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 Rondout chain ferry "Riverside" or "Skillypot". Sleightsburg in background. Hudson River Maritime Museum. As a boy I grew up in Port Ewen, a village south of Kingston. I remember the "Skillypot" as an almost square, rectangular-shaped, steam-driven chain ferry that ran on the Rondout Creek between Rondout (part of Kingston) and the hamlet of Sleightsburg. The ferry pulled herself back and forth across the creek on a chain which rolled up on a drum in her hold. Her formal name was "Riverside" but no one ever called her that. She was universally called the "Skillypot" (a Dutch derivative meaning "turtle") and a lot of other names as well, the kindest of which was "Otherside" by those who had just missed connections. The Skillypot was a relic of the foot passenger and horse and wagon era. She was placed in service in 1870 and ran without interruption, except for periodic maintenance and repairs, until 1922 when the present suspension bridge carrying Route 9-W over the Rondout Creek was opened to traffic. From the time automobiles came into general use until the Skillypot stopped running in Oct., 1922, she was a source of anger and frustration to those vacationing motorists who travelled northward on Route 9-W on holiday weekends and came to a halt somewhere south of the Rondout Creek in a growing line of autos waiting to cross on the ferry. Because the Skillypot could only carry about four cars, the backup was usually considerable and meant a long wait for most of those in line. There was a small iron bridge across the Rondout, upstream from Kingston, at a place called Eddyville. But few, if any, of the waiting drivers knew of this crossing. The situation was made to order for any enterprising boys of the area who worked the waiting line of autos offering to show their drivers a detour across the creek for a fee, usually a quarter or half-dollar. The procedure, when hired, was to ride the running board of the car and direct the drive "around the mountain" to Eddyville, over the bridge and back to the ferry slip in Rondout. The trip back to the ferry took the unsuspecting motorist a bit out of the way but it got the boy guide back to the ferry – which he then boarded, crossed to Sleightsburg for the two-cent passenger fare and started the procedure all over again. The Skillypot was unique and served a real purpose for a long time. But she didn't fit into the 20th century and when she finally stopped running I doubt if there were any who mourned her passing.  Hudson River Maritime Museum collection. AuthorWilliam E. Tinney's article was published in the Albany (NY) Times-Union on July 20, 1975 as part of the "I remember .." series. "Times-Union Editor's Note: Ten dollars will be paid for each I Remember published of the 1920s through 1950s." 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!
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 "Brinckerhoff" on September 15, 1940. Tracey I. Brooks Collection, Hudson River Maritime Museum Editor's note: The following is from the Kingston (NY) Daily Freeman, July 31, 1905, Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. The Nautical Gazette says: One of the oldest pilots actively engaged in steamboating today is Captain James P. Ackley, who daily steers the Hudson River ferryboat "Brinkerhoff" on her trips between Poughkeepsie and Highland. Captain Ackley is 77 years of age, and has been in the boating business for sixty-five years. His first experience was on the sloop "Judge Swift", owned by the late Captain William Roberts. Following this he was pilot on some of the famous early-time Hudson river sloops, such as the "Westchester," "Deep River", "Alfred Richards" and others. Captain Ackley was first mate on the "Matthew Vassar" when that vessel made trips to Virginia for wood which was burned on the Hudson River rail-road instead of coal. The "Matthew Vassar" also made one trip to Bermuda during the Mexican war with a cargo of merchandise. This was Captain Ackley's last trip on her. Upon her return the gold excitement was at its height in California and the sloop was sold to a stock company of Poughkeepsians, who loaded her with a cargo of merchandise for the gold mines. This enterprise proved a failure financially. Captain Ackley was mate on the well known schooner "Oliver H. Booth". He was on her in Hampton Roads when Virginia seceded. When the crew heard the news all hands the crew heard the news all hands hastened to get out of their dangerous predicament. They took French leave, setting sail at midnight and finally got back to Poughkeepsie after several exciting adventures. The last interesting sloop of which Captain Ackley was master was the old "Surprise", owned by M, Vassar & Company. Her last cargo was in part the old cannon and cannon balls that now adorn the grounds around the soldiers' fountain, Poughkeepsie. The first steamboat Captain Ackley piloted was the "Fairfield", one of the original excursion boats to Coney Island, which made two trips a day from New York. It was the only boat running on this route at that time and had ample accommodations for all traffic. Just after the breaking out of the civil war Captain Ackley was pilot on the steamboat "H. S. Allison", which carried soldiers from Hart's Island to New York. From this boat Captain Ackley went with the Hudson river towing lines. They paid better wages than were offered on passenger boats. For nineteen years he was pilot on the largest towboats in the world, including the "Vanderbilt" and "Connecticut". He made a record in 1887 which has never been surpassed, that of towing 117 loaded boats in one tow from Albany to New York. 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!
