​Theodore J. Cornu was born in New Jersey to a Swiss mother and father, the latter of whom soon abandoned Cornu, his mother and siblings. The young Cornu demonstrated an affinity for art early on and eventually found his way to a Manhattan engrossing studio, where he soon became employed as an “engrosser” hand lettering diplomas and other commemorative documents. Canoeing was popular amongst his engrossing colleagues, which led him to the boating community in Ft. Washington. His love for canoeing seems to have catalyzed his interest in both the Hudson River and Native American customs.

Driven by his passion for canoeing, he forged his way up the Hudson to explore the Croton River. Soon thereafter he made the acquaintance of Anne Van Cortlandt. The two hit it off and he was able to rent The Ferry House on the shore adjacent to The Van Cortlandt Manor House. With the passage of a few years, he become adept in the process of building canoes and typically had several in various stages of assembly on the premises.

​His activism seem to have emerged after years of enduring the oil slicks washing up the Croton River from nearby The New York Central Railroad facility, where the untreated waste from its cleaning procedures was discharged into the mouth of the Croton River. By 1933 Cornu had had enough. The fish caught in the river were said to smell and taste like oil, and Cornu was, thus, able to enlist the support of some fishermen in Crotonville who implored the State to pressure the railroad to clean up its act. They won.

​By the late thirties, Cornu was a member of four different canoeing associations and was clearly wedded to the rivers. In 1936 he joined forces with other likeminded individuals  and was involved in the founding of the  Hudson River Conservation Society. From this pulpit he preferred his own interpretation of native inspired environmental care wisdom.

Cornu was closely associated with another Croton river lover, Egon Ottinger whose wife was involved with a host of gardening associations and  often presented him to their adherents as a lecturer on “the ecology."

By the early 50’s Cornu had stepped up his profile and had formulated the basics of his Hudson Valley Echoes environmental activist group. It had no rules or dues. Members simply pledged to safeguard the rivers each according to their own skills and resources.

​By 1956, Cornu’s proximity to Croton Point gave rise to another grievance. Westchester County’s use of the point as a dump troubled him to no end. Aside from the obvious and unavoidable stench, Cornu had, since 1926 observed the loss of vital wetland bird habitat, as the county filled in marshland with garbage. His visionary leadership caused him to issue the initial salvo against the county, which persisted in using Croton Point as a disposal site until dumping was curtailed 30 years later, in 1986 by order of the courts. 

In the 1987 ”Complete Revival Program” published by Clearwater, on a page captioned “The Art River Saving,” the organization wrote that Cornu, who has passed away a year earlier  at the age of 101 “had perhaps the longest association with the Hudson River of any conservationist."

Most accounts place the start of the Modern Environmental Movement with the 1962 publication of Rachel Carson’s “Silent Spring”, or alternatively with the pitched battle against Con Edison’s “Rube Goldberg-esque” Storm King power proposal. 

The first Earth Day was celebrated on April 22, 1970, roughly a year after Cornu’s demise. By that time time Cornu had been making “good trouble” protesting and advocating for the environment over 35 years. Cornu’s unrelenting environmental activism seems to have pre-dated the “Movement” by decades. For this reason, it would seem prudent to re-examine his place in environmental history.

Most people familiar with CLEARWATER know the sloop was the brainchild of the late American folk legend and activist Pete Seeger. Pete was an idealist and an optimist. He once wrote, “There is a little Don Quixote in all of us.” You couldn’t tell him something couldn’t be done. But when you take a closer look at CLEARWATER’s story, it’s a miracle the boat was ever built at all.

At the time CLEARWATER was built, the “tall ship revival” was still a decade or two away. Yes, the first Operation Sail brought tall ships from around the world to New York Harbor in 1964, but no one was building new tall ships with one or two exceptions. There were vessels built that were replicas of specific ships, such as the MAYFLOWER II, launched in 1956, and the HMS BOUNTY, launched in 1962 and built specifically for the filming of Mutiny on the Bounty. But to form a new not-for-profit to build a replica of a type of ship -- not even a famous historic ship? Nobody was doing that. Seeger and the fledgling Clearwater organization were ahead of the curve.

