ooze below.
Some steel-hulled steam tugboats we never managed to identify much more than maybe attributing a name; they’d been here so long that no one remained alive who worked on them or wanted to talk about them.
We used a rowboat and had permission to film there, but the amount of decomposing metal and wood in the water made it nearly impossible to safely move through here. We never got out of the boat to climb onto any of these wrecks. That would be if not Russian roulette then possibly some other form of tempting fate.
Most emblematic of the boats there might be this boat, USS ATR-89, with its struggling, try-to-get-back-afloat stance. She was built in Manitowoc, WI, a town I’ve since frequently visited.
Wooden hulls, wooden superstructure . . . I’m surprised they’ve lasted as long as they have.
Since taking this photo in August 2011, I’ve learned a lot about this boat and its four sisters, one of whom is now called Day Peckinpaugh.
I’ve spent a lot of hours this month pulling together info on Day Peckinpaugh, launched as Interwaterways Line 101; the sister vessel above and below was launched in July 1921 in Duluth as Interwaterways Line 105. The ghost writing in the photo below says Michigan, the name she carried during the years she ran bulk caustic soda between the Michigan Alkali plant in Wyandotte MI and Jersey City NJ via the Erie Canal. Anyone local have photos of this vessel in the sixth boro or the Hudson River? I have a photo of her taken in 1947 transiting a lock in the NYS Canal system, but I’ll hold off on posting that for a few weeks when the stories come out. What you’re looking at above and below is the remnants of a vessel currently one century and one month old.
The Interwaterways Line boats were designed by Capt. Alexander McDougall, who also designed the whalebacks of the Great Lakes, like Meteor. Here‘s a whole blog devoted to McDougall’s whalebacks.
This ferry used to run between Newburgh and Beacon; on this day in August 2011, we just rowed our boat onto the auto deck.
At the beginning of this post I mentioned Hurricane Irene and going over to South Street Seaport Museum. Two of these vessels here have seen a lot of TLC$ in the past decade. That’s a good ending for now. Helen, with the McAllister stack, is still afloat and waiting.
All photos in August 2011, WVD.
A final sentiment on Graves of Arthur Kill . . . Gary Kane and I set out to document what was actually in this much-discussed boneyard; we wanted to name and show what existed, acknowledge what had existed but was already gone, and dispel some of the legends of this place. We were both very proud of the work and happy with this review in Wired magazine. If you still want to write a review, get in touch. It would be like writing a series review of Gilligan’s Island, but still a worthy exercise.
See the name on this black-hulled yacht? Note the simple upper helm?
Check again as we pass. I took these two photos back in July 2016, making that the Mt. Hope Bridge and beyond that, the Brayton Point cooling towers, now gone. Pilar? Maybe you’ve heard of it in relation to Hemingway and currently in Cuba.
Pilar was hull #576 from Wheeler Yacht Company, launched in 1934 and taken to Key West, not a water delivery until Miami. April 5, 1934 was the day Hemingway himself went to Coney Island to order his new boat, a 38′ Wheeler Playmate. That day is described well in this post. If you want to read hundreds more pages about the boat and Hemingway, read this tome by Paul Hendrickson. I read the 700-page book, hoping to learn more about Coney Island, but besides that, I learned the minutiae of all of Hemingway’s trips on the boat, which he last saw in 1960, when he was advised to leave Cuba and not long before his death. Pilar is still in Cuba, one of two Wheeler boats there. More on that at the end of this post.
The “Pilar” shown here was launched in 1933 as Elhanor, hull #527 and five feet shorter than Hemingway’s boat, a 38-footer that cost him just under $7500 in 1934.
Besides yachts, Wheeler on Coney Island Creek built vessels for the US Army, Navy, and Coast Guard. They built over 200 patrol boats for the USCG, like the one below. Click on the photo for more info. One is being restored in Seattle. Howard Wheeler opened his shipyard on Coney Island Creek in 1910, but by 1950, this facility and another in Queens, were gone.
Here’s the general location.
It’s a tidal waterway adjacent to the water portion of Gravesend Bay. I rowed up in and its many wrecks some years ago here and here. If you’ve never seen the yellow submarine aka Quester, here are photos.
Let have a look at the Wheeler Shipyard then and now. The b/w photos are all from Mystic Seaport, Rosenfeld Collection. That’s the Cropsey Avenue drawbridge open with a yacht coming through from the shipyard, looking from SW to NE. For a closer up look at the photo below, click on the photo.
Beyond that bridge, this was the exterior of the shipyard in January 1944; around a shipyard that builds wooden boats and ships, you’d expect to find lots of lumber.
And inside, you’d expect scenes of curved, clamped, and glued wood.
Here’s a photo I took of Cropsey Avenue Bridge, looking SE to NW, because it’s the shot I could get. Just off the left side of the photo is the Starbucks. From my location, I then shot SW to NE
to where the buildings of the shipyard would have been. Absolutely nothing of the yard remains. To the left is a parking lot and supermarket; to the right is a furniture store.
More info on Wheeler Coney Island can be found here. The other Wheeler boat in Cuba is Granma, the vessel that in 1956 took Fidel Castro and his fellows from Mexico to Cuba. The captain of the vessel then was Norberto Collado Abreu, who had received US Congressional recognition for his service with the Cuban Navy in WW2. For a long read on the boat and Capt. Abreu, click here.
