History Blog
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Today's Featured Artifact is this sign from the Newburgh Ferry terminal. Reading "Ferry Entrance - Pay Toll Here" with a red arrow in a red frame, this striking sign was designed to show the way for vehicles to drive onto the ferry. Although it is unclear when exactly the sign was created, you can see it in this photo of the Newburgh Ferry Terminal, c. 1957. The sign is on the toll booth in the lower right-hand corner. The Newburgh-Beacon Ferry departs in the background. If you look closely, you can see the words "New York State Bridge Authority" on the side of the ferry, and the name of the ferry on the pilot house - the Beacon. The Bridge Authority had purchased the ferry service in preparation for the construction of the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge and operated three car ferries - the Beacon, the Orange, and the Dutchess. Here is a zoomed in shot of the same photo, where you can see the sign more clearly. The Newburgh-Beacon ferry continued to operate until November 3, 1963, when the ferry service was ceased following the opening of the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge. The ferries themselves were scrapped over a series of years, and the Newburgh Ferry Terminal, which dated back to 1899, was demolished with Urban Renewal in the 1970s. If you'd like to see the "Ferry Entrance" sign in person, come and visit it at the museum! It is on display in the East Gallery.
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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. No. 72- Air Line Today we delve into the archives of Mr. Murdock’s steamboat collection to learn of the history of a ferryboat which ceased operating between Saugerties and Tivoli just 23 years ago. Many of our readers will well remember this vessel as she was somewhat of a curiosity as far as her type was concerned. The “Air Line” was a wooden hull vessel built at Philadelphia in 1857. She was 73 feet long, breadth of beam 20 feet, depth of hold six feet, five inches, gross tonnage 71, net tonnage 52, and she was powered with a vertical engine. Originally this odd ferryboat was constructed for the Air Line Railroad Company of Pennsylvania and was one of the first of the walking beam type ferryboats ever constructed in this country. Her great bar walking beam coupled with the fact that she had only one bow instead of the customary two which are the rule for ferryboats, labeled the “Air Line” as a distinct curiosity. The “Air Line” also holds a doubtful record of having made the trip from Philadelphia to Sandy Hook via the Atlantic Ocean; her owner refusing to pay toll charges to the New Jersey canals. A photograph in the Murdock collection shows the “Air Line” with her one bow, long narrow alleyways separated by the engine house down the center of the vessel. An octagon-shaped pilot house stands atop the engine house with the great bar walking beam directly behind and a high smokestack rising from the middle of the steamboat. Lifeboats were mounted on the roofs of the side cabins. John N. Snyder operated the “Air Line” when she plied the waters of the Hudson river between Saugerties and Tivoli, and because of her single bow, the vessel had to be turned completely after each crossing. For this reason the fare on the “Air Line” was the largest charged on any ferryboat on the Hudson river - a situation which would make a New Jersey commuter rise up in wrath if he had to pay the of 25 cents each time he crossed the river. The “Air Line” served the public between the two upriver towns for almost 58 years, continuing in service until 1915, when she was deemed worn out and sold to John Fisher, who took her to Rondout and dismantled her. AuthorGeorge W. Murdock, (b. 1853-d. 1940) was a veteran marine engineer who served on the steamboats "Utica", "Sunnyside", "City of Troy", and "Mary Powell". He also helped dismantle engines in scrapped steamboats in the winter months and later in his career worked as an engineer at the brickyards in Port Ewen. In 1883 he moved to Brooklyn, NY and operated several private yachts. He ended his career working in power houses in the outer boroughs of New York City. His mother Catherine Murdock was the keeper of the Rondout Lighthouse for 50 years. Editor's Note: This article is from the November 7, 1891 issue of Harper's Weekly. The tone of the article reflects the time period in which it was written. "Getting on Top of the Palisades by Jno. Gilmer Speed The largest elevators for carrying passengers in the world have just been completed on the banks of the Hudson, near Weehawken. The high table-land in New Jersey, opposite New York city, and between the Hudson River and the Hackensack, has up to this time not been used as generally for purposes of pleasure and residence as it should have been. This elevated plain, known as the Palisades, is at its beginning some one hundred and fifty feet above high tide, and is over a mile wide at the same point. It stretches north for many miles up the Hudson River, and naturally rises in elevation as it