When Pete got interested in sailing and subsequently in Hudson River sloops -- the traditional cargo-carrying sailing vessels of the Hudson -- he got an idea. Maybe you could build a vessel that was so grand, so extraordinary, and one that had not sailed the river in a very long time, and maybe you could draw people down to the banks of a river that had long ago been forsaken. Pete saw potential where others did not and believed that if CLEARWATER could bring people to the river, then maybe it could help people to “love their river again.”

The challenges that the Clearwater organization faced were many. First and foremast, perhaps, was the fact that it was the 1960s. Pete Seeger had been blacklisted, and the Vietnam War was raging and becoming increasingly unpopular. So unpopular that President Lyndon B. Johnson declared in a nationally televised address in March 1968 that he would not run for re-election. The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in April of that year, sparking riots in over 100 American cities. Robert Kennedy was assassinated in June. In August, there were violent clashes between police and protesters in Chicago during the Democratic National Convention.

Years later, in recounting the early days of the sloop project, Pete would write:
It really seemed a frivolous idea. The world was full of agony; the Vietnam War was heating up. Money was needed for all sorts of life-and-death matters, and here we were raising money to build a sailboat.

It wasn’t just a turbulent civil and political climate, however, that made building CLEARWATER a challenge. There hadn’t been a Hudson River sloop built in over 100 years, and there were none left afloat. 

Pete’s inspiration for building a Hudson River sloop came in 1963 after his friend Vic Schwarz loaned him a copy of the 1908 book Sloops of the Hudson, written by William Verplanck and Moses Collyer, two retired sloop captains. He read it through in one night. Some time elapsed before Pete wrote his friend a five-page letter, which started:

"One way to see if a pipe dream has any practicality is to get it down on paper. So I’m writing you now with the most grandiose and ambitious plan. It will make our wives groan. It will probably never get beyond the paper stage, but here goes:"

He wrote the letter and then forgot about it. It was September 1965. Vic did not forget the letter and began chatting up fellow commuters on the train to New York. That fall, Vic called up Pete and asked, “When are we going to start building that sloop?” Pete answered, “You must be kidding!”

Much of what we know about how the rest of the story unfolded is because in the 1960s people actually wrote letters and saved them. They also often saved carbon copies. Postage was inexpensive and long distance phone calls were most definitely not. After making a foray into the library at Mystic Seaport, Pete wrote a letter that December to Joel White, a boat designer and builder.

Joel was the son of the writer E. B. White and had a boatyard in Brooklin, Maine. White wrote back, telling Pete his shop was too small to build a boat that big, and he was too busy to do any design work. He did recommend naval architect Cyrus Hamlin of Southwest Harbor, Maine. “He is a fine architect, and I am sure you would like him,” Joel wrote.

The following month -- January 1966 -- Pete and Vic met with Cyrus Hamlin at the National Boat Show in New York City. Pete and Cy hit it off. Cy sent a formal letter to Pete in February, outlining his estimate for the cost of construction and a quotation for his design fee based on the estimate. In April, Pete wrote Cy a $500 personal check to cover the naval architect’s “advance research” on the Hudson River sloop.

Pete’s initial vision, as outlined in his letter to Vic, was for the sloop to be something like a floating timeshare. Off the top of his head, he estimated that a 55-foot sloop might cost $100,000 to build. That was more money than he and Vic could scrape together, so he suggested that they try to form “Hudson River Sloop Clubs” up and down the river. If there were 10 clubs, then each would have to raise $10,000 to build the vessel, and each club could sail the sloop for a week at a time.

Eventually, as we know, a non-profit formed. The Hudson River Sloop Restoration incorporated in September 1966. Interestingly enough, nowhere in the Articles of Incorporation is there any mention of the organization having an environmental purpose. Instead, the document states the purpose as:

"To acquaint people with matters relating to our cultural heritage; and to maintain and promote interest in the history of the Hudson River both as a commercial and pleasure artery; and in connection therewith to build, own, operate and exhibit replicas of the great sloops which once freely navigated the river, thereby generating a greater interest in our cultural heritage and an understanding of the contributions made to our culture and commerce by the river and the sloops which sailed it."