 Saugerties Evening Line "Ulster". Donald C. Ringwald Collection, Hudson River Maritime Museum Editor’s Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article featuring stories by Captain William O. Benson (1911-1986). Beginning in 1971, Benson, a retired tugboat captain, reminisced about his 40 years on the Hudson River in a regular column for the Kingston (NY) Freeman’s Sunday Tempo magazine. Captain Benson's articles were compiled and transcribed by HRMM Contributing Scholar Carl Mayer. This article was originally published July 17, 1977. In the long ago days of Hudson River steamboating, almost every city and larger village along the river had its own steamboat line to New York. Each line would have at least two boats to maintain daily service —each boat going down one day and back the next. The steamers of the lines north of Newburgh were known as night boats, since they usually departed in the late afternoon or early evening and arrived at their destination in the early morning. All would carry freight on their main decks, and on the deck above were staterooms which offered sleeping accommodations for passengers. Generally, travelling on the night boats was an extremely pleasant way to make a journey to or from New York. The river was always attractive in the evening and almost always one could count on a good night's sleep. The exceptions were when the steamer ran into fog and the pilot had to blow the boat's whistle, or if one had a stateroom right next to the paddle wheels. Saugerties was one of those towns that had its own steamboat service. The company's name was the Saugerties and New York Steamboat Company and it was operated by mostly hometown men. During its last 20 years or so of service it was promoted (and known) to the travelling public as the Saugerties Evening Line. Shortly after World War I, the outfit had two small, smart sidewheelers named Ulster and Ida. On one particular trip the Ulster left Pier 43, North river, in New York at her regular time. She had freight for all her landings, which in those days were at Hyde Park, Rhinecliff, Barrytown, Ulster Landing and Tivoli. She ended her journey at Saugerties. Most of her staterooms were also occupied. She made very good time until she reached Crum Elbow, just south of Hyde Park, when it started to get foggy. At the time, she was overtaking the Catskill Line freighter Storm King. Of course, the fog signals had to be sounded on both steamers. A Cornell tow was also on its way down the river, blowing the one-long-and-two-short whistle signal indicating they had a tow underway. The helper tug back on the tow, as a matter of courtesy, was also blowing its whistle, since it was back a good 500 feet from the towing tug. What a racket of steam whistles that must have been in those early morning hours off Hyde Park! I suppose Franklin D. Roosevelt, if he was at home, the Vanderbilts and the great naturalist John Burroughs were awakened by all those steamboat whistles. Then, on top of all that, the big night boats out of Albany and Troy came along, sounding their whistles in the fog. The passengers on the Ulster sure had a tough time trying to sleep. Some were up complaining about all the whistling. Others just stayed in their staterooms and put up with it. Then, a short while later after things got reasonably quiet again, came the landing at Rhinecliff with the organized confusion of unloading freight. There would be the sound of the hand freight trucks going on and off the gangplank, and the mate sounding off to the freight handlers to get the freight off so they could get out on time. After leaving Rhinecliff, all was serene for a few moments except for the periodic blowing of the fog signal. However, off Astor's tunnel they met a canal tow which was crossways in the channel and this caused more whistle blowing. After the tow was cleared came the landing at Barrytown with the noise of the freight trucks and an argument between two freight handlers, which was brought to a stop by the authoritarian voice of the mate. The Ulster then headed across the river to Ulster Landing. As was the custom on the night boats, a hallman would knock on the door of the stateroom of a passenger getting off at a particular landing about 10 minutes before docking, and announce the landing. Sometimes, a passenger would have to listen pretty closely, for some of the hallmen were like some of the conductors on the old West Shore Railroad — they had an odd way of pronouncing the names of the stations or landings. In any event, the hallman knocked on the door of the stateroom of an Ulster Landing passenger and called out, "Ulster Landing, Ulster Landing." A lady passenger bound for Saugerties, in a stateroom or two away, also heard the knocking and the announcement "Ulster Landing." After all the whistle blowing since Hyde Park and the noise at Rhinecliff and Barrytown, she in all probability had been sleeping fitfully and in her half-awake state thought the knock was at her door. When the lady heard the announcement "Ulster Landing," she may have reasoned that she was on the Ulster, and if the steamer was landing it was time to get off. In any event, she got up, got dressed and when the steamer ghosted through the fog. into the dock at Ulster Landing, she was at the gangway. As soon as the gangplank was put out, she walked ashore. There was very little freight for Ulster Landing, so the gangplank was taken in and the Ulster was on her way for Tivoli in but a few moments. As the steamer disappeared into the fog, it must have come as a rude shock to the lady to find herself virtually alone on a river dock before dawn. It sure wasn't Saugerties! After the Ulster left the dock, there was only one kerosene lantern for light and everything was so dark and still. The only other person around was the dockmaster who was an elderly man and very hard of hearing. He got all shook up with this well dressed lady alone in the freight shed. Finally, she got him to understand the mistake she had made. The dockmaster then got a chair for her to sit in until daylight, when he got a friend of his with a horse and wagon to take her on to Saugerties. I often wondered if she ever made the trip to Saugerties again by steamboat. AuthorCaptain William Odell Benson was a life-long resident of Sleightsburgh, N.Y., where he was born on March 17, 1911, the son of the late Albert and Ida Olson Benson. He served as captain of Callanan Company tugs including Peter Callanan, and Callanan No. 1 and was an early member of the Hudson River Maritime Museum. He retained, and shared, lifelong memories of incidents and anecdotes along the Hudson River. 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!