proceeds. This high land has been accessible only by steep grades for wagon roads, and by means of stairways which climbed laboriously up the steep cliff. The Hudson County Railway Company, which operates the elevated road at Hoboken and controls many of the street car lines in that neighborhood, has of late years been extending these lines, and increasing the facilities for getting on top of the Palisades, and from one part of this high plateau to another. The most recent addition to the plant of this company has been the building of huge elevators at Weehawken, where the ferry-boats from Forty-second Street and Jay Street, New York city, discharge their passengers, and where also the West Shore Railway starts north and west to Albany and Buffalo. These elevators are the largest ever constructed for passengers, and in planning them the engineers have adopted new devices to secure their safety against accidents. From the elevators, which rise just from the water’s edge, there is an immense viaduct or elevated railroad which runs some eight hundred feet back to the hill, where connections will be made with the various steam and horse cars which will run in one direction and another. In crossing the Hudson River from New York the stilt-like structure for the elevators and railroad cars looks frail and delicate, and suggest more a spider’s web than a very stable and solid structure capable of carrying immense weights and moving loads, and still having a surplus strength very much beyond the weight which could ever be placed upon it. At a distance one cannot fail to have the feeling that the structure is too light and insecure to ever do any very heavy or continuous work. This feeling is very much the same that one experiences in looking from a distance at the high curve on the New York Ninth Avenue elevated road above the Central Park. Arrived at Weehawken, however, and standing under the structure, the veriest novice in bridge-building cannot fail to be impressed with the strength and solidity of these steel piers and trusses. They do not look light now, but seem entirely sufficient to do the Titan’s work for which they were designed. What this work is may be gathered from the fact that in every hour six thousand persons can be taken each way, up and down the elevators and to and fro across the viaduct, which is 153 feet above the water. Elevators have never before been asked to do such work as this. The elevator tower has been made for three cars, each of which will hold one hundred and thirty-five persons. They run independent of each other, and all can be going either up or down at the same time, or variously, as desired. The doors are almost as wide as the cars, and the conductor with a simple device opens and closes both doors at once. On one side the passengers are discharged, and they enter from the other end; therefore, when there is a rush of travel, the cars will empty and fill at the same moment. The elevators are designed to have a speed of 400 feet a minute, but it is not proposed to run them faster than 200 feet a minute. At this rate each elevator will take up the 153 feet from the water’s edge to the viaduct 135 persons in 45 seconds, and it is estimated that in 30 seconds more the passengers can be discharged and a new load taken on. For the ordinary traffic there would be no need for such quick work or so large a capacity as this, but within a short time places of amusement and a race-track have been started near Weehawken. To these places and from them great and impatient crowds come and leave at the same hour, and it is necessary to handle a whole boat or train load at once. The power to run the elevators is hydraulic, the water being stored in compressed tanks under a pressure of 190 pounds per square inch by means of two compound condensing Worthington pumps of about 85-horse power each. Only two of these boilers, however, will be used at once, and the third will be held in reserve. The same firm which built the lifts in the Eiffel Tower has designed and constructed these enormous elevators. F.E. Brown, Jun., of the Otis Company, designed the whole elevator plant, the engineer in charge in both instances being Mr. Joseph R. Furman, of the same company. Mr. Furman is a young man, not yet twenty-seven, and has justified the responsibility intrusted to him most admirably. The most important feature in the construction of an elevator is the device for stopping it in case of an accident. In nearly all of the modern elevators these devices have been made to act automatically, so that nothing need depend upon the skill, courage, or presence of mind of the conductor. Were this not so, it would test the courage of any man to trust himself to the careless men in charge of the elevators in the large office buildings, the architects of which usually specify that the elevators shall have a speed of 700 feet per minute. It is true that none of them goes so fast as this, for the reason that it would be impossible for the conductors to stop accurately at the several floors to discharge or take on passengers. But it is pleasant to know that