Also interesting is that multiple sloops are suggested and that there is no mention of actually sailing with passengers. 

Whether or not the sloop could be classified as a “yacht” or would have to be classified as a “passenger-carrying vessel,” making it subject to United States Coast Guard regulations and inspection, was an important determination that had to be made. Having to comply with USCG regulations would make the sloop more expensive to build and operate. It would also mean that it could not be an historically accurate replica, and perhaps not even a very good-looking one.

At issue was the tragic sinking of the Brigantine ALBATROSS in 1961. A “school ship” carrying 13 American teenagers and five crew members went down in a sudden squall in the Gulf of Mexico. Six lives were lost, including four of the students. Although the ship was Panamanian registered, the USCG investigated the accident. Additional analysis resulted in the publication of On the Stability of Sailing Vessels by USCG officers John G. Beebe-Center and Richard B. Brooks in 1966. This work questioned the reliability of traditional stability assessment techniques for sailing vessels and would result in the adoption of more stringent USCG stability criteria.

While the Maine fleet of “windjammer” schooners had been grandfathered when it came to stability requirements, new vessels would now come under additional scrutiny because of the ALBATROSS, even those built prior to the publication of the Beebe-Center & Brooks paper. The schooner MARY DAY, built for the charter trade by Harvey Gamage and launched in 1962, somehow sailed beneath the Coast Guard’s radar. This was not the case for the topsail schooner SHENANDOAH, also built for the charter trade by Gamage and launched in 1964. Because SHENANDOAH did not satisfy the Coast Guard’s stability requirements, the schooner’s owner was not allowed to charge his passengers any fee for its entire first season. The following year, Capt. Bob Douglas was able to obtain a conditional stability letter.

Cy retained a Boston-based attorney in the spring of 1966 on behalf of Pete and the “sloop committee” to help facilitate a dialogue with the Coast Guard and explore various possibilities for the future vessel’s operation. Not coincidentally, Douglas had used this same attorney for his legal troubles. One option that was explored was to form a cooperative, wherein all the members of the cooperative would be considered “shareholders” and thereby owners of the vessel. The Coast Guard rejected this approach. Ultimately, Cy convinced HRSR to build their sloop to meet Coast Guard regulations, very likely the very first sailing vessel built to meet the new, more onerous stability requirements. This was not until as late as May or June of 1968, and there was still no plan to actually carry paying passengers.

When, exactly, Pete realized that the sloop could be a tool to help clean up the river, we don’t know. However, in a New York Times article written following the organization’s first major fundraiser on October 2, 1966, he is quoted as follows:
"Some people might think it’s the most frivolous thing in the world to raise money for a sailboat. But we want people to love the Hudson, not think of it as a convenient sewer."

Despite Pete’s “green” inclinations, clearly many people within the organization were solely interested in maritime history and had no interest in being standard-bearers for the environmental movement. This is reflected in the results of a membership vote to name the sloop in March of 1969. There were 44 names nominated. Some of them were pretty silly, such as GREASY LUCK and SEWER RAT. In the end, the name CLEARWATER narrowly edged out HERITAGE, with HOPE OF THE HUDSON placing third.

While there may not have been existing Hudson River sloops for Cy to study, he was able to research the vessel through builders’ half-hull models, periodicals and reference works, including John W. Griffith’s Treatise on Marine and Naval Architecture, published in 1850, and Lauchlan McKay’s The Practical Shipbuilder, published in 1839. He gleaned information about rigging details through paintings, period photographs and even a placemat or two that he discovered in a gift shop. He also had access to photos and drawings from Howard Chapelle, the great American naval architect and maritime historian, who was then a senior historian at the Smithsonian Institution. “Chap” provided Cy with the lines of the 1848 sloop VICTORINE and two others.

Ultimately, Pete and company decided their sloop should measure approximately 75 feet long as this would allow for more headroom below decks. Cy presented preliminary drawings at the organization’s annual membership meeting on November 5, 1967.

