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It’s time to remedy my long having short-shrifted bulk carriers. One came in Saturday morning called Angelina the Great N. I missed it because I estimated timing wrong. I hope someone got photos of the bulker with that incomparable name . . . Angelina the Great N. What’s “N,” I wonder…, but what a great Name!! Maybe you have a sense of what the “N” stands for?
But to bulkers . . . often they’re exporting scrap, and Denak Voyager is a common visitor to Claremont. Notice Rebecca Ann along the left margin of the frame?
Johanna C was in the same berth, Claremont, some time back. Also, notice that Johanna C has cranes, swung out of the way, which Denak Voyager does not.
Ditto Nordic Barents, and again notice Rebecca Ann. In this case, Nordic Barents is using its cranes and orange peel grab buckets to transfer scrap from scows alongside.
Fu Quan Shan has cranes stowed and clamshell buckets at the ready.
Spar Indus is using its crane to lighter salt, as
is Kodiak Island over by the salt pile. Because of the so-far mild winter, it’s been a while since a salt ship has discharged there.
Here’s a closer up view of Denak Voyager, seen above, its decks sans cranes, making it less versatile.
Nord Pacific is discharging salt via its cranes.
And finally, Alerce N appears to have log racks as well as cranes and buckets.
I’m starting to wonder if this is a bulkers post or a cranes post. Check out the cranes on
Curacao Pearl, a 1984 vessel previously known as Crane Arrow. I’m not sure the name of this type of crane, but I’ve seen them before on her sister vessel, Atlantic Pearl here.
All photos, WVD, who knows that even more types of cranes exist, like these automated ones on Evans Spirit. I’m not sure how they work.
Claremont . . . the place of ore and scrap. Stand by.
Let’s get oriented. See the Statue midright slightly top in the map grab below? Now follow the line representing the longer ferry route. That is the Claremont Terminal Channel, a place you don’t go to unless you have to. That ferry picks up on the south side of Port Liberté. Here‘s a great montage of images in different directions from there.
See the bare earth and all the scows stacked up along the SW side of channel?
This is the domain of Sims Metal Claremont Jersey City. Find out about the shredder pulpit, zorba, and the monetary values of things related to Claremont here. Sims is named for Albert Sims, of Sydney AU, who started the company over a century ago. To see the yard closer up, go to google earth and zoom in.
Quite often a bulk carrier is docked there, loading mostly steel and ferrous scrap in chunks created by the megashredder mentioned above along with zorba.
One fact that’s interesting to me is from 150 years ago back to time immemorial, this was likely marsh grass leading into rich oyster beds. In 1920 it was bulkheaded “by the Lehigh Valley railroad to unload ore-laden freighters from South America, the Claremont Terminal’s considerable dockside trackage was used to quickly deliver raw ore for use in the steel mills of Bethlehem Steel at Bethlehem, PA.” During WW2, it “was repurposed for the loading of US Army troopships and transports following the war and working in conjunction with the Caven Point Army Terminal provided much of the material used by US forces in the early years of the Korean War.” I’d love to know where in South America the ore came from.
On the other side of the channel is Caven Point, “operational from early 1900’s until the early 1970’s [as] a large US Army installation located on the tidal flats of Jersey City. Caven Point’s proximity to key rail networks and the ports of New York and New Jersey made it invaluable for the marshalling of troops, munitions and materials heading for front lines in Europe. During WWII, the facility was one of the major points of embarkation of US soldiers heading overseas, and was also one of the major East Coast POW processing points for captured German and Italian troops during the war. Following the cessation of hostilities, Caven Point was a key receiving point for homeward bound American servicemen, and again used its proximity to US rail lines to send tens of thousands of troops on their way home.” Sources are here and here. Near the end of this link are photos of USN vessels at Caven Point.
This photo is taken from the innermost area of Claremont looking back out. The USACE buildings at Caven Point are to the left, and Atlantic Veracruz is along the dock to the right. Rebecca Ann and Sarah Ann are managing the scrap scows. Shoreside here is not Sims but Clean Earth, Inc.
That’s Brooklyn in the distance.
All photos and reads, WVD.