 The Sailing Race at the Spring Meet of the Hudson River Canoe Clubs. Drawn by M.J. Burns https://oldprintshop.com/product/12869 Editor's note: The following article was originally published in Harper's Weekly, June 13, 1885. Thanks to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. CANOEISTS ON THE HUDSON. A chronic case of the canoeing fever sends its victim early into camp, which explains the long line of tents by day and fires by night that last week greeted the eyes of early Hudson River tourists along the beach at Plum Point. This promontory is midway between Newburgh and Cornwall—a curving reach of shingle, well lined with the flood-wood essential to al fresco comfort, well shaded by the trees that grow on the forgotten ramparts of Fort Mackin—a Revolutionary relic, and commanding an altogether charming outlook down the northern gateway of the Highlands. Hither, on invitation of the “Dock Rats,” as the Newburgh Canoe Club styles itself, came the Hudson River clubs for their spring “meet.” There were the New York, Knickerbocker, and Brooklyn clubs from salt-water, the Shattemucs from Sing Sing, the “Dock Rats” aforesaid, the Mohicans from Albany, the Rondout clubs, and numerous unattached canoeists from everywhere alongshore. This year interest centered upon a new model, the “Sunbeam,” by Everson, of Brooklyn, which, it is believed, combines the best features of all the famous models that have gone before. She differs from her favorite predecessor, the “Shadow,” in having greater depth, no “tumble-home” of sides, less rake to stern-post, a straighter stem, a somewhat fuller, but still very fine, entrance, and greater breadth aft. The length is fifteen feet and breadth thirty inches. The mainmast is stepped twenty inches from the bow, a folding centre board is provided, and the usual water-tight compartments and fittings are constructed with an eye to the best results. The favorite rig is generally known as the “Mohican,” though, as is often the case in great inventions, many of its features had been simultaneously devised and used by another experimenter. It is in effect a happy combination of the well-known lug and lateen rigs. The leading canoes, as shown in the illustration, carry this rig. Mr. Vaux has this spring father improved upon it in the rig of his Sea Bee, a canoe of the new Everson model. In this the spars are all of the same length, facilitating stowage, and securing at once the advantage of a moderately high peak, with a wide spread of canvas well aloft. Mr. Vaux has also improved the set of his sails by having them cut so that the whole after “leach” is selvedge, the seams running parallel to it throughout. Two sets of sails have been made in this way for canoes of the “Sunbeam” type, and both have already shown first-rate qualities on all points of the wind. In the sailing races at Plum Point the wind was extremely baffling. The first race started with a fine breeze, the boats getting away well together, as our artist has shown, affording a sight dear to the canoeist's heart as they stood over toward the eastern shore. The second stake-boat was well up the river, and the wind fell away to a calm, varied by fitful cat's-paws, so that the last half of the affair called for a combination of luck and seamanship that left it any one's race till the finish, when everybody not personally interested was glad to see Mr. Gibson with Snake come in a winner. In the second race the programme was reversed. The start was hardly a start at all, owing to lack of wind, but midway of the race the river craft were seen booming up through the Highlands wing-and-wing. They brought the wind with them, and the racers were presently staggering under all they could carry. Mr. Whitlock's Guerm, with her enormous lug mainsail, was half a mile to the fore at the finish, and the rest of the fleet was all over the river, having drifted in all directions during the calm. A picturesque feature of the modern canoe is the barbaric fashion adopted by the original Indian canoeist of painting a “totem” or device of some sort on the sail. Thus the Mohicans carry a turtle, and General Oliver's Marion has in addition a little one in bronze posted on the bow of his boat. A dock-rat “rampant,” a muscalonge, a sea-horse, and so on, are among the devices adopted by the various clubs, and these, with the registration number of the canoe in large figures, as required by the rules of the American Canoe Association, lend a kaleidoscopic effect to a fleet under sail. The increasing interest in canoeing was evinced by the attendance of many spectators, including a number of ladies, who, in spite of rain, actual and threatened, inspected the camp, and curiously watched the proceedings; and one—a pretty girl she was—sat unconsciously for her portrait, gracefully wielding a double-bladed paddle while she watched the racers dash off before the short-lived breeze. 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 excerpts are from "A Narrative of the Adventures and Escape of Moses Roper, from American Slavery" published 1838. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing these excerpts. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. Learn more about Moses Roper here  Moses Roper (c. 1815 – April 15, 1891) was an African American abolitionist, author and orator. He wrote an influential narrative of his enslavement in the United States in his Narrative of the Adventures and Escape of Moses Roper from American Slavery and gave thousands of lectures in Great Britain and Ireland to inform the European public about the brutality of American slavery. Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moses_Roper At that time, I had scarcely any money, and lived upon fruit, so I returned to Albany, where I could get no work, as I could not show the recommendations I possessed, which were only from slave states, and I did not wish any one to know I came from them. After a time, I went up the western canal as steward in one of the boats. When I had gone about 350 miles up the canal, I found I was going too much towards the slave states, in consequence of which, I returned to Albany, and went up the northern canal, into one of the New England states-Vermont. The distance I had travelled, including the 350 miles I had to return from the west, and the 100 to Vermont, was 2,300 miles. When I reached Vermont, I found the people very hospitable and kind; they seemed opposed to slavery, so I told them, I was a run-away slave. I hired myself to a firm in Sudbury. After I had been in Sudbury some time, the neighboring farmers told me that I had hired myself for much less money than I ought. I mentioned it to my employers, who were very angry about it; I was advised to leave by some of the people round, who thought the gentlemen I was with would write to my former master, informing him where I was, and obtain the reward fixed upon me. Fearing I should be taken, I immediately left and went into the town of Ludlow, where I met with a kind friend, Mr. _______who sent me to school for several weeks. At this time, I was advertised in the papers and was obliged to leave; I went a little way out of Ludlow to a retired place, and lived two weeks with a Mr. ________ deacon of a church at Ludlow; at this place, I could have obtained education, had it been safe to have remained. [Author's note: It would not be proper to mention any names, as a person in any of the States in America found harboring a slave, would have to pay a very heavy fine. ] From there I went to New Hampshire, where I was not safe, so went to Boston, Massachusetts, with the hope of returning to Ludlow, to which place I was much attached. At Boston, I met with a friend who kept a shop, and took me to assist him for several weeks. Here I did not consider myself safe, as persons from all parts of the country were continually coming to the shop, and I feared some might come who knew me. I now had my head shaved and bought a wig, and engaged myself to a Mr. Perkins of Brookline, three miles from Boston, where I remained about a month. Some of the family discovered that I wore a wig, and said that I was a run-away slave, but the neighbors all round thought I was a white, to prove which, I have a document in my possession to call me to military duty. The law is, that no slave or colored person performs this, but every other person in America of the age of twenty-one is called upon to perform military duty, once or twice in the year, or pay a fine. COPY OF THE DOCUMENT. "Mr. Moses Roper, You being duly enrolled as a soldier in the company, under the command of Captain Benjamin Bradley, are hereby notified and ordered to appear at the Town House in Brookline, on Friday, 28th instant, at 3 o'clock P. M., for the purpose of filling the vacancy in said Company, occasioned by the promotion of Lieut. Nathaniel M. Weeks, and of filling any other vacancy which may then and there occur in said Company, and there wait further orders. By order of the Captain, E. P. WENTWORTH, Clerk." Brookline, Aug. 14th, 1835."