The Hudson River's last day passenger steamboat was "Bay Belle". Built in 1910 the "Bay Belle" operated under different names and for different companies for decades. During her time on the Hudson River "Bay Belle" carried charters from New York City to day resorts at Bear Mountain, Rye, and from Yonkers to Rockaway Beaches.. Author Richard V. Elliott writes of "Bay Belle" in his manuscript "The Boats of Summer" : "Never intended to be biggest, fastest, or most luxurious, this hard working, medium-sized steamer was a survivor that transported and entertained millions." 

Passenger steamboats sold souvenirs onboard such as the pennant, pin and postcard shown here. 

Tickets were also kept as memorabilia of "Bay Belle" summer excursions.

Tomorrow is the 139th birthday of the iconic Brooklyn Bridge, which was opened to the public on May 24, 1889. At the time, it was the longest suspension bridge in the world, the first permanent crossing between Brooklyn and Manhattan, and today is the oldest bridge to Manhattan still standing. 

The engineering marvel was the work of John Roebling, his son Washington Roebling, and eventually was completed by Washington's wife Emily Roebling, after Washington grew too ill to continue. For the compelling story of the long, complicated, and dangerous work to complete the bridge, check out this short documentary film below:

Did you know? John Roebling's pioneering work in cabled suspension bridges was honed through his work on the Delaware & Hudson Canal! 

To learn more about the Roebling family and their contributions to American industrial history, visit the Roebling Museum in Roebling, NJ. 

For more about Roebling's work on the D&H Canal, check out this talk D&H Canal Historian Bill Merchant gave for the Roebling Museum on John Roebling and the Delaware aqueducts. 

On Saturday, May 19, 1928, in the early afternoon of a beautiful spring day, a collision occurred off Rondout Lighthouse between the ferryboat “Transport” and the steamer “Benjamin B. Odell” of the Central Hudson Line.
           
At the time, I was deckhand on the steamer “Albany” of the Hudson River Day Line, helping to get her ready for the new season after her winter lay up at the Sunflower Dock at Sleightsburgh. On Saturdays, we knocked off work at 11:30 a.m. As I rowed up the creek in my rowboat to go home, the big “Odell” was still at her dock at the foot of Hasbrouck Avenue at Rondout.
           
At 12:25 p.m. the “Odell” blew the customary three long melodious blasts on her big whistle, high on her stack, as the signal she was ready to depart.
           
At home, eating lunch, I heard her blow one short blast promptly at 12:30 p.m. as the signal to cast off her stern line.

From the Porch
Following a habit of mine from a young boy, I went out on our front porch to watch her glide down the creek at a very slow pace past the Cornell shops, Donovan’s and Feeney’s boat yards, and the freshly painter [sic] “Albany.”  The “Odell” looked to me like a great white bird slowly passing down the creek. At the time, I thought how in less than two weeks we would probably pass her on the “Albany” on the lower Hudson on Decoration Day, both steamers loaded with happy excursionists on the first big holiday of the new season.
           
As the “Odell” passed Gill’s dock at Ponckhockie, I went back in the house to finish lunch. A few minutes later I heard the “Odell” blow one blast on her whistle, which was answered by the “Transport” on her way over to Rhinecliff, indicating a port to port passing. Hearing steam whistles so often in the long ago day along Rondout Creek was something one took for granted, assuming they would be heard forever. Then I heard the danger signal on the whistle of the “Transport” followed by three short blasts from the “Odell’s” whistle, indicating her engine was going full speed astern. Shortly thereafter, I could hear the “Transport” blowing the five whistle signal of the Cornell Steamboat Company of 2 short, 2 short, 1 short, meaning we need help immediately.
           
I ran down to my rowboat tied up at the old Baisden shipyard, and looked down the creek. I could see the “Transport” limping in the creek very slowly, her bow down in the water, and her whistle blowing continuously for help. I also noticed several automobiles on her deck.
           