2015 is the last year I saw the race; in the following years I was working and away. But 2015 Labor Day Sunday had beautiful weather.
Again, I’m not going to name each; you can read the names either on the boats or in the tags . . . and then match up. And in the photo above, the jetskis had no names, but I hope you noticed them.
I’ll make an exception for Sea Horse, the Linden-based Sea Scout boat. Click here for more info on the boat.
See Harvey back at the end of the line? It was 19 years ago that Harvey came out of retirement to assist when tragedy struck.
Both lead tugs here are nicely appointed with the colorful pennants.
Ellen certainly had the best matched “riding crew” that day.
Let’s hope the this race comes back in 2021.
All photos, WVD, whose fabulous ride was care of the NY Media Boat. If you’re looking for something to do, click on the link and book a ride.
Please, Lord, no . . . Day-Peckinpaugh has not been put out to pasture, I hope . . .
“Out to pasture or not,” as Craig said, soon someone will have to start mowing the grass around her hull. Maybe green goats can help? This photo was taken between locks E-2 and E-3 a week or two ago.
Here’s the Erie Canal between E-28A and E-28B. In normal seasons, by this time (photo taken in late May) the water would be from top of riprap to top of riprap on the other side. I hope to hike it, in search of treasure, evidence, or . . . just plain junk.
Here, looking west, is the top of the Lyons dry dock to the left and the top of E-28A to the right. For a photo of DonJon tug Rebecca Ann on that wall between the dry dock and the lock, click here. I took that photo August 2019.
This is a great place to catch walleye . . . or was. That’s lock E-27 to the left.
Right near this bridge, I got a photo of a buck swimming across the canal just ahead of the tugboat here.
So why is there no water over the spillway here? Why are the levels so low in the other photos in this post? The canal was de-watered at the end of the last season. This is done each winter so that maintenance and repair can be done in the winter. That was ongoing last winter until mid-March when the state classified canal workers as non-essential. All work stopped until very recently. So all disassembly that happened last winter is now late in being reassembled.
Until the canal gets re-watered, it’ll make for some interesting hiking.
Many thanks to Craig Williams and Bob Stopper for these photos.
And if you’ve not yet watched the Turnstile Tours talk I did back on May 26, have a watch here. It’ll take about an hour. That’ll be in lieu of blog posts the next days, weeks . . . however long this retreat takes. I’ll be back . . .
Three Rivers Junction, where the Seneca meets the Oneida, forming the Oswego, it’s got to be right around that bend.
At Three Rivers we sail into our own wake; we’ve performed the ouroboros. There’s just this sign, which we saw on leg 9 of the earlier virtual tour. No pier, no quay, no wharf, no concession stand . . . no place or reason to stop. Different groups of the Haudenosaunee may have had their names for this convergence, but I’ve not learned any. The inn that was here, off the left side, has never been replaced.
If we turn north here, we return to Oswego. If we turn east, we head for Waterford. I know a boat currently in the Pacific that was right here coming from Lake Erie/Buffalo seven years ago, and turned east here. Arriving from Lake Erie, about 200 miles back, meant getting lowered 200.’ From here to Waterford means about 160 miles, but we have to be raised about 60,’ and then lowered about 400.’ Quo vadis?
This is the end of the line. Thanks for coming on the virtual tour.
I hope you carry away a sense of the beauty and variety of this corridor, which you won’t see from the NYS Thruway or even the Empire State Trail. Part of my goal was to help virtual travelers see a past, present, and future microcosm of the tangled evolution of this continent. Conflicts and other events happened here between indigenous peoples, then between Indigenous and European, then Europeans tangled with each other, and finally schisms arose and continue to arise between different descendants of settlers. Infrastructure innovates and then becomes vestigial, to be left or removed or reimagined and repurposed. This tremendous although seasonal thoroughfare got built and evolved. As of 2020, the locks can still be made to accommodate vessels up to 300′ x 43.5′ with water draft to 9′ and air draft 15.6′. If SC-330 existed, it could still make a real trip from salt water back to Manitowoc WI. I’ve included photos of some fairly large vessels in these two virtual tours.