By late January of 1968, Cy had performed the necessary work to put the sloop project out to bid. He sent bidding documents to at least three yards in Maine and three in New York, including Rondout Marine. Cy also inquired with at least two yards overseas – one in Spain and another in Yugoslavia – where he had connections. Soliciting a bid from a foreign yard was not his idea. The organization thought that a foreign-built vessel might be less expensive. So Cy also agreed to look into shipyards in Nova Scotia. It was his opinion however that “the desirability of a yard is probably inversely proportional to the distance from the United States.” In the end, Harvey F. Gamage, Shipbuilder, Inc. of South Bristol, Maine came in with the lowest bid of those yards that submitted bids -- there is no evidence that any foreign yard did -- and was awarded the contract.

Construction of the sloop began in August 1968. There was a keel-laying ceremony at the shipyard on October 18 attended by about 50 HRSR members. Toshi Seeger anointed the length of the sloop’s keel with Hudson River water, and Pete led everyone in song. After two-years of recruiting new members and vigorous fundraising, there was finally something concrete to celebrate. Over the next several months, however, a lot more money still needed to be raised. Approximately 200 guests attended a special fundraiser hosted by Mr. & Mrs. Steven Rockefeller at the Rockefeller Farm Barn at Pocantico Hills in November. There were informational meetings and slide show presentations at rotary clubs, libraries and coffee houses. Numerous concerts were held, including a sold out performance at Carnegie Hall in April 1969.

Three larger gifts -- $10,000 each -- came from the Boscobel Restoration, Inc., the Lila Acheson Wallace Fund, and the Rockefeller Family Fund.

On May 17, a crowd of about 2,500 gathered at the shipyard. People packed inside the boatshed to hear speeches and celebrate the occasion with song. At approximately 12:30 PM -- high tide -- Clearwater slid down the marine railway and into the waters of a quiet cove alongside the Damariscotta River. The schooner BOWDOIN was in attendance, as was Maine’s governor, Kenneth Curtis. It was a belated birthday present for Pete, who had turned 50 precisely two weeks earlier.

Over the course of the next six weeks, the ship’s crew got busy rigging, fitting out, and provisioning the vessel. There were sea trials and Coast Guard inspections. But before the sloop could leave South Bristol, the shipbuilder needed to be paid in full. In the days before the sloop set sail, Toshi Seeger frantically called up a number of friends -- people she and Pete knew from the folk music world -- to secure personal loans to pay the bill. The Newport Folk Festival loaned the organization $10,000. The Seegers chipped in another $7,000.

Finally, on June 27, the sloop set sail for Portland, the first stop on its journey. One of the plans to raise money was to give a series of concerts at various ports-of-call between Maine and New York on the sloop’s maiden voyage. To this end, most of the sailing crew was made up of musician friends of Pete’s. Billed as the “Hudson River Sloop Singers,” the group included Pete, Capt. Allan Aunapu, Louis Killen, Gordon Bok, Don McLean, Jimmy Collier, Rev. Frederick Douglass Kirkpatrick, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott and others. They made about 20 appearances including at The Fens in Boston and the Newport Folk Festival. The money raised made it possible to begin to repay those loans.

On August 1, 1969, CLEARWATER tied up at South Street Seaport to much fanfare and with New York City Mayor John Lindsay onboard. What had started as a “pipe dream” nearly four years earlier was now a reality. A Hudson River sloop would be sailing the river once again.

Fifty years later, CLEARWATER is still sailing. From on board, hundreds of thousands of school children -- and group sail participants of all ages -- have experienced the beauty and wonder of the Hudson River ecosystem. CLEARWATER’S award-winning education program has provided a model for organizations around the country, and the sloop remains a powerful symbol in the fight for clean water and a healthier, greener planet.

​This article was originally published in the 2019 issue of the Pilot Log. ​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!​​​​

May marks the birthday month of the sloop Clearwater, which was launched on May 17, 1969 in South Bristol, Maine. To celebrate, we thought we'd share another Pete Seeger song, but this one in a little more informal setting. 