Looking over the old D. & H. canal boats that were deteriorating on the Sleightsburgh flats, I could see the top of the “Odell” stopped out in the river. After a few minutes, she slowly got underway and proceeded on down the river, her big black stack belching smoke, so I figured she was not hurt. 
​

Decision to Beach
           
As the “Transport” approached the Cornell coal pocket, her captain, Rol Saulpaugh, decided to beach her on the Sleightsburgh shore. Nelson Sleight, a member of her crew, asked me to run a line over to the dock a the shipyard in the event she started to slide off the bank.
           
I took the line and ran it from where the “Transport” grounded to the dock. In the meantime, the Cornell tugboat “Rob” came down the creek, from where she had been lying at the rear of the Cornell office at the foot of Broadway, and pushed the ferry a little higher on the bank.
           
After taking the line ashore, I went back and asked if there was anything else I could do. Captain Saulpaugh asked me if I would row up to the ferry slip and get Joseph Butler, the ferry superintendent, and bring him over to the “Transport,” which I did. On the way over, Butler told me he had already called the Poughkeepsie and Highland Ferry Company to see if he could get one of its ferries to run in the “Transport’s” place. The afternoon about 5 p.m., the Poughkeepsie ferryboat “Brinckerhoff” arrived in the creek and began running on the Rhinecliff route.
           
When we got back to the “Transport,” mattresses and blankets had been stuffed in the hole the “Odell” had slicked in the over-hanging guard and part of the hull. When she was patched, the “Transport,” with the “Rob’s” help, backed off the mud and entered the Roundout slip stern first - and the cars on deck were backed off. Then, the “Rob” assisted the ferry to make her way up to the C. Hiltebrandt shipyard at Connelley for repairs. There she was placed in drydock, the damage repaired, and in a week she was back in service on her old run.

A Flood Tide
           
The cause of the mishap at the mouth of the creek was a combination of a strong flood tide, a south wind and a large tow. Out in the river, the big tugboat “Osceola” of the Cornell Steamboat Company was headed down river with a large tow.
           
She had just come down the East Kingston channel and at that moment was directly off the Rondout Lighthouse. When there is a strong flood tide, there is a very strong eddy at the mouth of the creek. The tide,  helped by a south wind, sets up strong and when it hits the south dike, it forms a half moon about 75-100 feet out from the south dike and then starts to set down.
           
As the “Odell” was leaving the creek and entering the river, the “Transport” was passing ahead of the tow, around the bow of the “Osceola.” The “Transport” probably hit the eddy caused by the flood tide. In any event, she didn’t answer her right rudder and took a dive right into the path of the “Odell.”  The “Odell” couldn’t stop in time and cut into the forward end of the ferry about 6 or 8 feet. No one was hurt and there was no confusion on either boat. The “transport” bore the brunt of the bout; the only damage to the “Odell” being some scratched paint on her bow.
           
I heard later from the Dan McDonald, pilot on the “Osceola,” that there would be the lawsuit as a result of the collision - and he had been served with a subpoena to appear as a witness. He never had to appear, however, as Captain Greenwood of the “Odell” later told me the case was settled out of court.

The next year the Central Hudson Line, because of the inroads made by the automobile, went out of business. The “Benjamin B. Odell”, however, continued to run on the river for another company until February 1937 when she was destroyed by fire in winter lay up at Marlboro. The “Transport” continued running on the Rhinecliff ferry route until September 1938 when she was withdrawn from service. She was later cut down and made into a stake boat for the Cornell Steamship Company for use in New York harbor. 
​

The Schooner Wyoming was one of the largest wooden sailing vessels ever constructed. Built in Bath, Maine in 1909 as a collier ship, she was designed as a state-of-the-art sail freighter. Using a donkey generator and automated systems and winches for raising and lowering sails, and a telephone system for onboard communication, she was 450 feet long, but crewed by just 14 men.