I end here at the crossroads (or crossrivers, more accurately) because the waterway is at a fork, a decision point, in its history. One future is the status quo or better, another future might see it become vestigial, i.e., the end of the line. Either way, some role evolves. Here‘s a description of the state’s ideas just four months ago, although given Covid-19’s appearance, that January 2020 speech seems like years ago.
Some speculate, Article XV of the NYS Constitution notwithstanding, that we face the Erie Canal’s disappearance as a thoroughfare. It DOES cost taxpayer money to operate and maintain even if transiting recreational vessels pay no fees, said to be the case through 2021. Since 2017 recreational boaters have paid no tolls; before that, fees were very low, especially calculated as a percentage of the value of some of the yachts I’ve seen transiting. Commercial vessels pay, although the tolls are small compared to those in Panama. Also, the sheer number of recreational boats has declined since a high of 163k in 2002; in 2018, 71k transited locks/lift bridges. In that link, this: “The figures account for each time a boat goes through a lock or under a lift bridge, not the actual number of boats. If a boat travels through several locks, it would be counted as locking through each time. The numbers also do not account for boaters who only travel locally and do not go through a lock. A large percentage of boating traffic falls into this category.” I’d love the be able to unpack those numbers further.
If tolls cover 5% of the budget, remaining 95% … a lot of money … needs to come from somewhere else.
This navigation season would normally have begun next week around May 15. That will not and can not happen this year, a direct result of NY-on-pause policies implemented to combat Covid-19 spread, and I support those policies. But canal maintenance projects that involved draining (de-watering) sections of the canal (remember guard gates and moveable dams?) and disassembling some locks, severing the canal, are not finished. But what if the canal never opens as a thoroughfare at all in 2020? In May 7, 2020 Buffalo News‘ Thomas J. Prohaska reports that eighteen legislators from canal communities across the state have written NYPA calling for full opening this season of the thoroughfare. It would be the first time that it has not opened since 1825. It’s undeniable that March and April 2020 for New Yorkers as well as folks in the rest of the US and the world have been unprecedented. Just earlier this week in central NY a hot spot appeared among construction and agriculture workers. But we will go back to the way things were, right? Recent special funding stemming from Re-Imagine the Canal focus, though, seems to be going to non-navigational projects, ones that look at the water rather than ones that enhance the thoroughfare. To be fair, the strategy seems to be to increase reasons to come to the water in hopes that this will increase usage of the water, the locks, and the lift bridges.
Will this be the 1918 canal in 2118 or sooner, ruins in a countryside park, places to make people reflect on their mortality?
Will it be sublime views of nature reclaiming its space? There’s intermittent water but no thoroughfare, a severed waterway, and eventually
it’s gone, reborn or devolved into a gully or a bog.
We choose. We have voices. We have fantastic 21st century writing, communication tools to speak to “deciders.”
These posts have been my individual effort during the “Covid-19 pause” to share a draft of a project I had imagined would involve augmented reality. This has been my way to stay indoors and busy during this unprecedented time. Many of you have helped over the years, have shaped my perception and understanding on this place. You know who you are and I thank you.
If you’re interested in learning more about this waterway, consider joining the Canal Society of New York, an organization that’s existed since 1956, and holds yearly conferences and field trips along the waterway. Their website has lots of information and many useful links.
If you want more detail about the canal from Eriecanalway.org‘s application to the US Dept of the Interior/National Park Service in reference to the New York State Barge Canal Historic District, click here and start in section 7.
I plead guilty to multiloquium here, so let me end with a set of my photos I’ve taken along the Erie Canal, a treasured thoroughfare as much now as in 1825.
Dancing by the river,
skimming through the system,
looping together,
paddling as far as you want,
transiting from seas to inland sea,
waiting timeless bateaux ,
max’ing the dimensions
solo shelling,
Hudson boat getting raised at lock E-17,
Canadian boat heading for the St. Lawrence,
awaiting passengers to summit the thoroughfare,
stopping for regional treats,
exploring the middle of the thoroughfare,
using minimalist power,
repositioning delivery,
mustering,
returning from a tow,
locking through at season’s start,
fishing in the shade,
frolicking on fantasy fiesta floats,
simply yachting,
squeezing through and under and above,
bringing tools to a job,
rowing a home-built,
locking Urger through for at least the 10,000th time,
raising money from Buffalo to Burlington VT,
[your tour guide] tending line . . .
the air guides standing vigil, and
the misunderstood “monsters” preparing to plumb the depths of the canal, just some of the things that happen here. This last photo is for TIB, who wanted to know.