* I then returned to the city of Boston, to the shop were I was before. Several weeks after I had returned to my situation two colored men informed me that a gentleman had been inquiring for a person whom, from the description, I knew to be myself, and offered them a considerable sum if they would disclose my place of abode; but they being much opposed to slavery, came and told me, upon which information I secreted myself till I could get off. I went into the Green mountains for several weeks, from thence to the city of New York, and remained in secret several days, till I heard of a ship, the "Napoleon", sailing to England, and on the 11th of November, 1835, I sailed, taking with me letters of recommendation to the Rev. Drs. Morison and Raffles, and the Rev. Alex. Fletcher. The time I first started from slavery was in July, 1834, so that I was nearly sixteen months in making my escape. On the 29th of November, 1835, I reached Liverpool, and my feelings when I first touched the shores of Britain were indescribable, and can only be properly understood by those who have escaped from the cruel bondage of slavery. When I reached Liverpool, I proceeded to Dr. Raffles, and handed my letters of recommendation to him. He received me very kindly, and introduced me to a member of his church, with whom I stayed the night. Here I met with the greatest attention and kindness. The next day, I went on to Manchester, where I met with many kind friends, among others Mr. Adshead, a hosier of that town, to whom I desire, through this medium, to return my most sincere thanks for the many great services which he rendered me, adding both to my spiritual and temporal comfort. I would not, however, forget to remember here, Mr. Leese, Mr. Childs, Mr. Crewdson, and Mr. Clare, the latter of whom gave me a letter to Mr. Scoble, the Secretary of the Anti-Slavery Society. I remained here several days, and then proceeded to London, December 12th, 1835, and immediately called on Mr. Scoble, to whom I delivered my letter; this gentleman procured me a lodging. I then lost no time in delivering my letters to Dr. Morison and the Rev. Alexander Fletcher, who received me with the greatest kindness, and shortly after this Dr. Morison sent my letter from New York, with another from himself, to the Patriot newspaper, in which he kindly implored the sympathy of the public in my behalf. The appeal was read by Mr. Christopherson, a member of Dr. Morison's church, of which gentleman I express but little of my feelings and gratitude, when I say that throughout he has been towards me a parent, and for whose tenderness and sympathy I desire ever to feel that attachment which I do not know how to express. I stayed at his house several weeks, being treated as one of the family. The appeal in the Patriot, referred to getting a suitable academy for me, which the Rev. Dr. Cox recommended at Hackney, where I remained half a year, going through the rudiments of an English education. 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 excerpts are from "A Narrative of the Adventures and Escape of Moses Roper, from American Slavery" published 1838. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing these excerpts. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. Learn more about Moses Roper here  Moses Roper (c. 1815 – April 15, 1891) was an African American abolitionist, author and orator. He wrote an influential narrative of his enslavement in the United States in his Narrative of the Adventures and Escape of Moses Roper from American Slavery and gave thousands of lectures in Great Britain and Ireland to inform the European public about the brutality of American slavery. Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moses_Roper Fearing the "Fox" would not sail before I should be seized, I deserted her, and went on board a brig sailing to Providence, that was towed out by a steamboat, and got thirty miles from Savannah. During this time I endeavored to persuade the steward to take me as an assistant, and hoped to have accomplished my purpose; but the captain had observed me attentively, and thought I was a slave, he therefore ordered me, when the steamboat was sent back, to go on board her to Savannah, as the fine for taking a slave from that city to any of the free states is five hundred dollars. I reluctantly went back to Savannah, among slaveholders and slaves. My mind was in a sad state; and I was under strong temptation to throw myself into the river. I had deserted the schooner "Fox", and knew that the captain might put me into prison till the vessel was ready to sail; if this had happened, and my master had come to the jail in search of me, I must have gone back to slavery. But when I reached the docks at Savannah, the first person I met was the captain of the "Fox", looking for another steward in my place. He was a very kind man, belonging to the free states, and inquired if I would go back to his vessel. This usage was very different to what I expected, and I gladly accepted his offer. This captain did not know that I was a slave. In about two days we sailed from Savannah for New York. I am (August, 1834) unable to express the joy I now felt. I never was at sea before, and, after I had been out about an hour, was taken with sea-sickness, which continued five days. I was scarcely able to stand up, and one of the sailors was obliged to take my place. The captain was very kind to me all this time; but even after I recovered, I was not sufficiently well to do my duty properly, and could not give satisfaction to the sailors, who swore at me, and asked me why I shipped, as I was not used to the sea. We had a very quick passage; and in six days, after leaving Savannah, we were in the harbor at Staten Island, where the vessel was quarantined for two days, six miles from New York. The captain went to the city, but left me aboard with the sailors, who had most of them been brought up in the slaveholding states, and were very cruel One of the sailors was particularly angry with me because he had to perform the duties of my place; and while the captain was in the city, the sailors called me to the fore-hatch, where they said they would treat me. I went, and while I was talking, they threw a rope round my neck and nearly choked me. The blood streamed from my nose profusely. They also took up ropes with large knots, and knocked me over the head. They said I was a negro; they despised me; and I expected they would have thrown me into the water. When we arrived at the city these men, who had so ill treated me, ran away that they might escape the punishment which would otherwise have been inflicted on them. When I arrived in the city of New York, I thought I was free; but learned I was not, and could be taken there. I went out into the country several miles, and tried to get employment, but failed, as I had no recommendation. I then returned to New York; but finding the same difficulty there to get work, as in the country, I went back to the vessel, which was to sail eighty miles up the Hudson River, to Poughkeepsie. When I arrived, I obtained employment at an inn, and after I had been there about two days, was seized with the cholera, which was at that place. The complaint was, without doubt, brought on by my having subsisted on fruit only, for several days, while I was in the slave states. The landlord of the inn came to me when I was in bed, suffering violently from cholera, and told me he knew I had that complaint, and as it had never been in his house, I could not stop there any longer. No one would enter my room, except a young lady, who appeared very pious and amiable, and had visited persons with the cholera. She immediately procured me some medicine at her own expense and administered it herself; and, whilst I was groaning with agony, the landlord came up and ordered me out of the house directly. Most of the persons in Poughkeepsie had retired for the night, and I lay under a shed on some cotton bales. The medicine relieved me, having been given so promptly, and next morning I went from the shed and laid on the banks of the river below the city. Towards evening, I felt much better, and went on in a steamboat to the city of Albany, about eighty miles. When I reached there, I went into the country, and tried for three or four days to procure employment, but failed.. 