On morning of August 21, 2010 Pete Seeger, Lorre Wyatt and friends gathered aboard the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater to film their performance of the new song "God's Counting on Me, God's Counting on You." After the filming, while the Clearwater was docking, they had an impromptu jam session that included this song "Sailin' Up, Sailin' Down." Pete Seeger played banjo and took two solos. Lorre Wyatt played acoustic guitar and sang a verse.

Pete passed away in 2014, but his legacy lives on. We were fortunate to have him involved in and present for the construction of the Kingston Homeport and Education Center right here at the Hudson River Maritime Museum - that building is shared with Clearwater, which uses it as their winter home port.  

"Sailin' Up, Sailin' Down" Lyrics
Sailing up (sailing up), sailing down (sailing down)
Up (down), down (up!) - up and down the river
Sailing on - stopping all along the way
The river may be dirty now but it's getting cleaner every day

People come (people come), people go (people go)
Come (go), go (come) - up and down the river
Sailing on - stopping all along the way
The river may be dirty now but it's getting cleaner every day

Garbage here (garbage here), garbage there (garbage there)
Here (there), there (here) - up and down the river
Sailing on - stopping all along the way
The river may be dirty now but it's getting cleaner every day

Catching fish (catching fish), catching cold (catching cold)
Cold (fish), fish (cold) - up and down the river
Sailing on - stopping all along the way
The river may be dirty now but it's getting cleaner every day

People come (people come), people go (people go)
Come (go), go (come) - up and down the river
Sailing on - stopping all along the way
The river may be dirty now but it's getting cleaner every day


Clearwater needs your help just as much as we do. You can donate to support them to make sure they're around for another 50 years!
​
Stay tuned for a "History of the Clearwater," which will be posted this Thursday, May 14, 2020 in honor of Clearwater's birthday.

For an overview of the construction of Clearwater and her launching, you can visit our online exhibit "Rescuing the River: 50 Years of Environmental Activism on the Hudson." 

Did you ever sail aboard Clearwater? Did you ever sing this song with Pete? Share your memories in the comments!

Thanks to HRMM volunteer Mark Heller for sharing his knowledge of Hudson River music history for this series.

​​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:
Twenty years ago, four friends with an abiding love of the Hudson River and its history stepped away from their families and their work to travel up the river in a homemade strip-planked canoe to experience the river on its most intimate terms. The team set off from Liberty State Park in New Jersey and completed the adventure nine days later just below Albany where one of the paddlers lived. They began with no itinerary and no pre-arranged lodging or shore support. There were no cell phones. The journey deepened their appreciation for the river and its many moods, the people who live and work beside the river and the importance of friendship in sustaining our lives. 

Please join us vicariously on this excellent adventure. We'll be posting every Friday for the next several weeks, so stay tuned! Follow the adventure here.

​We got up and out of our tents at 6:00 AM and fixed some oatmeal for breakfast. We busted out a new oatmeal carton so that we could get to the apple cinnamon packages.  We broke camp and launched the canoe at 7:30. Just as we paddled past the north end of the island, two herons appeared having resumed their duties as island sentries. A flock of cormorants perched on a buoy observed our departure in silence. We waved to two campers on the east bank fishing for breakfast as the smoke from their campfire curled downward toward our canoe. After passing below Mills Mansion, we set our course for the picturesque Esopus Meadows Lighthouse. As we approached the lighthouse, we observed scaffolding and a “Save the Lighthouse” sign. Built in 1871, it was placed near the middle of the river to guide mariners away from shallow water extending all the way toward the west shore. The lighthouse was built above a round stone caisson on wooden pilings. Decades after it was built, it was hit by a ship. The integrity of the caisson was compromised causing a significant tilt and continuing dilemmas for maintenance and preservation. 