The Oswego River is the second largest river flowing into Lake Ontario, but it feels in places like a stream. I don’t have to tell you what the largest river into Ontario is, I hope.
If you study the east bank, lots of traces of the original 1828 Oswego Canal, a verdant mudbank and even stonework like this for a former lock.
A detail to look for on the west side of the river just north of Minetto is the beer cave, where Brosemer Brewery used to cool their products in the age before refrigeration.
I’ve never been inside, but here’s a photo of the interior.
As evidence of the commercial traffic still plying the system, here’s a New Jersey-based tugboat on its way to Lake Erie.
In Oswego there’s a flight of three locks in just over a mile that will lower us 46′. The canal runs along the left side of this photo; notice the passenger vessel about to exit the top end of the lock O-7, climbing toward Minetto. Along the right side of the photo, i.e., the west side of the river, water has to tumble that same distance, a fact that allows hydropower generation and a thriving sport fishing industry, both in the river, out on Lake Ontario, and elsewhere in the locality.
In summer, Oswego enjoys its connection to the big lake. What’s a recreation area today was an industrial only area back over 150 years ago.
Industry still exists. Tourism to the right, and cement to the left.
Count the three tugboats in this photo from 2014. From near to far, Margot is pushing some oversize electrical equipment from Schenectady to Massena; the blue Cheyenne is heading to Lake Erie via the Welland Canal to retrieve new barges from a shipyard, and Wilf Seymour, the tugboat on in the distance pushing the large barge* that has delivered aluminum ingots via the Saint Lawrence River for use at the Novelis plant just north of Oswego. Interesting as evidence of the commercial value of the Canal, Margot is based in Troy NY, Cheyenne then in Hillside NJ**, and Wilf Seymour in Burlington ON.
***That barge transports the equivalent of 920 20-ton trucks, and Cheyenne is now based in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin.
A different day brings different commercial boats here; I’m not sure where the speedboat is based, but the two boats on the wall are from New Jersey and Rhode Island, and
Seaway Maid, from Clayton, on the St. Lawrence.
From right to left here, the white building is the H. Lee White Maritime Museum and the tug in the front of it it LT-5, a veteran of the Normandy invasion. Here‘s more on that tug, aka Nash. Moving to the left, it’s 85′ schooner Ontario, and Niña and Pinta of the Columbus Foundation. I wrote here about touring the Niña and Pinta on the Hudson back in 2012. Ask me about schooner Ontario and I’ll tell you a sad tale.
This Canadian sailboat enters the system here, bound for the Caribbean.
Proximity to Canada made Oswego, the US first port on the Great Lakes, an important station in the Underground Railroad.
If you’re interested in some hard-to-explain details of Oswego harbor, you’ll love browsing through all the historical photos here. Oswego became an official US port of entry in 1799, and
an active shipbuilding center. Vandalia, 91′ x 20′ and built here in 1841, was the first propeller steamship on the Great Lakes.
The brig Oneida was built here as well, less than a decade before the War of 1812.
Working backward here, this place was wrangled over for a long time, and a plaque in front of the star-shaped fort on a bluff east of the mouth of the river is …
my all-time favorite historical marker: “Built, captured & destroyed, rebuilt, destroyed . . .” Needing more historical recognition is Dr. Mary E. Walker, the only woman as yet to receive a Medal of Honor, and do read that link.
Notable in the recent era, Fort Ontario served as a refugee settlement shelter called “safe haven” in 1944-45. In summer 2019 refugees returned to Oswego to commemorate the 75th anniversary of their sojourn there.
So here were are; we’ve virtually transited one possible course on the Erie Canal, traveled about 225 miles. We were raised 405′ and then lowered back down about 175′, doing some rounding of numbers. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride, learned something about this waterway, and gotten some good photos. As to food and drink on board, sorry . . . that’s not my department.
