You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘harlem river’ tag.

I’m guessing Eric R Thornton is off in search of some scrap waiting in

the Bronx maybe?

It’s been a long while since I’ve seen Penn No. 6, and here she and Normandy are made up to Penn No. 121.  See those four shore cranes against the sky?  Here’s a post I did on them almost a decade ago.


Here’s B. No. 250 eastbound for the Sound, with

Evening Star in the notch.

Some people would be pleased with this juxtaposition: MTA’s Highbridge Yard, with Harbor II, MetroNorth, and the 44th Precinct Police Station!

Barbara Ann holds station at the University Heights Bridge, with the unmistakeable Hall of Fame for Great Americans dome over the treeline.  That’s a place I’ve yet to visit, one of many places in the five boros.

Ditto . . . Ireland on the north side of that bridge.


And to conclude for another day . . . it’s Penn No. 91 with

Skipjack in the notch.

Oops!  All photos by Will Van Dorp . . . from aboard Manhattan II.

I’m culling fotos these days, trashing lots.  I’m sharing these never-used ones that caught my attention. .

And more surprises . . . this is a major wake raking the bank of the Harlem River!

This foto hangs at the Ear Inn.  I liked the image until I noticed that this hair product advertisement uses a wrecked ship and locals looting supplies from said wreck.  Now imagine a business did this today . . . .

A vessel aims to maintain equilibrium and productivity despite wind, cold, and isolation;  arms spread here do what mine attempt while crossing a narrow gangplank.  Life is full of such risk-takings.

I’ve used some of these White, GA,  fotos before, but part of what attracts me to the car is the art of Jacek Yerka.

This foto accompanies a story in Yerka’s book with Harlan Ellison called Mind Fields, with over two dozen such images accompanied by short fiction.

Here’s another, marking the beginning of the calendar phase called Aquarius, what this post is really about.

Happy birthday, my fellow-Aquarians.

Oh no . . there on the bottom. It’s the #4215 E train car, where we met, our eyes making contact that evening after the tugboat race five years ago. You asked about my hat and . . . finally when I asked your phone number, you said that last four digits were the same as the ones in the car . . .

After that it was always “our car,” and if we spotted it again, our tingling was reason for immediate celebration . . . So why is #4215 on a barge in the Harlem River? Our anniversary comes up soon . . . in a little over a week . . .

Hmmm . . . why has the Cat loaded onto this barge as well? D’you suppose it’s too late to offer the MTA $$ to buy #4215 and set it up as a romantic diner in the mountains specializing in romantic snacking and wedding receptions? I’m sure that car possessed unique energy that predisposed riders to love. One ride with a platonic friend or even a stranger and . . . LOVE!

Baby . . . should we follow the barge to see where it goes so that whenever we need a love buzz, we can recharge? After all, how far could our car be going? We could visit as we do my old ship . . .

(Maybe overheard while sitting on a bench along the Harlem River.)

Photos, WVD.

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May 2023