All photos othjerwise uncredited, WVD, who visted Hemingway’s Key West house here almost a decade ago.
And if you’re interested in buying a replica of the Wheeler 38, you can. See here. More on the original Coney Island boat here.
A similar post on a marine service business (MSB) I did here not quite two months ago.
I took these photos back in early August 2019 in the village where I learned to swim . . . Sodus Point. When I asked a few people about it, I heard that it was a wreck, it was done . . . etc.
The small schooner clearly had been loved at one time.
Last week I learned the good news that the lift had loaded it onto a trailer to take it to a yard for . . .
restoration! So I finally googled it, which I’d not thought to do before, and lo and behold . . . it has pedigree! It was designed by William H. Hand, and launched in Rocky River OH in 1918. The S. S. S. means “Sea Scout Ship.” Thirty years ago, it had been trucked to Rivendell Marine, in Monument Beach MA in 1991.
All photos, WVD, and story to be continued.
Photo and discussion below can be found on FB, John Kucko Digital . . . December 21, 2020. By the way, John Kucko is a legend up in western and central NYS. Tugboat in the background is Donald Sea.
Since this post features a sailing post, let me share what I’ve been watching, based on a suggestion of a reader from South Africa.
First a trip from the Falklands to Capetown on an impressive boat this past summer.
Then I learned the name of the boat and the concept developer, Skip Novak. Here‘s more Skip Novak.
Then I learned of his latest project . . . 2020 into 2021, appropriate for these days.
Thx, Colin. This is good winter fare.
When you see lettering like that, you know it’s either old, or pretending to be. In the case of this Prudence, it’s the real deal.
All kinds of details can be found in this article, but if you want to hear it from me . . .
She dates from 1911, all wood, built at the Irving Reed Shipyard in Boothbay ME as Madeleine, and is one of less than a handful of “coastal steamers” still extant.
She survived the 1938 hurricane.
In 1921, she was sold from Maine to Bristol RI interests who named her Prudence. At one time and possibly still, she has rope steering. That I’d love to see. Once steam, she was dieselized more than a half century ago.
All photos, WVD.
Some more eye candy today . . . Portofino . . . Italian made?
Miss St. Lawrence is a beauty.
Is there an echo in the blog software maybe . . . ?
Elusive is a Hacker beauty based on a 1920s design, I believe.
Another Italian bella passes us, or maybe it’s the same one traveling at speeds not permitted in the lagoon.
Legend is a beauty. There’s a definite echo. Let me say “exquisite.”
To avoid the echo, I’ll call Rumrunner just plain elegant!
I hope you’ve had your fix of post-summer summer refined craft. All photos by Will Van Dorp.
Behold a 90-year-young boat!
Drool if you like. Click here for more info on the classic Elco cruisettes.
Click here for the specifics on KaRat!
Here’s another . . .
but
all I can say about Flox of Montreal is that she is la tres belle Flox of Montreal.
Ditto this beauty.
All photos by Will Van Dorp.
This post follows on a similar one based on St. Clair River traffic . . here.
Would the captain below qualify as a “back seat” driver?
He with his attractive runabout was taking part in this event . . .
Wood like this truly makes attractive vessels.
Zipper is a beaut,
as is Glacier Girl. Look closely at her stern . . . I should have taken more pics after she passed.
G4 below is 1993 built Riot, a 25′ Clarion boat powered by a 585 hp Mercruiser.
She’s a beauty at speed or slower . . .
Pardon Me has the claim to being the world’s largest mahogany runabout, consuming 100 gallons/hour, and she’s spawned another . . .
Pardon Me Too is Hacker built, 1956.
that even golden retrievers approve of.
I’m redundant and say . . . no boats are prettier than wooden ones, whether they’re varnished like Karen Ann below or
painted….
All photos by Will Van Dorp.
Compare the verticality of Evelyn Mae’s “windshield” in the photo below with the rake in the next photos. The photo was taken in April 1946.
The interior photo below shows the helm and the modified “raked” windshield.
Here Evelyn Mae gets some emergency work done at the floating dry dock at Matton’s in Cohoes in July 1947.
In 1959 Evelyn Mae made a trip to the Champlain Canal.
Here’s a closeup of the whole crew.
During that trip, she went up on the marine railway at Velez Marina in Port Henry.
Steve continues with his narrative: “Circe was a sister boat to Evelyn Mae. She is up on beach in Mill Basin Brooklyn after hurricane of Sept 1944. I was told by my uncle that these pics were taken after hurricane of 1946 or 1947, but apparently no hurricane hit NY in those years as per internet.”
“[This was] the last year the yacht club was at Mill Basin because the City of NY condemned the property so a builder could build lots of houses. So the vacant land in background of pic is now all houses. In 1955 the yacht club moved to Paerdegat Basin. My grandfather, Frank, was instrumental in obtaining a 99 year lease from the city as he was working at the NY Dock Company in Brooklyn and “knew” NY City Marine and Aviation people to help with obtaining the land. Midget Squadron Yacht Club is still there today (internet) as well as the Hudson River Yacht Club on the other side of Paerdegat Basin, which was there in the 1950s also.”
Many thanks to Steve for this look to the past, when summer boats” were just gorgeous wood.
More decades-old sixth born photos to come.
tugster: a waterblog 
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