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Here are posts about Wavertree’s trip to the dry dock and before. And below are two photos I hadn’t used in those posts.
In the past 10 weeks, prep for the actual dry docking has resulted in loss of at least a foot and a half of draft. Mussels once submerged have lost their habitat.
Let’s descend into through the forward cargo hatch to see where a cavernous hold is getting even more cavernous.
Note the ladder beyond the foremast, as seen from standing to starboard of the keelson.
Looking to the stern from the ‘tween decks. As Mike Weiss said, “a cathedral of cargo.”
Looking astern from atop a makeshift block of ballast on the port side of vessel. That’s the main cargo hatch prominent in the center of the photo. My response to Mike’s quote is “an ark of angled wrought iron.”
This is how the skeleton of a 130-year-old vessel looks.
Looking toward the rudder post from the ‘tween decks.
Returned to the main deck looking forward at the cargo hatches.
Removal of extraneous and/or non-original weight has included belgian block and large concrete block ballast. This water tank may be original
And here are the credits.
Many thanks to Mike Weiss and South Street Seaport Museum for the tour; click on that link for membership info. August promises to be more prep work for dry docking.
All photos by Will Van Dorp.
Click here for CSM article about the 1983 initial and partial restoration of Wavertree.
Here are previous posts in this series.
Anyone know the whences and whose . . . inquiring minds wish to know.
Thanks to Mike for sharing these photos.
Somewhat related . . . does anyone you know refer to the East River or any portion of it as the Sound River?
I’m not entirely sure where the land story here starts and stops, but three and a half years ago, I posted this when the tower went up because it intruded into a lot of photos I took. I took these next two photos in January 2012, right after erection but six months before it went on line.
And here are two I took last month.
Here’s the news: the turbine is fritzed and needs repair or replacement after just three years in spite of an expected life span of 20 years! Here’s a full range of speculation. Of the hundreds of thousands of wind turbines operating in the world, why does this one fritz out?
All photos by Will Van Dorp, with thanks to WS for passing this story along.
Here the magical dory is tied to Philip T. Feeney, which now languishes in a tug purgatory. The shore of lower Manhattan also looked quite different then. That low-slung but stately building on the other side of the river is the Custom House aka Museum of the American Indian.
Reef points and baggy wrinkle . . . this is a classy sailing dory not timid
when navigating past a tanker of yore.
All photos by Pamela Hepburn of Pegasus Preservation Project.
I went quite close to the source of the Hudson four years ago . . . here. But earlier this summer I stopped in Glens Falls, just because I wanted to see the falls.
Here’s more . . .
Back to the Route 9 bridge, here’s the old central office, and click here for an interesting Finch Paper history.
But here’s the real nugget . . . the really interesting piece of history, and it’s UNDER the bridge. Charles Reed Bishop, local boy orphaned by age 4, who tagged along with a friend with connections–William Little Lee. At age 24, the two of them headed for San Francisco, and since this was 1846, that meant sailing around Cape Horn and stopping in Hawaii along the way. Bishop stayed, became a citizen of the Kingdom of Hawaii, and the rest of the story is here.
How’s that for an unlikely trajectory for a Hudson river boy AND information found under a bridge? And about 50 miles south of here, in Troy, along the river’s edge is another plaque celebrating another Hudson river boy with an unlikely trajectory into the Pacific.
Photos by Will Van Dorp.
This is partly inspired by the first 18 posts of this series and partly by the Apple ad campaign called “shot on iPhone 6.” I have an older iPhone, but if you ever get a message from me, you’ll see a note “sent by talking drum” instead of the default advertisement. OK, I’m contrarian. But all the shots in this post have been taken by my talking drum, and therefore of a different quality.
I need to carry a mini tripod for the talking drum (TD) camera . . . in lower light, although
this one is crisp.
I certainly need a tripod for a “pano” shot.
Sometimes you get a pano via composition.
A TD cam IS handy when you find yourself facing a once-in-a-lifetime perspective.
This bus has fascinated me for the past two weeks, so today, having carved out time to stop, I chatted with the owner . . . my age, who had the bus painted by graffiti artists in honor of his late son. When the weather chills, he will cast off his lines and head south.
All these reps by Will Van Dorp.
Wow! When I typed “wall” into the search window, I came up with this somewhat silly post from 2007! But one of the photos shows Barents Sea when I first saw her in the sixth boro.
What I was thinking with the word “wall” today is that the hull of a vessel walls out any info about the crew, the cargo, the human climate on board! By looking at this image of a section of the hull, you can tell what it carries, where it came from, its age . . I could go on. Actually, all those patches notwithstanding, the vessel is four years old. Anyhow, my point is
two thirds of the planet is inhabited by “worlds” walled off like this and more often moving throughout the latitudes and longitudes and climate zones and political regions and hot spots . . . .
and if you missed Ian Urbina’s articles recently in the NYTimes called “The Outlaw Ocean,” check them out and the comments here. I’m still stuffed with the food for thought presented there.
Photo by Will Van Dorp.
Here was the first in the series. That one ended on a “back-to-work” note.
This one . . . probably will not have a happy ending, unless of course you’re a fish looking for structure or a diver wanting to explore. Here’s a view of the vessel pre-sixth boro days. And here’s the last time I saw her run. Call Barents Sea high . . . and potentially wetter and wetter.
Have a look while you can.
When she gets reefed, I’d love photos.
Thanks to Birk, here’s her history.
Click here for a guide to fishing and diving on New Jersey reefs.
All photos by Will Van Dorp.