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 excerpts are from the Rockland County Messenger, January 4, 1894. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written.  Hudson River Maritime Museum THE MODEL OF A SHIP BUILT FROM BLOCKS OF WOOD AFTER DRAWINGS ON PAPER. Some of the Details of a Very Interesting Operation as Told by a Famous Constructor - England Behind the Other Leading Nations Until Recently. Who would ever have imagined that a great ship — a modern wonder of the sea like the Paris or the Camperdown — is built as a woman makes a dress or a tailor cuts out a suit of clothes? That is the fact. Ships nowadays are built from patterns, and those patterns do not greatly differ in appearance or in fact from those which enable American women to copy the fashion in dress. To be sure, a tailor's and dressmaker’s patterns are made of paper and are laid upon cloth or dress goods, while a shipbuilder's patterns are of wood, and steel and iron are made to follow them. That is perhaps the greatest difference between the methods of high grade tailoring and high grade shipbuilding, so far as their first steps go. The English have only lately begun to value the model as the basis of shipbuilding. A famous American shipbuilder says that the model of the yacht America was the first model he ever saw in England. That accounts for the absence of beauty in English ships, which even to this day possess varying degrees of ugliness, but no beauty. For, though they make models today, the mere making of them does not suffice. The art and appreciation of model making must be instinctive. The French and Spanish from the earliest times made beautiful ships and models, and when one of these ships fell into the hands of the English they adopted and used her if possible, or if she was too much damaged they took her apart, piece by piece, and built a new ship like her by copying the exact shape of each part of her in new material. Curiously enough, we Americans have always made beautiful ships — well proportioned, artistic in every line, while satisfactory in an equal degree for all practical purposes. A model is made in a way that seems queer to the average layman, who doubtless suspected that it was whittled into shape out of a block of wood, as we boys used to whittle our blocks at the age when all of us were shipbuilders. It is not done so. After an order has been received for a certain kind of ship the plans of it are drawn upon paper. Mr. Lewis Nixon, the famous constructor for the Cramps, tells me that very early in the process he makes a picture of the ship as he wants it to look, but though he does so others may not consider it essential. At all events, apart from any drawing, the needed dimensions and lines are developed upon paper, and then the model is made, and the president of the company begins to take very active interest in the work. The model is made in the shape of a block, formed of a number of pieces of wood glued together. These pieces represent the different curves of one side of the ship, from the keel to the gunwale — the different water lines is how the builders express it. To understand this the-reader most imagine a ship made of solid wood. Imagine that cut in half lengthwise, and then imagine one half laid on its side and cut into slices.  Hudson River Maritime Museum The pen and ink calculations and plans produce the shape of the ship, and from these it is possible to obtain the outline and dimensions of every slice or plane between the bottom and the top. Each plane is measured and drawn in outline on a board, and the outline is word unclear] or cut in the board with a [word unclear] tool. All the boards or pieces of wood are then glued together, and a simple looking block is made — a block that shows nothing of its true nature except that the top of it bears the graven outline of the top deck or gunwale line of a ship. Out of that simple square block will come the egg which is to hatch the splendid ship that is to be. That block, made up of slices, each with its dented outline of a different plane of the ship, is now cut away, much as we boys used to cut our block, but with this difference: Each board is cut exactly to the dented or graven line upon its surface. The shape the block will have when all the superfluous wood is cut away will be the model of the ship that was designed by the engineer on paper to fill the requirements of the customer’s order, but will that model stand? Will the master builder be satisfied with its lines? Will it do to be enlarged in steel and sent around the world as an example of what the Cramps consider the most beautiful and artistic and useful shape such a ship should have? No. Such a first model next to never suits the modeler, who in this case is Mr. Charles H. Cramp. He hacks into it with fervor. He tapers the bow. He digs away the stern. He shaves the whole model with the nice and dainty touches of a sculptor at work upon a statue on which is to rest his boast that he is a true artist. The fate of the wooden block alters the figures of the engineer’s plans. Perhaps the alteration is such that new drawings and a new model follow. Thus, by borrowing and lending, the two soon agree, and upon the two — the model and the plans — the ship will be built. Sometimes a model is on the scale of a quarter of an inch to each foot of the ship, but the scale differs with different builders.  Hudson River Maritime Museum The pen and ink calculations and plans produce the shape of the ship, and from these it is possible to obtain the outline and dimensions of every slice or plane between the bottom and the top. Each plane is measured and drawn in outline on a board, and the outline is word unclear] or cut in the board with a [word unclear] tool. All the boards or pieces of wood are then glued together, and a simple looking block is made — a block that shows nothing of its true nature except that the top of it bears the graven outline of the top deck or gunwale line of a ship. Out of that simple square block will come the egg which is to hatch the splendid ship that is to be. That block, made up of slices, each with its dented outline of a different plane of the ship, is now cut away, much as we boys used to cut our block, but with this difference: Each board is cut exactly to the dented or graven line upon its surface. The shape the block will have when all the superfluous wood is cut away will be the model of the ship that was designed by the engineer on paper to fill the requirements of the customer’s order, but will that model stand? Will the master builder be satisfied with its lines? Will it do to be enlarged in steel and sent around the world as an example of what the Cramps consider the most beautiful and artistic and useful shape such a ship should have? No. Such a first model next to never suits the modeler, who in this case is Mr. Charles H. Cramp. He hacks into it with fervor. He tapers the bow. He digs away the stern. He shaves the whole model with the nice and dainty touches of a sculptor at work upon a statue on which is to rest his boast that he is a true artist. The fate of the wooden block alters the figures of the engineer’s plans. Perhaps the alteration is such that new drawings and a new model follow. Thus, by borrowing and lending, the two soon agree, and upon the two — the model and the plans — the ship will be built. Sometimes a model is on the scale of a quarter of an inch to each foot of the ship, but the scale differs with different builders. Editor's Note: Lofting is one of the many courses taught at the HRMM Wooden Boat School. Register here to take Introduction to Lofting!