Let’s head due west about 20 miles, into Lake Ontario. Here I’m looking south toward Sodus Point, where I learned to swim in the early 1960s. It’s so calm I could “stand-up canoe-paddle” all the way to the lighthouse. Six months later this SE corner of Ontario had 20′ to 30′ waves, according to NOAA. This area of the lake, called the Rochester Basin, is 802′ deep at its greatest depth. NOAA held meetings in summer 2019 for public comment on a proposed designation of the area as a National Marine Sanctuary.
If we continue on this course about 140 miles, we’ll be at Port Weller, ON, the entrance to another Canal, the Welland. But unless you sign me on for that trip, I’ll be leaving you here.
Until tomorrow with something different. Meanwhile, the virtual boat crew needs to refuel with virtual fuel, do virtual maintenance on virtual hardware, etc . . . and we’ll begin another transit through different portions of the canal on May first. Let’s NOT make that may day, which has a whole set of negative connotations I’d rather avoid. Seats are still available for good prices, all, of course, virtual.
Meanwhile, if you plan to do a real transit of the canal –read this note about the 2020 season opening!!–and need crew with local knowledge, get in touch. I can tie knots, throw lines, and spin yarns. And if you want to make real evaluative comments of our virtual trip–e.g., errors, omissions, additions…–I’d love to read them. Comment here or to my email.
Seeing a waterway shrunk by the land forms around it like this, I find it miraculous that we can travel it from the ocean to the Great Lakes, but some of you, I know, might be starting to feel claustrophobic.
The drone photo below is taken in Little Falls looking back east toward the the Herkimer home and beyond that the Noses. As before, you notice three modes of transport paralleling each other. In the left half of the photo, between the railroad and the state road, you’ll notice remnants of John Pierce Stone Works and the quarry above it. John Pierce had a number of quarries and a Manhattan contracting company. The road on the right leads to the NYS Thruway.
Bringing the camera down from the drone to human height and swiveling 180 degrees, we look west at the daunting lock E-17 to the left and the Mohawk River to the right heading around Moss Island. If we followed the river, we would soon be blocked by a falls. It’s called “little” because the drop is not as big as Cohoes Falls, seen earlier near the Flight in Waterford. Yet, it was big enough that the Western Inland Lock Navigation Company built a short canal around it in the 1790s.
Once inside the lock and looking back, it’s fun the watch the guillotine door descend, as the counterweight, connected by a huge chain, rise. It’s the only lock in the system with such a lower “gate.” Any guesses on the weights of gate and counterweight? Answer will be given at the end of this post.
Moss Island often has climbers, as viewed here from the boat,
and even if you’re not a technical climber, you can walk a path up the back side of the cliff to get photos of traffic eastbound entering and
departing westbound from the top of the lock.
This 1910 photo shows the cliff, the the current lock under construction. To the right, the location of the previous locks.
Little Falls was the scene of a horrendous train derailment in 1940, attributed to “speed kills.” A plaque on the north side of the river commemorates this tragedy.
The charming village on the north side of the gorge has seen the population drop from 13,000 in 1920 to fewer than 5000 today. Now, as in the past, the town is known for cheese. In fact, the large house that you might see on the ridge high above the town, the Burrell Mansion, was built by David H. Burrell, who invented many devices used by the dairy and cheese industry.
If the building below looks like a freight house, it was built as one. It’s currently one of eight that have survived of a total of 28 built for cargo transfer in the Barge Canal era. Currently, Canal Harbor and Rotary Park, west of the village, has amenities for boaters. Across the river, some modern industrial buildings belong to Feldmeier Equipment, a world leader in the manufacture of tanks for the dairy, pharmaceutical, and brewing industries. They grew out of the Burrell’s legacy, and are one of Little Falls largest employers.
Lots of “loopers” transit the Canal, but here’s one of the more unusual craft I’ve seen not so much for what it is than for what it was doing . . . , a vet doing the loop in a kayak as post-Iraq therapy. Note the yellow decal topside just behind the solar panels behind his cockpit.