even though a conductor should lose his head, or the car break loose from its ropes, it would be stopped by the devices now in general use, and no one would be hurt. The testing of these devices is therefore most important, and the test applied by the builders to these huge cars which are to lift people to a level with the top of the Palisades was watched with interest by all concerned. The apparatus for testing consisted of a heavy timber trestle supporting the guide strips, between which a temporary cage loaded with 84,000 pounds of cast iron – equivalent to the weight of the cars and their load of people – was suspended on a trip lever, the support of which could be disengaged by pulling on a light line. The safety grips, which were the actual ones to be used in the permanent elevators, were placed under the cage, one on each side, in their proper position with relation to the guide strips. From each safety grip a light line, representing the governor ropes to be used on the elevators, was carried to and attached to the cross-head of the timber trestle. At the signal the lanyard was pulled and the cage with its load released. It dropped freely about two inches, when the safety engaged with the guide strips, and after a further slide of one and three-quarter inches came to rest without shock. Then another test was made with 2000 pounds more of iron added, and the result was substantially the same. Then came a third test, for the personal satisfaction of the engineers who had designed the safety device. With a load of 36,000 pounds they let the car fall ten inches before the safeties were applied, and on this occasion the car dropped only eighteen inches. This was eminently satisfactory to them, as had also been the other tests. The guide strips are of yellow pine, six inches by eight inches, built up in three pieces of two and two-thirds by six inches, strongly spiked together, and are secured to the latticed channel iron posts of the elevator tower by three-quarter-inch bolts spaced about fourteen-inch centres; the heads of these bolts are countersunk in the faces of the guide strips, so as to leave a smooth guiding surface. The safety grips consist of forgings with a rectangular notch surrounding the guide strip, the edges of the notch being beveled to form cutting edges. Below the main forging is bolted a plate with a similar notch, but having toothed edges, the whole swinging on a centre so placed that when the safety is in normal position the toothed and chisel edges are well clear of the guide strips, but when swung outward they engage and cut into the guide strip on its face and two sides. The test on the Eiffel Tower elevators loaded with 32,000 pounds was very gratifying to the French engineers. On the first elevator, when the ropes were cut, the car fell twelve feet. On the second car, when the safeties had been readjusted, and the same weight put on, the fall was only eight inches. The largest elevator in use in New York city is that in the tower of the Produce Exchange. This will carry fifty persons. This was also the capacity of the cars in the Eiffel Tower. It will be seen, therefore, that each of these new elevators to the top of the Palisades has a capacity more than two and half times greater than those which were popularly heretofore thought to be quite as large as lifts could be safely constructed. The Weehawken structure will be finished and thrown open about the middle of November. It will be interesting to see how easily large numbers of people can be taken up and down in this manner, for in the plans now under advisement for giving rapid transit to New York city by means of deep underground roads, the elevator for raising and lowering passengers is a very important feature of the scheme." Read about the current status of the elevator here. AuthorThank you to HRMM volunteer George Thompson, retired New York University reference librarian, for sharing these glimpses into early life in the Hudson Valley. And to the dedicated HRMM volunteers who transcribe these articles. 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 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 volunteer Carl Mayer. See more of Captain Benson’s articles here. This article was originally published November 4, 1973. Now that the early morning fogs of autumn and the duck hunting season are both with us, I recall an incident in my youth when I went duck hunting and got lost in the fog. One time in my late teens in October 1927, I went down to the flats at Sleightsburgh to hunt ducks. When I got down on the shore to get my duck boat it was about 3:30 a.m., still very dark and with a heavy autumn fog. I could hear ducks quacking out around the old Rondout lighthouse, which still stood along the south dike of Rondout Creek quite a ways in from the present Creek entrance. I started out over the flats planning to follow the shore and then follow the dryed up purple loose leaf weeds to the area near the old lighthouse station. However, on my way out somehow or other I got a little too smart for my own good and lost sight of the shore line. It seemed