Like many of the 20th century sail freight vessels, the Wyoming was a support ship for steamboats. Colliers carried coal to coaling stations around the world, allowing steamships to refuel and travel long distances. Because sailing vessels didn't use any of the coal they carried, they were ideal for transporting fuel efficiently around the world. But in order to stay competitive with steam vessels, sailing vessels had to be efficient in crew costs as well, which is why the Wyoming had such a small crew.

Sadly, this enormous sail freighter met with a tragic fate. To learn more about her disappearance in 1924, check out the short documentary film below.​

If you'd like to learn more about the Wyoming, visit the Maine Maritime Museum, which includes the site of the Percy & Small Shipyard, and a memorial to the Wyoming. 

If you'd like to learn more about sail freight, be sure to visit our upcoming exhibit, "A New Age of Sail: The History and Future of Sail Freight on the Hudson River," opening Sunday, May 29, 2022. 

If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please ​make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!

Editor's Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article written by George W. Murdock, for the Kingston (NY) Daily Freeman newspaper in the 1930s. Murdock, a veteran marine engineer, wrote a regular column. Articles transcribed by HRMM volunteer Adam Kaplan. 

The First Steamboat "North America"
The first “North America” made her appearance on the Hudson river in the days when steamboats were scarce and not very practical, and after a little more than 10 years of service, she encountered the heavy ice- the nemesis of many steamboats- and had her career abruptly ended on the bottom of the river.

The wooden hull of the “North America” was built by William Capes at New York in 1827, and her engine was constructed by John Stevens at Hoboken, N.J. Her hull was 218 feet long, her beam measured 30 feet across, and her hold was only eight feet deep. She had two vertical beam engines with cylinders having a diameter of four inches with a nine foot stroke.

Robert L. Stevens was the owner of the “North America,” and she was built for service between New York and Albany at a time when river transportation was entering upon an era of prosperity which brought forth many of the now famous steamboats and recorded in history glorious tales of the Hudson river.

The “North America” had a pair of beam engines and, as she was a rather light vessel, her owner had a hog frame on a truss placed in her to stiffen the hull. This was a departure from the methods of steamboat construction of that period and as a result the water lines of the “North America” were rather “hard” and she had what was termed a “spoon bow.”

These engines of the “North America” made 24 revolutions per minute and her history indicates that the vessel was not noted for speed- her best time recorded from New York to Albany being 10 hours and 30 minutes.

When loaded with freight the “North America” drew six feet of water and burned from 25 to 30 cords of wood on the 155 mile trip between New York and Albany.

​Robert L. Stevens ran the “North America” for several years and finally sold her to Isaac Newton and others who ran her in line with the “DeWitt Clinton.” In the fall of 1839, while on one of her regular trips from New York to Albany, the “North America” ran afoul of a field of heavy ice a short distance below Albany. She was unable to cope with the pressure of the ice which eventually cut through her planking, causing her to sink into the waters of the Hudson river and thus brought her career to an abrupt end.

The second steamboat "North America"
The 230 foot “North America” appeared in 1839, built by Devine Burtis at Brooklyn. Her vertical beam engine had a 48 inch cylinder and 11 foot stroke and she had two Milliken Patent boilers.

The new steamboat was built for Isaac Newton and other parties for the People’s Line of Albany, and was the second boat called the “North America” which was built for this line plying between Albany and New York.

The “North America” was in service only a short time when she had a new and larger consort, the “South America.” Together, these vessels brought fame to the Hudson river as they plied between the two cities, setting a fine style for the construction of steamboats. They eclipsed all their predecessors both in speed and style, and the “North America” was the first steamboat to use blowers for artificial blast, in the furnaces of boilers, by an independent engine.
 
The “North America” ran on the Albany route until the year 1850 or 1851, when she was retired from the People’s Line and then used as a consort to the “South America” and the “Hero” on the New York-Hudson night line. She was finally purchased by Captain Jacob H. Tremper, of the Rondout firm of Romer & Tremper night line, and was placed in service between Rondout and New York in line with the steamboat “Manhattan” until the fall of 1860, when she was replaced by the new “James W. Baldwin.”