​The river makes a significant bend toward the east here. We cut back across the main channel of the river toward Sturgeon Point on the east shore in an attempt to shorten the distance to Kingston. The 1913 lighthouse at the mouth of the Rondout became our new heading and we again crossed the river diagonally to enter the creek. It was high tide as we paddled up the creek and tied up to a dock on the Strand just in front of the sloop Clearwater. After resting, we proceeded to Joe’s marina in Connelly where we tied up for the night. The weather report for tomorrow was ominous.

It's Earth Day Week here at the Hudson River Maritime Museum, so of course we have to celebrate Music Monday with that quintessential Hudson River Song, "My Dirty Stream" by Pete Seeger. Also known as "The Hudson River Song," Pete wrote this song for the album "God Bless the Grass," released in 1982. The whole album has an environmental theme, and "My Dirty Stream" in particular was designed to raise awareness not only of the pollution of the Hudson River, but also about the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater, which Pete founded in 1964. 

"My Dirty Stream (The Hudson River Song)" Lyrics
​Sailing down my dirty stream
Still I love it and I'll keep the dream
That some day, though maybe not this year
My Hudson River will once again run clear

It starts high in the mountains of the north
Crystal clear and icy trickles forth
With just a few floating wrappers of chewing gum
Dropped by some hikers to warn of things to come

At Glens Falls, five thousand honest hands
Work at the consolidated paper plant
Five million gallons of waste a day
Why should we do it any other way?

Down the valley one million toilet chains
Find my Hudson so convenient place to drain
And each little city says, "Who, me?
Do you think that sewage plants come free?"

Out in the ocean they say the water's clear
But I live right at Beacon here
Half way between the mountains and sea
Tacking to and fro, this thought returns to me

Well it's Sailing up my dirty stream
Still I love it and I'll dream
That some day, though maybe not this year
My Hudson and my country will run clear.


When was the first time you heard "My Dirty Stream?" Did you ever hear Pete live in concert? Share your thoughts in the comments!

If you'd like to learn more about the construction of the sloop Clearwater, the role of Pete and the Sloop Singers in the passage of the Clean Water Act, and more, visit our online exhibit, "Rescuing the River: 50 Years of Environmental Activism on the Hudson." 

​Thanks to HRMM volunteer Mark Heller for sharing his knowledge of Hudson River music history for this series.

​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!​

"Sailing Down My Golden River" is perhaps one of the most iconic of Pete Seeger's river-themed songs. It is certainly a favorite of many Hudson River Maritime Museum staff, board members, and volunteers. 

​Pete Seeger wrote "Sailing Down My Golden River" in the 1960s, coinciding with his idea to build a replica Hudson River sloop as a way to educate people about the plight of the polluted Hudson River. To learn more about Pete's dream and the construction of the replica sloop that would become known as Clearwater, visit our online exhibit "Rescuing the River." 

Released on his fourth studio album, "Rainbow Race," in 1973 on the Columbia Records label, this version is a live recording from the 1979 Bread & Roses Festival. 

"Sailing Down My Golden River"
​Words and Music by Pete Seeger

​Sailing down my golden river
Sun and water all my own
Yet I was never alone

Sun and water, old life givers
L'll have them where ere I roam
And I was not far from home

Sunlight glancing on the water
Life and death are all my own
Yet I was never alone

Life for all my sons and daughters
Golden sparkles in the foam
And I was not far from home

Sailing down this winding highway
Travelers from near and far
And I was never alone

Exploring all the little byways
Sighting all the distant stars
And I was not far from home

Sailing down my golden river
Sun and water all my own
Yet I was never alone

Sun and water, old life givers
L'll have them where ere I roam
And I was not far from home

Yet I was never alone
And I was not far from home

Do you have a favorite Pete Seeger song or memory? We were lucky to host Pete in 2012 for the "barn raising" of the timber framed structure at the museum called the Kingston Home Port and Education Center (affectionately dubbed "The Barn") - a building shared by the Hudson River Maritime Museum and our friends the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater. Appropriately, he played "If I had a Hammer" to the crowds, at the age of 93. 

If "Sailing Down My Golden River" brings up a special memory or meaning for you, please share in the comments! And if this is your first time hearing the song, what did you think?