that no matter in which direction I thought I rowed, I couldn’t find the shore. Even the ducks stopped quacking. I kept on rowing, figuring I had to end up some place. In the distance, I could hear some steamboat blowing its whistle periodically with one long blast. I would stop and listen, thinking I would hear something on shoe. There wasn’t a sound through the murk except that steamboat whistle which kept getting closer and closer. Obviously, I had rowed out into the middle of the river and was either in or near the channel. Shortly, I began to hear the thump, thump, thump – thump, thump, thump of the steamboat’s paddle wheels. I realized it was one of the Albany night boats. I wasn’t sure as to just what I should do for I certainly didn’t relish the thought of getting run down by the Albany night liner in the middle of the fog enshrouded Hudson. So I fired my shotgun into the air so I would have an empty shell to blow like a whistle. When I fired my gun, I could hear the thumping of the paddle wheels slow right down. I suppose the pilots of the steamboat knew they were close to something, but didn’t know what. I kept blowing on my empty shell, and by the sound of the steamer’s whistle. I knew they were going by me. In a few moments I could feel the steamer’s waves going by me, so I knew the danger of getting run down was past. The fog was so thick I didn’t even see the vessel’s lights. I still didn’t know which way to go, so I just sat still and drifted with the tide. After a while I could hear another steamboat blowing her fog signal. By the sound of her whistle, I recognized her as the freight steamer Storm King of the Catskill Evening Line. Her whistle, however, was quite a ways off so I knew there was no danger. About five minutes later, her little swells passed by me and I could hear both boats getting further away as they went on up river. After daylight broke I was still drifting with the ebb tide. Finally I drifted into shore alongside the remains of the old towboat Norwich, which was being broken up at lower Port Ewen. That incident taught me a lesson – never try to go out in a fog without a compass. It can be a very lonely and unnerving experience. Some years later in October of the middle 1930’s, I was pilot on the tugboat Lion of the Cornell Steamboat Company and coming down the upper Hudson with a good sized tow. It set in foggy at New Baltimore and the fog continued heavy all the way to Athens. When opposite Coxsackie at about 8 a.m. the fog was particularly dense. All of a sudden I could hear people talking and a bell ringing out in the middle of the river. So I took the megaphone and asked what it was. The reply came back it was the Queen Mary. Now, lest you think the former giant Cunarder of that name had sailed right by New York and somehow got to the upper Hudson, there was also a small diesel ferryboat – not much bigger than the old Skillypot – that carried the rather improbable name of Queen Mary. At that time, she was running back and forth between Coxsackie and Newton Hook. After the ferryboat identified herself, the voice in the fog said they were anchored on the middle ground off Coxsackie. The voice further said. “Be careful. You are going up inside Coxsackie Island.” Now, if I were to be going up inside Coxsackie Island I would have to be going in the opposite direction I was headed. I certainly knew my compass course was south and my whistle echoes were all in good order. It wasn’t me who was mixed up, it was the ferryboat. Obviously, anchored in the thick fog they had swung around with the tide and didn’t realize in what direction they were heading. I continued on and eventually ran out of the fog off Athens. I often wondered who it could have been on that ferryboat who was so balled up in his directions he was 180 degrees off in the direction he thought he was headed. But, that’s the way one can easily find himself in heavy foggy weather. Intuition is no substitute for a good compass. 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!
Kingston-Rhinecliff ferries “Transport” and “Kingston” in their slips along the Rondout in the 1930s. The steam ferry “Transport” had been running on the route since 1881 while the “Kingston” a more modern diesel ferry began operating locally in 1930. It was unusual for the ferry company to own and operate more than one boat on the route. The historic ferry slip location is along the Rondout Creek Promenade at the eastern edge of the Hudson River Maritime Museum campus. In 1942, so few automobiles were using the ferry, due to World War II gas rationing, the privately owned ferry company discontinued operation. In 1946 the New York State Bridge Authority (NYSBA) was charged by the New York State Legislature with the operation of the ferry. NYSBA purchased the necessary equipment and the ferry crossings started up again in May 1946. The George Clinton ran for the nine years of planning and construction of the Kingston-Rhinecliff Bridge. The ferry was discontinued with the 1957 opening of the Kingston-Rhinecliff Bridge. 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!