Along the way to lock E-18 we follow Jacksonburg Mountain. First peoples called it Mt. Okwari, or “bear mountain.” John Jost Herkimer, father of Nicholas, settled here in 1722, with permission from the local Mohawks, who called him Okwari, because of his imposing size and strength.
Approaching lock E-18, we can clearly see the Mohawk River heading to the right, and the lock leading into another land cut. The “island” created in between is called Plantation Island Refuge Area. Clearly, it’s working well as a refuge, since last year as we sailed by, a complacent coyote watched us pass from the safety of his bank.
At the top end of E-18, you can see the green light, signalling that Lil Diamond II was free to enter. Lil Diamond II is one of several boats operated by Erie Canal Cruises, whose dock is several miles west of E-18.
The taller building at the far end of the lock is a power house, i.e., hydro-power generating station. It’s one of 26 built into the Barge Canal, only a few of which like this one are intact. Remember that the Barge Canal with its DC electrical equipment predates the grid, so each lock needed its own power generation.
Visible from the river is the 1753 limestone structure referred to as the Fort Herkimer Church. A walk around the church allows you to see the gun ports in the thick limestone walls.
Herkimer is the base of operations for Erie Canal Cruises. North of town, there’s a quarry where the public can dig for “Herkimer diamonds,” aka Little Falls diamonds.
Illion is the home of Remington, where an enterprise begun by Eliphalet Remington continues to operate, manufacturing guns, typewriters, bicycles, and sewing machines throughout its 200+ year existence.
Up ahead is lock E-19, where
train traffic finally crosses from the north to the south side of the Canal.
Surprise boat encounters can happen anywhere along the Canal. One of my bigger surprises was rising to the top of lock E-19 a few years ago and seeing Draken Harald Hårfagre waiting for the lock to clear before heading eastbound. Vikings! Eastbound in central New York! Who knew? Other unusual vessels that have transited include Hōkūleʻa, Ra, and the presidential yacht Sequoia. A short account of the latter doing the loop can be read here; I hope to post about that more in the future. And there must be a thousand more stories I don’t know, would love to hear.
A few miles south of lock E-19 is Balloon Farm, home of Carl E. and Mary Meyers. Carl was an inventor of lighter-than-air aircraft, and Mary—also known as Carlotta the Aeronaut—was an early American aviator who set many flight records before she retired in 1891.
Now the Canal is entirely in a laser-straight “land cut,” the Mohawk having too many meanders.
This photo is looking NW. Note the diagonal piece of land rising from the lower right corner. The waterway above that is the Canal, with the NYS Thruway above that. The wide body of water from the left corner is the Utica Canal Terminal, aka Inner Harbor and the Mohawk meandering off left center. Getting back to the diagonal piece of land . . . there’s a lattice structure with a red sign atop spelling out UTICA. This sign seems important because Utica is barely visible from the Canal. Where the 19th century canal transited Utica, today you find Erie Boulevard.
Just beyond the Utica sign, there’s a lock that leads into Utica Canal Terminal.
Well, the icon may soon be gone, but
it cleverly mimics this sign a few miles to the south atop the Matt Brewing Company, touting the product that made Utica famous, and the beer that was pouring from taps minutes after Prohibition ended on December 5, 1933. A miracle?
At the intersection of the Erie and the Chenango Canals, and connected by rail, Utica was well-placed for commerce. Chenango was one of almost a dozen “feeder” canals, referred to as lateral canals, connecting to the Enlarged Erie.
A century ago, 66% of Utica’s workforce were employed in the textile and clothing trade, an industry soon to head south. An interesting profile of the city’s bust and rebirth can be gleaned from this paper.
The sign below in the lobby of the revived Hotel Utica, opened in 1912, hints at the prestige the city once had.
Stanley Theater is another icon of Utica’s past. Not much farther south of Genesee Street is the Munson-Williams-Proctor Arts Institute, with an impressive collection, founded by three generations of the family of Alfred H. Munson.
Before we miss the boat heading west, a few seconds for two more quick details about Utica. First, you must try Utica greens, one of many food specialties along the Canal. And second, John Butterfield, a former mayor of the city, is credited with founding both American Express and Wells Fargo.
A few miles west of Aqua Vino on the Canal, we get to lock E-20, here looking east toward the lock off the stern of this 1920s ice breaking tug.