Special thanks to Hudson River Maritime Museum volunteer Mark Heller for contributing to this post. 

​​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!

In 1976, the year of the Bicentennial, folksinger Pete Seeger and songwriter Ed Reneham released the album Fifty Sail on Newburgh Bay. Designed as a fundraiser for the Hudson River Sloop Restoration, Inc. group, which would later becomes Clearwater, the album featured a number of traditional and original songs about the history of the Hudson River and other New York waterways. Recorded in Woodstock that summer and released in October, 1976, the album features Pete Seeger and Ed Reneham. 

This particular song, "Hudson River Steamboat" has a murky history, but appears to be a traditional tune. In the liner notes for Fifty Sail on Newburgh Bay, William Gecke, lyricst for five of the original songs, wrote that "Hudson River Steamboat" was performed "as learned from John and Lucy Allison." 

"Hudson River Steamboat" Lyrics

Hudson River steamboat, Steamin’ up and down.
New York to Albany Or any river town.
Choo-choo to go ahead, Choo-choo to back ‘er.
Captain and the first mate, They both chew tobacker.

Oh, choo-choo to go ahead, choo-choo to slacker.
Packet boat, towboat, and a double-stacker.
Choo-choo to Tarrytown, Spuyten Duyvil all around.
Choo-choo to go ahead, choo-choo to back’er

Shad boat, pickle boat, lyin’ side by side.
Fisherfolk and sailormen waitin’ for the tide.
Raincloud, stormcloud over yonder hill.
Thunder on the Dunderberg the rumble’s in the kill.

Oh, choo-choo to go ahead, choo-choo to slacker.
Packet boat, towboat, and a double-stacker.
Choo-choo to Tarrytown, Spuyten Duyvil all around.
Choo-choo to go ahead, choo-choo to back’er.

The Sedgwick was racin’, and she lost all hope.
Used up her steam on the big calliope.
She was hoppin’ right along, she was hoppin’ quick,
All the way from Stony Point to Popalopen Creek.

Oh, choo-choo to go ahead, choo-choo to slacker.
Packet boat, towboat, and a double-stacker.
New York to Albany, Rondout and Tivoli.
Choo-choo to go ahead, choo-choo to back’er.

​Oh, choo-choo to go ahead, choo-choo to slacker.
Packet boat, towboat, and a double-stacker.

The General Sedgwick was a steamboat built in Jersey City in 1862 and was one of the last to be equipped with a steam calliope. If you have heard the organ-like music on an old-fashioned steam-powered carousel, you have an idea of what a steam calliope sounds like, but you can also listen to one here. 

Few calliopes were installed on Hudson River steamboats for one primary reason - sometimes they took all the steam! So the lyric, "The Sedgwick was racin’, and she lost all hope. Used up her steam on the big calliope," is a reference to using too much steam to make music, leaving too little to propel the engines. Calliope music could be heard for miles and although it must have been quite loud aboard, the sound was nonetheless much-beloved by New Yorkers. 

In the 1880s, the Sedgwick was renamed the "Bay Queen" and by the early 1900s was lying in wreck at Ward's Point, Staten Island.

If you'd like to hear a steamboat with a steam calliope in person, you can visit Lake George and take a ride aboard the Minnehaha, or listen to this great video of the Minne playing her calliope in a duet with its echo!

​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!

"On the River" was a public television project of WTZA-TV, Hudson Valley Television, Kingston, New York. Running from 1986/87-1993, all episodes of this series are now held in the Marist College Archives as part of their Environmental History collection. This episode is shared with permission by the Hudson River Maritime Museum.

"Logbook 1" introduces the viewer to the Hudson River and the groups that were working to clean it up in 1987, including the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater, Riverkeeper, and more.

We'll be sharing many of the river-related "Logbooks" from "On the River" over the next several Saturdays, so stay tuned!

Did you ever watch "On the River" when it originally aired? What was your favorite episode? Share in the comments!

If you'd like to see more videos from the Hudson River Maritime Museum, visit our YouTube Channel. For more "On the River" episodes, check out our YouTube playlist just for this show.

​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!​