Summer visitors at Kingston Point Park wait for a Hudson River Day Line steamer to come into port and pick them up for their journey home. The train in the background is part of the Ulster & Delaware Railroad, and is back from the Catskills, c. 1905. The U&D Railroad served as the Gateway to the Catskills transporting visitors from the Hudson River waterfront to summer resorts in the cooler Catskill Mountains. Trolley terminal at Kingston Point Park, ca. 1906. Designed by noted architect, Downing Vaux, Kingston Point Park opened in 1897. The park was financed by S.D. Coykendall, son-in-law of founder Thomas Cornell and second president of the Cornell Steamboat Company. By the 1890s the Cornell Company transportation holdings included rail as well as boats. The Ulster & Delaware Railroad extended from Kingston Point Park west into the Catskills. The Kingston City trolley system ran throughout the city and out to Kingston Point. Both rail systems were owned by the Cornell company. The park was built to provide a landing for the Hudson River Day Line and its thousands of passengers who could spend a day there or take the Ulster & Delaware Railroad from the park up to the Catskills. Before the steamboat landing at Kingston Point was built, large steamers docked across the Hudson River at Rhinecliff. Passengers took the Kingston-Rhinecliff ferry, also controlled at the time by the Cornell Steamboat Company, to reach Kingston. 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 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 volunteer Carl Mayer. See more of Captain Benson’s articles here. This article was originally published August 18, 1974. During the 1920's, every Sunday from late May until early September, the steamer “Homer Ramsdell" of the Central Hudson Line offered an excursion from Kingston to New York. Leaving Rondout at 6:30 a.m., she would make landings at Poughkeepsie and Newburgh and arrive in New York at her pier at the foot of Franklin Street at 1 p.m. Returning, she would leave New York at 4:30 p.m. and get back to Kingston at 11 p.m. In those days of long ago, the Sunday excursions on the “Homer Ramsdell” were very popular with residents of the mid-Hudson valley and many Kingston families made this day long sail on the Hudson an annual event. In July of 1924, as a boy of 15, my father took me on one of these excursions. To a boy who thought the greatest thing in the world was a steamboat, the excursion was a memorable experience. I made a note of every steamer we passed and in retrospect it is difficult to believe there were once so many steamboats in operation on the Hudson. After leaving Rondout on that sunny Sunday morning a half a century ago, the first steamer we met was the “Poughkeepsie” of the Central Hudson Line, off Staatsburgh. She was coming up on her way to Kingston, having left New York the night before. Landing at Poughkeepsie, I saw the ferryboat “Gove Winthrop” going into her Poughkeepsie slip and her running mate “Rinckerhoff" [Brinckerhoff?] landing at Highland. After we left Poughkeepsie, we saw very few boats as it was too early in the morning. At Newburgh, the old ferryboat "City of Newburgh” was just coming over from Beacon and as we passed Cornwall we overtook the "Perseverance” of the Cornell Steamboat Company going down with the down tow of about forty loaded scows and barges. The Cornell tugs “Victoria” and ‘‘Hercules” were helping on the tow. When passing West Point, the ferry “Garrison” was going over the river to her namesake landing. Down off Grassy Point, the graceful “Hendrick Hudson” of the Day Line went by on her way to Albany and looked as if she were almost loaded to her passenger capacity of 5,500. Off Croton Point, the brand new “Alexander Hamilton” went past on her way to Kingston Point — and just below Hook Mountain the “DeWitt Clinton” was going up river bound for Poughkeepsie. Not too far behind her was the “Albany,” probably going to Indian Point. In slightly over an hour we had passed four Day Liners. Then came the Bear Mountain steamer “Clermont.” By that time we were off Tarrytown. Looking down the river on that clear day, one could see all the way down to New York harbor and could see everywhere all kinds of passenger steamboats and yachts coming up the river. I was