And here’s the info on lock E-17, taken from a plaque on the lock itself.
Believe it or not, I’m way inland and without a camera, and a preference for novelty prompts a different almost-year-end post together. Rules I made for myself follow: go to my archives and select the first photo of something water-related each month of 2019. So if the first photo in my archives for each month is a person or an inland structure, I don’t use it; instead, I go forward in that month to the first boat or water photo.
For January, it was Susquehanna in a very familiar IMTT on the Bayonne side of the KVK. She’s currently westbound along the Keys.
February was La Perla, an oyster barge on Peconic Bay.
March was Nathan G on the very southern tip of Manhattan, across from the Colgate clock. She’s currently working in the sixth boro.
Jonathan C was assisting a box ship out in the wee hours near the start of April. Right now, she’s in the sixth boro, doing or waiting to do a similar escort.
May began with a NYC oyster boat headed north through the Narrows.
Early June it was Tavropos, in the Stapleton anchorage. The crude oil tanker is currently off the Tabasco coast of Mexico. The tanker appeared here previously as Moonlight Venture.
July began with Fishing Creek headed out of the Narrows. She’s currently near Philly.
In August it was Grande Mariner approaching lock E14. She’s docked in Narragansett Bay.
In September, actually on September 1, it was Kaye E. Barker southbound across Lake St. Clair with the landmark Renaissance Center ahead. She’s currently upbound on Lake Huron, possibly getting another load of ore for the season.
October began with me meeting Mrs. Chips bound for the Narrows and point south and ultimately Florida, where she currently is.
November it was Denak Voyager taking on scrap. That’s the Newark Bay Bridge beyond the ship, and Rebecca Ann lost to the left margin. Rebecca Ann is currently in the sixth boro, and Denak Voyager has exited the Straits of Gibraltar, heading back to the sixth boro.
And finally, December, it’s a mystery boat for now and an unidentified location. Guess if you like . . . I hope to get back to this photo in 2020.
Maybe tomorrow . . . last day of the year . . . I’ll do the last photo of each month following the same rules.
All photos by Will Van Dorp.
Melville explains Ishmael’s signing onto the whaling ship as related to that damp, drizzly November in [Ishmael’s] soul, but this series shows that a windy, dark October can trigger running away too. I’m thrilled that today’s forecast calls for sunshine, and some reason for optimism. Here are previous weather posts.
A few days ago we arrived in the sixth boro under clouds swept along by winds.
Someone who’s not been along Manhattan for a few decades would not recognize the city.
Rebecca Ann assists a scrap scow alongside Nordic Barents, a bulker I saw on the Saint Lawrence discharging ore less than month ago.
Joyce D. is likely over to assist James.
DAT’s Dong-A Metis and Humen Bridge transfer cargoes in Bayonne. DA
T (Dong-A-Tanker) seems an odd name for a PCTC RORO.
A container ship, rusty from the oceans, passes the salt pile over along Richmond Terrace.
RTC 145 moves out of the Kills
with all the horsepower supplied by Christian.
All photos last week by Will Van Dorp, who’s now heading out to enjoy the sunshine.
xx
As a reminder, CB here expands to Chicago-bound, our journey.
Dean Marine and Excavating are continuing work on the breakwaters in Oswego.
Madison R stands by as the barge is loaded with boulders brought in by train.
The ubiquitous Rebecca Ann waits along the wall in preparation to head for the Welland Canal.
As we follow Rebecca Ann, we pass Madison high and dry and waiting for deployment.
H. Lee White’s Eleanor D stands as a reminder of the commercial fishing that once happened here.
Over in Rochester, a party boat fishing vessel enters the Genesee River.
The fast ferry fiasco that ran two seasons or so 15 years ago has resulted in this Australia-built Lake Ontario boat now the object of derision in . . . . ready for it . . . Venezuela!!
During the first half of the 20th century, Rochester was a coal-export port using these two boats.
Today tug Seaway Patricia operates here to provide bulkhead reinforcement for the high-water-level-afflicted shorelines.
All photos by Will Van Dorp, and taken in Oswego and Rochester.
tugster: a waterblog 
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