​The vessel was then sold to J. W. Hancox and D.D. Chamberlain, and was chartered out in 1862 and 1863 at $325 and $400 per day. Finally, on July 9, 1863, she was sold to the federal government for $55,000. The “North America” was sunk at Algiers, Louisiana, opposite New Orleans, on October 8, 1863- and later was raised and taken to New Orleans, where she was broken up.

​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

As we approach the opening of our new exhibit, "A New Age of Sail: The History and Future of Sail Freight on the Hudson River," we thought we'd introduce this classic folk song about a collier named Nightingale by Stan Rogers. In it, a brave captain sacrifices himself to save his crew.

Rogers was a Canadian folk singer who wrote "The Flowers of Bermuda" in 1978, apparently based on a true story. He wrote of the song, "I took my first trip to Bermuda in May, 1978 and loved it. While I was there, I discovered that the whole area around Bermuda is a kind of ship graveyard. I found a map showing the location of most of the known wrecks and discovered that a coal carrier called the Nightingale sank off the North Rock in the early 1880s. The rest of the details are pure invention, except for the fact that Bermuda is lovely."

There was in fact a collier named Nightingale, although she foundered in the North Atlantic in the 1890s, not Bermuda in the 1880s. However, North Rock Reef in Bermuda was home to several shipwrecks, and you can still dive some today. Stephen Winick of Sing Out! magazine looked further into the history of Rogers' song and ship, and may have found the real vessel that inspired the song. 

Colliers were important cargo sailing vessels throughout the 19th and 20th centuries as they were able to ship coal without using any of it to fuel themselves. Bermuda was an important coaling station for the British Royal Navy's steamships and so the semi-fictional Nightingale would have been bringing coal from England or the United States to resupply the coaling station at Bermuda. Early steamships could not carry enough coal to go long distances without refueling, so stations like Bermuda were crucial to Naval operations. 

The Flowers Of Bermuda
by Stan Rogers

He was the captain of the Nightingale
Twenty-One days from clyde in coal.
He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale,
When he died on the North Rock Shoal.
​
Just five short hours from Bermuda, in a fine October gale,
There came a cry "O there be breakers dead ahead!"
From the Collier Nightingale.
No sooner had the captain brought her round,
Came a rending crash below.
Hard on her beam ends groaning went the Nightingale,
And overside her mainmast goes.

He was the captain of the Nightingale
Twenty-One days from clyde in coal.
He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale,
When he died on the North Rock Shoal.

"O Captain are we all for drowning?"
Came the cry from all the crew. "The boats be smashed,
How are we all then to be saved?
They are stove in through and through."
Oh, are ye brave and hearty collier men?
Or are ye blind and cannot see?
The captain's gig still lies before ye whole and sound.
It shall carry all O' we.

He was the captain of the Nightingale
Twenty-One days from clyde in coal.
He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale,
When he died on the North Rock Shoal.

But when the crew was all assembled,
And the gig prepared for sea,
Twas seen there were but eighteen places to be manned,
Nineteen mortal souls were we.
But cries the captain "now do ye not delay,
Nor do ye spare a thought for me,
My duty is to save ye all now if I can,
See ye return quick as can be."

He was the captain of the Nightingale
Twenty-One days from clyde in coal.
He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale,
When he died on the North Rock Shoal.

Oh there be flowers in Bermuda. Beauty lies on every hand.
And there be laughter, ease, and drink for every man,
But there is no joy for me.
For when we reached the wretched Nightingale,
What an awful sight was plain,
The captain drowned, lay tangled in the mizzen chain,
Smiling bravely beneath the sea.

He was the captain of the Nightingale
Twenty-One days from clyde in coal.
He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale,
When he died on the North Rock Shoal.