eagerly peering ahead to see if I could find my favorite, the “Benjamin B. Odell.” Sure enough, there she was coming up river with a big bone in her teeth, flags flying and black smoke pouring out of her big black smokestack. The "Odell" was overtaking the “Rensselaer” of the Albany Night Line — and had just passed the propellor “Ossining” and the sidewheeler ‘‘Sirius" of the Iron Steamboat Company. As she sped by the “Ramsdell", she blew one long blast salute on her whistle. The white steam from her whistle ascending skyward and the big red house flag of the Central Hudson Line with the white letters “C.H.,” briskly flapping in the breeze from the flag staff in back of her pilot house, made a very impressive scene. After we had passed this cluster of steamboats, along came the “Benjamin Franklin” of the Yonkers Line, closely followed by the Day Liner “Robert Fulton" on her way to Newburgh. We then passed the ‘‘Mandalay" headed up river. With her ferry boat-like bow, she was a nice looking steamer. Below Hastings, a tow in charge of the Cornell tugboats “Geo. W. Washburn” and “Senator Rice" was on its way up river. The “Washburn” blew a long salute to the "Ramsdell." Down off Yonkers, the speedy “Monmouth” of the Jersey Central Railroad and the Central Hudson steamer “Newburgh” were coming up, loaded with passengers for a day's outing up the river. When we landed at 129th Street, I couldn't help but wonder how many people had boarded boats at that pier that morning. It must have been several thousand. On the south side of the pier lay the "Cetus" of the Iron Steamboat Company taking on passengers for Coney Island. Going down through the harbor I saw the "Leviathan” of the U.S. Lines, then called the largest liner in the world, lying at her pier. With her three big red, white and blue smokestacks, it was the first time I had ever seen her. Christopher Street, the ‘‘Robert A. Snyder" of the Saugerties Evening Line was lying on the south side. Going up river was the little sidewheeler ‘‘Sea Bird" with her large hog frame and walking beam. The ‘‘Sandy Hook" was just leaving her pier at Houston Street on her way to Atlantic Highlands and the “Mary Patten" was on her way to Gansevoort Street, coming back from Long Branch. By that time it was nearly 1 p.m. and we were landing at the Franklin Street pier. We left New York on our return trip promptly at 4:30 p.m. For the next two and a half hours we passed a steady parade of steamboats, only this time they were all returning to New York. We passed again all of the steamers we had in the morning except the "Hendrick Hudson" which had gone on to Albany. In her stead, we passed the big “Washington Irving" which that day was the down Day Liner from Albany. The down Cornell tow in charge of the "Perserverance" had gotten all the way down to Hook Mountain. As we passed very close I remember how loud her whistle sounded when she blew a passing salute. When we were at Iona Island, I could see the "Onteora,” another favorite of mine, just pulling away from Bear Mountain. That was the first I had seen her in two years as she had gone up river after we had landed at New York. My older brother, Algot, had been the mate of the “Onteora" and in March of the year before he died of pneumonia. When my father saw the “Onteora" ahead, I remember he got up and without saying a word walked to the other side of the "Ramsdell." I suppose he could not bear to see her got [go?] by knowing my brother was no longer aboard. As the "Onteora" went by she was just straightening out on her course down river with a heavy port list after completing her turn around. We passed so close I could make out Ben Hoff, her captain, at the wheel in the pilot house. We again passed the “Geo. W. Washburn” and the "Senator Rice" with the up Cornell tow off Cons Hook. After we left Newburgh we passed the steamer ‘‘Ida" of the Saugerties Evening Line on her way to New York and, off Danskammer Point, the freighter "Storm King" of the Catskill Evening Line also bound south. After that, as far as I know, we didn’t pass anything. I remember dozing off in an easy chair on the saloon deck and getting off at Rondout about 11 p.m, and going home to bed. For a boy, it had been a day to remember. 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!