 Print of John Gould painting "Alexander Hamilton" 1924-1971 Description accompanying print: The original painting, by noted artist, John Gould, might well be called an inspired masterpiece. It was developed with help for accuracy from the well known expert, retired captain William O. Benson of Sleightsburgh, N.Y. He is an authority on the Hudson River History, its boats and shipping. Learn more about John Gould (1906-1996) here: https://johngouldart.com/about/ The maiden voyage of the "Alexander Hamilton" was placed by the artist for this painting, passing Rondout Creek, Kingston, N.Y. The area with the two Kingston Lighthouses makes an important historical background for this great documentary painting. The maiden voyage suggests a wedding procession with the gleaming white boat, the accompanying flotilla and the sparkling reflection of the sun on the water, resembling wedding confetti.  Hudson River Day Line Steamer "Alexander Hamilton". Albertype postcard circa 1910s. Hudson River Maritime Museum. The ALEXANDER HAMILTON'S First Trip The following is a brief description of the event by Captain William O. Benson: On the 29th of May, 1924, the Hudson River Day Line steamer ALEXANDER HAMILTON made her first voyage on the great Hudson River from New York City to the State Capital at Albany. I was a student in the old District No. 13 School at Port Ewen, and we had been told the HAMILTON was making her first trip up river. I was wishing she would be late, so I could rush out at 3:30 p.m. and run to the sand bank at Sleightsburgh and watch her come up. I will admit all day in school my mind was on the new HAMILTON and sure enough when school was dismissed I guess I was the first out and on my way to the sand bank. I could see the new flyer coming up off Schleede's brick yard south of Port Ewen. She was about an hour late due to some problem with her new engine, I guess due to the fact she was new. As she was passing the Rondout Lighthouse, the steamer JACOB H. TREMPER was just coming out of Rondout Creek. When the HAMILTON blew her landing whistle for Kingston Point of one long, one short and one long, how the sea gulls and egrets rose high in the air. The Lighthouse keeper rang the fog bell three times and the ferry TRANSPORT, just inside of the Lighthouse, blew three whistles in salute which the HAMILTON answered. Also on the starboard side of the HAMILTON, out in the river, was Cornell Steamboat Company tug HARRY blowing her chime whistle. It sure was great to stand and watch a new sidewheeler being greeted by other much older steamboats from another age. She was all decorated out with American flags and signal colors for her first trip up the river. She was faithful to the old Hudson for 47 long years, carrying many happy people up and down and to the pleasure parks along the beautiful Hudson River. [Editor's note: To get out on the Hudson River and Rondout Creek in the 2024 season lighthouse tours and Solaris solar powered boat rides are offered by HRMM here:  Limited edition souvenir commemorative cover produced by Jerry Mastropaolo. 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!
 “The maintenance of a merchant marine is of the utmost importance for national defense and the service of our commerce.” President Calvin Coolidge “In peacetime, the U.S. Merchant Marine includes all of the privately owned and operated vessels flying the American flag – passenger ships, freighters, tankers, tugs, and a wide miscellany of other craft. Merchant Marine vessels ply the high seas, the Great Lakes, and the inland waters, such as the Chesapeake Bay and navigable rivers.” Heroes in Dungarees by John Bunker During the colonial period, businessmen and legislators realized that prosperity was connected to trade. The more shipment of imports and exports through colonial ports the more money there was to be made. Carrying American produced goods to market in American made and managed ships kept the money in American pockets. Formation of the United States Merchant Marine is dated to 1775 when citizens at Machias, Massachusetts (now Maine) seized the British schooner HMS Margaretta in response to receiving word of the Battles of Lexington and Concord. After the Revolutionary War American ships were no longer under the protection of the British empire. The new nation offered incentives for goods to be moved on American ships. Wars on the European continent turned attention away from American activity as U.S. ships opened up new trade routes in the early Federal period. The Empress of China reached China in 1784, the first U.S. registered ship to do so. American shipping and shipbuilding flourished in the early 1800s. The years between the War of 1812 and the Civil War saw the development of canal systems connect the western interior with seaport markets. “Those years saw the merchant marine rise to its zenith in terms of the percentage of American trade carried. Only in the aftermaths of World Wars I and II would its percentage of world tonnage stand as high.” America's Maritime Legacy by Robert A. Kilmarx Sail powered packet ships, carrying passengers, pushed their crews hard. There was money to be made in quick passages across to Europe and back. Clipper ships also relied on speed as they carried high value cargoes of silk, spices and tea across the Pacific and the slave trade across the Atlantic.  SS Savannah - en.wikipedia.org The hybrid sailing ship/sidewheeler steamer Savannah’s 1819 Atlantic crossing, the first with a steam powered engine, signaled the start of the transition from sail to steam. The May 22 date for National Maritime Day commemorates the day Savannah set sail from Savannah, Georgia to England. The Savannah transported both passengers and cargo. More information about the SS Savannah is here: Restoration of the merchant marine after the disruption of the Civil War was a national political issue in 1872. The Republican party advocated adopting measures to restore American commerce and shipbuilding. Mail packets, carrying mail around the world were active in this period. Financial scandals were associated with mail packet contracts. Training sailors in an academic setting began in the last quarter of the 1800s, predecessors of the present day Maritime Academies. The period between the end of the Civil War in 1865 and the European outbreak of World War I was a dynamic time for shipping. American raw materials and agricultural products were shipped to world markets and products from those markets received and used by American industries.  3fo5438r Library of Congress  photo-lefteris-papaulakis-adobe-stock-70227 John Bunker writes: “When we entered the war, the Merchant Marine, although still privately owned, came under government control. The men who sailed the ships were civilians, but they also were under government control and subject to disciplinary action by the U.S. Coast Guard and, when overseas, by local U.S. military authorities. Compared with soldiers and sailors, merchant seaman had much more freedom of movement. After completing a voyage, they could usually leave a ship but had to join another vessel within a reasonable period of time or be drafted into the U.S. Armed Forces. There was no uniform required for merchant seamen. Some officers wore uniforms; many did not. During the war, merchant ships were operated by some forty steamship companies, and the War Shipping Administration assigned new ships to them as they were completed. A total of 733 U.S.-flag merchant ships were lost during World War II. More than 6,000 merchant seamen died as the result of enemy action.”p12  Google Images  http://www.oldsaltblog.com/2018/05/on-memorial-day-remembering-the-us-merchant-mariners-of-wwii/ U.S. Maritime Service personnel operated the 2,700 Liberty ships during World War II. The U.S. Maritime Service was the only service at the time with African American crew members serving in every capacity aboard ship. Seventeen Liberty Ships were named for African-Americans. Approximately 10%, 24,000, African Americans served in the Merchant Marine during World War II.  USMMA-LibertyWar_090817_038e2-c-Karen-Rubin During World War II the U.S. Merchant Marines moved war personnel and material under conditions shown above. The American Merchant Mariner’s memorial in Battery Park, New York City reads: "This memorial serves as a marker for America’s merchant mariners resting in the unmarked ocean depths." Poignantly the sailor in the water is covered twice a day at high tide. Installed in 1991 by sculptor Marisol Escobar designed based on a photo of the sinking of the SS Muskogee by German U-boat 123 on March 22nd, 1942. The photo was taken by the U-boat captain. The American crew all died at sea.  The memorial depicts doomed crew members reaching to save their fellow sailor. American Merchant Mariner's Memorial, Battery Park, New York City. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/the-american-merchant-mariner-s-memorial-new-york-new-york  Poignantly the sailor in the water is covered twice a day at high tide. American Merchant Mariner's Memorial, Battery Park, New York City. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/the-american-merchant-mariner-s-memorial-new-york-new-york  The hands never reach. American Merchant Mariner's Memorial, Battery Park, New York. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/the-american-merchant-mariner-s-memorial-new-york-new-york  Sculptor Marisol Escobar based her design on this photo of the sinking of the SS Muskogee by German U-boat 123 on March 22nd, 1942. The photo was taken by the U-boat captain. The American crew all died at sea. https://turnstiletours.com/the-photo-that-inspired-of-the-merchant-mariners-memorial/ Merchant mariners who served in World War II were denied veterans recognition and benefits including the GI Bill. This despite having suffered a per capita casualty rate greater then those of the U.S. Armed Forces. In 1988 a federal court order granted veteran status to merchant mariners who participated in World War II. On May 31, 1993, the Hudson River Maritime Museum received a brass plaque reading: “The United States Merchant Marine. This plaque is dedicated in memory of those who served in the U.S. Merchant Marine during W.W. II and in particular to those who did not survive “The Battle of the Atlantic”. Their dedication, deeds and sacrifices while transporting war material to the war shared their sacrifices and final victory, we, their surviving shipmates dedicate this memorial with the promise that they shall not be forgotten. Died 6,834. Wounded 11,000. Ship Sunk 833. P.O.W. 604. Died in Prisoner of War Camps 61. American Merchant Marine Veterans – May 31, 1993.”  Photo by Ron Searl Today, the Maritime Administration (MARAD) is the Department of Transportation agency responsible for the U.S. waterborne transportation system. Founded in 1950 the mission of MARAD is to foster, promote and develop the maritime industry of the United States to meet the nation’s economic and security needs. MARAD maintains the Ready Reserve Fleet, a fleet of cargo ships in reserve to provide surge sea-lift during war and national emergencies. A predecessor of the RRF, the Hudson River Reserve Fleet of World War II ships, popularly referred to as the Ghost Fleet, was in the Jones Point area from 1946 to 1971. More about the Maritime Administration including a Vessel History Database can be found here: https://www.maritime.dot.gov/  Hudson River Reserve Fleet, Tompkins Cove http://navy.memorieshop.com/Reserve-Fleets/Hudson-river/index.html United States Merchant Marine TrainingModern day training of merchant marines is held at seven academies, two of which U.S. Merchant Marine Academy and SUNY Maritime College, are in New York State. The U.S. Merchant Marine Academy, Kings Point, NY (USMMA) is one of the five United States service academies. When the academy was dedicated on 30 September 1943, President Franklin D. Roosevelt, noted "the Academy serves the Merchant Marine as West Point serves the Army and Annapolis the Navy." USMMA graduates earn:
USMMA graduates fulfill their service obligations on their own, providing annual proof of employment in a wide variety of MARAD approved occupations. Either as active duty officers in any branch of the military or uniformed services, including the Public Health Service and the National Oceanic Atmospheric Administration or entering the civilian work force in the maritime industry. State-supported maritime colleges: There are six state-supported maritime colleges. These graduates earn appropriate licenses from the U.S. Coast Guard and/or U.S. Merchant Marine. They have the opportunity to participate in a commissioning program, but do not receive an immediate commission as an Officer within a service.