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 volunteer Carl Mayer. See more of Captain Benson’s articles here. This article was originally published June 15, 1975. “Naw, we just didn’t want the people on shore to think we were showing you the way to Poughkeepsie.” One day back in 1927, the Poughkeepsie and Highland ferryboat “Brinckerhoff” has been up at the Hiltebrant shipyard at Connelly for minor repairs. When she was ready to go back down river it was about 3 p.m. At the same time, the "Jacob H. Tremper” of the Central Hudson Steamboat Company’s Albany to Newburgh service was unloading freight at her Rondout Creek dock on Ferry Street. The “Brinckerhoff" came down just as the "Tremper" finished unloading her freight and was getting ready to wind around. The ferryboat passed by and fell in behind the Rhinecliff ferry "Transport" on her way out to the river. After the "Tremper" completed her turn around and was ready to go, the “Brinckerhoff” was down off the Cornell coal pocket. Captain Baker of the ferryboat, looking back, thought it would be a good day to have some fun with the old "Tremper” and her captain Jack Dearstyne. Captains Baker and Dearstyne had known each other for years and were good friends of long standing. When the “Brinckerhoff” was clear of the mouth of the creek, Captain Baker said to his engineer, “I’m going to give the “Tremper" a good run and give her our black smoke." He even laid to out in the river for a few minutes to let the "Tremper" get a little ahead. The "Brinckerhoff" always had the reputation of being a fast sidewheel ferryboat and Captain Baker figured it would be a pushover to get by the "Tremper," then in her final years on the river. Dearstyne on the "Tremper," however, when he was coming out of the creek could see what was afoot on the "Brinckerhoff." He called to his engineer, Fred Van Loan, and told him what he thought Captain Baker was scheming. Chief Van Loan said, “Cap, we are in luck because I’ve got two good firemen on watch. I haven't opened up this old engine in 20 years, but I'll do it now and see what the old girl can take." He then told his firemen to shovel in the soft coal and "keep her hot.” By the time the "Tremper" cut the south dike of the creek and entered the river, Chief Van Loan had her throttle wide open. Her ancient engine was making 22 revolutions a minute and black smoke was belching out of her tall smoke stack. An ebb tide was running against a strong south wind, making the river very choppy with white caps. The “Brinckerhoff” had purposely let the "Tremper” get ahead, Captain Baker thinking it would be more fun to overtake and pass her. But as hard as the "Brinckerhoff" tried she could not shorten the distance. When the two were passing Esopus Island, the distance between them was still the same. Every once in a while Chief Van Loan would run out in the "Tremper’s" after gangway to take a look and see if the ferry was gaining. Then back to oil and grease the engine and see that nothing was running hot. Turning up as fast as she was, the water in the "Tremper’s" wheel houses was leaking out all over, even on the top where they had opened the top hatch to let some splash out. Down off "Riverby," John Burroughs’ home at West Park, Captain Dearstyne said to his chief, "Let’s let Baker get abreast of us and we'll go through the Elbow neck and neck.” As the ‘'Tremper" slowed down, Captain Baker on the "Brinckerhoff" thought maybe she had to slow for some reason, came very close aboard, and hollered over, “Is something wrong Jack?” Captain Dearstyne took the megaphone and hollered back, "Naw, we just didn’t want the people on shore to think we were showing you the way to Poughkeepsie." Both laughed. Boatmen were like that. As soon as the “Brinckerhoff” was abreast, the "Tremper" was opened up again and down through the Elbow past President Roosevelt’s mansion they sped. The "Tremper" couldn’t gain either and neck and neck they went from the Elbow to the Columbia boathouse. The "Tremper" was on the west side of the river and since both were to land at Highland, the ferryboat had to slow down and let the "Tremper" make her landing first. On the "Brinkerhoff" they called it respect for old age. The "Tremper” only lasted for one season more. In 1929 she was sold for scrap and broken up at Newburgh. Reclaimed land was placed over her old bones and not a trace of her is left. At first, it was thought the “Brinckerhoff" would have a better fate. After the Poughkeepsie-Highland ferry gave up in late 1941, the “Brinckerhoff” went to Bridgeport where she ran to a pleasure park for nine years more. Then she came back to Hiltebrants at Connelly for awhile before being towed to Mystic Seaport. Her upkeep, however, was too much and the Seaport finally turned their backs on her. She was acquired by someone who had plans for a restaurant and she was beached at Pawcatuck, opposite Westerly, R.I. The town fathers didn’t look kindly upon her and finally, in the early 1960's, she was purposely burned and her remaining metal scrapped. So from the Hudson River they both knew so well, a fine steamboat and ferryboat have both gone, never to return. 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!
In working in the archives today with volunteer G.M. Mastropaolo, we discovered this delightful timetable in the Donald C. Ringwald collection. Outlining travel times and locations for steamboats, steam yachts, ferries, stages/stagecoaches, and railroads in Rondout, Kingston, "and vicinity." Among the many time tables is that of the ferry boat Transport. To learn more about the Transport, check out our past blog post about its history and use. Of particular interest to the collections staff and volunteers at the museum was this time table for the steamboat Mary Powell, the star of our 2020 exhibit, "Mary Powell: Queen of the Hudson," opening April 25, 2020. "Handy Book of the Catskill Mountains" was designed for those traveling to the Kingston area for access to the Catskill Mountains and mountain houses. Measuring just 4 by 2.5 inches, this tiny little handbook would fit perfectly in a pocket or lady's reticule. The Hudson River Maritime Museum is pleased to make this handbook available to the public. If you would like to view the entire book, chock full of both traveler's information and period advertisements, click the button below to download a PDF. If you enjoyed this blog post and would like to support the work of the Hudson River Maritime Museum, please make a donation or become a member today!
March, 2020 is March Membership Madness here at the museum. If you join in the month of March, you can receive 20% off (for 2020) any membership level. Learn more. 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. Transport 1881 Hull built of iron by Cramp at Philadelphia, PA. Length of 115 ft., breadth of hull 20 ft., 5 in. depth 9 ft. 5 in, gross tonnage 318, net tons 226. Engine constructed by Harlan and Hollingsworth at Wilmington, Del., Vertical beam engine. Diameter of cylinder 32 inches by 9 feet stroke. The Transport was launched in December 1874 built for the Windmill Island Ferry Company to operate between Philadelphia and Reading wharves and Windmill Island carrying freight cars for a time was laid up. In the early part of the year 1881, the Transport was purchased by Thomas Cornell of Rondout; after making several alterations, was put on the route between Rondout and Rhinecliff on September first 1881. With Captain Benjamin Wells of Port Ewen in charge, William Van Steenburgh Pilot, William Barber engineer, and Isaac Schultz fireman. The Transport was the third ferryboat to operate on the Rondout and Rhinecliff route taking the place of the Ferryboat Lark that had been on the route since the spring of 1860, with Captain B.F. Schultz, John Landers, Pilot; William Morrow, engineer, and Isaac Schultz, fireman. The Lark took the place of the Ferryboat Rhine which was the first steam Ferryboat to operate across the Hudson River at this point of the river in the 1840s. When the Rhine was first put on the Hudson she took the place of a horse boat that was propelled by horses, ran from what was called the Sleight Dock across the river to Kingston Point. That was before the Hudson River Railroad was built. After the railroad was completed in 1852, there was a station built at Rhinecliff, the Rhine ran from Rhinecliff to Kingston Point until the late 1850s, then changed her route to Rondout, where it has run to the present time excepting one year 1876 when it ran from Ponckhockie. When the Transport was put on the route the Lark was sold to the Port Richmond and Bergen Point Ferry Company to ply across the Kill von Kull, Staten Island. The Lark was renamed the Arthur Kills where she ran for several years. Last trip crew: Capt. Nelson Sleight, Pilot Ross Saulpaugh, Silas Wells, chief engineer. AuthorGeorge W. Murdock, (b. 1853-d. 1940) was a veteran marine engineer who served on the steamboats "Utica", "Sunnyside", "City of Troy", and "Mary Powell". He also helped dismantle engines in scrapped steamboats in the winter months and later in his career worked as an engineer at the brickyards in Port Ewen. In 1883 he moved to Brooklyn, NY and operated several private yachts. He ended his career working in power houses in the outer boroughs of New York City. His mother Catherine Murdock was the keeper of the Rondout Lighthouse for 50 years. |
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