More information about the U.S. Merchant Marines can be found here:
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 The tug Pegasus was built in 1907 as the Standard Oil Co. No. 16 and served waterside refineries and terminals of Standard Oil. When McAllister acquired her in 1953, her original steam engine was replaced with diesel. Pamela Hepburn of Hepburn Marine Incorporated bought her in 1987 to tow oil barges and railroad car-floats, along with other transport work, and it was then that she was renamed Pegasus. Retired in 1997 after a 90-year career, she underwent extensive restoration work to serve as a training vessel and museum, and it is from this time period (c. 2000) that she is depicted in Eagleton’s painting. Although Pegasus was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2001 as part of a preservation initiative, she was unfortunately scrapped in 2021. Hudson River Maritime Museum are thrilled to announce a brand new exhibition, Working Waterfronts, displaying oil and pastel paintings by Hudson Valley maritime artist, Peter K. Eagleton. Working Waterfronts will open to the public on May 17 and be on display in the museum’s East Gallery through December 22, 2024. The late Peter K. Eagleton (1937-2005) was an accomplished artist of marine subjects and marine historian. He was familiar with ships, tugboats, docks, and yards, encountering them, regularly during his career as a shipbroker. His strikingly vibrant and carefully composed paintings celebrate the world of working waterfronts and the graceful shapes of freighters, tugs, ships, lighters, yard oilers, and tankers that plied the waters of New York Harbor and the Hudson River.  Maritime Artist Peter Eagleton. About Peter K. Eagleton (1937-2005) Born in Yonkers, New York, Mr. Eagleton was an accomplished artist and marine historian. He worked for over 36 years in the steamship business as a shipbroker in New York and Scandinavia. He also served on a panel for the U.S. government negotiating trade rates with Asia. His memberships included the Salmagundi Club, The American Society of Marine Artists, the National Maritime Historical Society of America and the Edward Hopper Foundation, as well as an Official U.S. Coast Guard Artist. Eagleton also served for six years as a sergeant in the National Guard. His work was recognized by the Coast Guard’s George Gray Award for outstanding artistic achievement and his paintings appear in a number of significant marine art collections, including the National Coast Guard Museum, the American Merchant Marine Museum, the Mystic Seaport Museum, and the Intrepid Museum.  A red railroad barge lies against a deteriorating wooden pier outside of Edgewater, New Jersey, located just south of the George Washington Bridge. This type of vessel is known as a “lighter,” a flat-bottomed barge that transfers goods between moored ships in the harbor and a railroad terminus on shore. There were as many as 1000 of these covered barges operating in New York Harbor by 1950, and they were referred to collectively as the “Railroad Navy” since most were owned by the railroad companies with terminals in the greater New York area. Vessels like this one collected along Edgewater Flats, muddy shoals just north of the town, as waterfront industry declined in the second half of the 20th century. From 1994 through 1995, the Army Corps of Engineers engaged in a large project to clear more than 100 decommissioned and abandoned barges from the flats. Although the vessels may not have been operational, some were still used for a variety of purposes. The Knickerbocker Canoe Club, established in 1880, held monthly meetings aboard a steel barge on the flats and used two wooden barge hulks to store their gear. The New York Motorboat Club used two other barges nearby. Similarly, the barge pictured here has outlived its heyday as a working vessel, but smoke emanates from the chimney, indicating that someone still benefits from the warmth of the stove inside. The huge majority of these barges were surrendered and scrapped when the Army Corps of Engineers ordered the users to either refloat or lose the vessels. Two prominent examples of covered railroad barges have survived into the 21st century: Lehigh Valley No. 79 (1914), which now serves as the Waterfront Museum in Red Hook, Brooklyn, and the Pennsylvania Railroad No. 399 (1942), privately owned here on the Rondout Creek in Kingston. Peter Eagleton’s paintings focus on the sometimes-unglamorous work boats of New York Harbor and the Hudson River: tugboats, barges, tankers, and ferries, all working to transport cargo and people from place to place. In the spirit of American Realism, the movement that began in literature in the late 19th century and in visual arts in the early 20th century, Eagleton chooses these everyday images of working waterfronts as the unconventional subjects of his art, finding beauty amidst the rust. Just as Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks famously offers a glimpse into the late-night scene of a diner with its three customers and singular server, as if the viewer of the painting is just walking past, Eagleton’s paintings act as a window into the often-overlooked world of marine transportation, scenes we pass daily as we drive over Hudson River bridges or down Abeel Street right here in Kingston. These paintings invite us to pause and consider these scenes not only as the unseen cogs in the commerce that powers our daily lives, but as aesthetic subjects in their own right. 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