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. For more of Murdock's articles, see the "Steamboat Biographies" category.

Known by rivermen as a “hard luck steamboat,” the “Saratoga” plied the waters of the Hudson river for 33 years, and during that time was responsible for some loss of life as well as doing a great deal of damage to the vessel itself. She played a foremost part in the coincidences which labeled steamboats whose names began with the letter “S” as “hard luck vessels.”

John Englis and Son of Greenpoint, N.Y., built the wooden hull of the “Saratoga” in 1877. Her keel was 285 feet long with an overall measurement of 300 feet, the breadth of her hull was 56 feet (over the guards she was 70 feet), and she was listed for 1,438 gross tons and 1,281 net tons. Her vertical beam engine came from the “Sunnyside” and was a product of Secor Iron Works of New York city- built in 1866. The cylinder diameter measured 56 inches with a 12 foot stroke. She had two steel return tubular boilers, and her wheels were 32 feet in diameter with 26 buckets to each wheel with a dip of 30 inches.

The "Saratoga" and the "City of Troy" ran in line between New York and Troy, forming the Citizen’s Line; the “Saratoga” having replaced the steamboat “Neversink” which had seen service on this route for a year, having replaced the “Thomas Powell” which was discarded in 1876. The month of June, 1877 makes the first trip of the “Saratoga” to Troy, sailing under the command of Captain Thomas Abrams, with Abram Parsell as chief engineer [editor's note - Abram Parsell was a relative of Rondout Lighthouse keeper Catherine Murdock]. She boasted sleeping accommodations for 550 people, a large freight carrying capacity, and a speed of 16 miles per hour. She was built at a cost of $175,000.

​The first accident recorded in the history of the “Saratoga” occurred on September 29, 1886. She left Troy on Monday evening, bound for New York with 230 passengers and 80 tons of freight aboard. About 2 o’clock in the morning, when the “Saratoga” was a mile south of Tivoli, she suddenly came in contact with something with such force that her joiner work was cracked and the vessel halted. It developed that her pilot had miscalculated his whereabouts and had run at full speed on the flats between Little Island and the tracks of the Hudson River railroad. Soundings showed that the steamboat was embedded in the mud in only five feet of water- and it was not until October 11, 1886 that she was floated again.

On March 26, 1897, the “Saratoga” left her wharf at Troy for New York at 7:30 o’clock. Upon turning around she refused to obey her rudder, with the result that she smashed into the Congress street bridge at Troy. The river was high and the current swift, and she was thrown against the pier on her starboard side, carrying away much of her upper wood-work. Distress signals were immediately displayed which brought the steamer “Belle Horton” and a tugboat to her aid, and she was towed to the dock where she was later repaired.

July 29, 1897, the “Saratoga,” while steaming up the river bound for Troy, collided with a large steam yacht, the “Hermonie.” She almost went to the bottom on this occasion- the accident occurring near Stony Point. The “Hermonie” struck the “Saratoga” on the starboard side, destroying her barroom, injuring one passenger and tossing many sleeping passengers from their bunks.

​​Other accidents are recorded in which the “Saratoga” was a factor, but she continued on the New York-Troy line until sunk in a collision with the steamboat “Adirondack” on Friday, October 12, 1906, off Crugers Island, 60 miles below Troy. She was carrying a large number of passengers when this accident occurred, and was running in a light fog. Two lives were lost and several were injured. Clarence Sherman, an oiler on the Saratoga, was crushed to death, and George E. Horton, a freight clerk on the “Adirondack,” was knock overboard and drowned. The “Saratoga” was struck on the port side, being torn up from a point just aft of the wheelhouse almost to the stern. The port boiler was torn from the guards and dropped overboard. The “City of Troy” came along at this time and took off the passengers before the “Saratoga” went to the bottom.

​The “Saratoga” was raised, repaired, and sold, and was then taken to the Jamestown Exhibition (1907), where she was used as a hotel during the summer. The “City of Troy” burned in 1907 and her boilers were installed on the “Saratoga” which was then placed on the route between New York and Albany (the summer of 1908), as an opposition vessel in line with the steamboat “Frank Jones” and running under the banner of the Manhattan Navigation Line. The “Saratoga” plowed the waters of the Hudson river until the fall of 1910 when she was deemed worn out and dismantled. Her hull was purchased by Charles Bishop of Rondout, in 1911, and taken to Port Ewen and broken up.

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

On June 15, 1904 occurred one of the worst steamboat disasters of all time.  On that sunny June morning, he New York harbor excursion steamer “General Slocum” caught fire and burned in the East River with a resulting loss of life of 1,021 people. 

The “General Slocum” was built in 1891 at Brooklyn to run between New York City and Rockaway Beach.  She later ran as an excursion steamer on the Hudson River and Long Island sound, and — at the time — was the largest excursion steamboat out of New York.  From time to time, she was chartered by local Ulster County groups and carried excursions out of Rondout Creek. 

On the day of the disaster, the “General Slocum” had been chartered by the Sunday School and members of the congregation of St. Mark’s German Lutheran Church of New York for an excursion to Locust Grove on Long Island.  The vessel left a pier at the foot of East Third Street, Manhattan, shortly before 10 a.m. and proceeded up the East River.

A Cabin Ablaze
Off 97th Street, some of the deckhands on the lower deck observed wisps of smoke coming from the forward part of the vessel.  Instead of notifying the captain, they tried to find the cause, apparently thinking they could put out the fire if there was one.  They went below and found a cabin ablaze.  Coming back on deck, they got the mate who immediately sent word to the captain and started to fight the fire.  By this time the fire was beginning to gain momentum and spread. 

The East River, at the point where the fire was discovered, is deep and filled with treacherous tidal currents.  The captain, William H. Van Schaick, thought his best course would be to reach shallow water and ordered the pilot to head at full speed for North Brother Island, approximately a mile ahead. 

The fire, unfortunately, spread rapidly, fanned by a breeze blowing from the north and the steamer’s  speed through the water.  Many passengers became panic stricken as everyone tried to crowd to the rear of the vessel away from the burning forward part of the steamboat.  To add to the dire chain of events surrounding the tragedy, the steamer — on reaching North Brother Island — grounded forward.   Her stern, however, where all the passengers were crowded, was still in water 30 feet deep.  Many passengers, thinking the entire steamer was in shallow water, jumped overboard and were drowned.
​
Due to the huge loss of life, the disaster naturally caused a great public furor and led to several investigations.  There was strong criticism of the adequacy of the life saving and fire fighting equipment aboard the steamboat.  As a result of the investigations, Captain Van Schaick was sentenced to prison.  Almost all boatmen felt the captain was unjustly made a scapegoat for the resulting tragedy, instead of the owners of the steamer or the effectiveness of the life saving and fire fighting equipment then required — and the inspections of it by government inspectors.

Suffered Injuries
Captain Van Schaick was severely burned as a result of the fire and his eyesight was permanently damaged by the intense heat of the flames as he vainly sought to direct efforts to combat the holocaust. 

When he was sentenced to prison, he was sent to Sing Sing at Ossining.  At that time, the State was building what is now Bear Mountain Park operated by the Palisades Interstate Park Commission.  Some of the inmates of Sing Sing were used for cutting down trees, and other work.  

Al Walker, who later was a captain of Cornell tugboats, was then captain of a little steamboat used to carry prisoners back and forth between Sing Sing and the new park.  Captain Van Schaick was one of the prisoners who was sent to the park to do what he could.  Al told me he would always take Captain Van Schaick into the pilot house and let him steer or do whatever he wanted to do as, like all other steamboatmen of that day, he felt Captain Van should never have gone to prison. 

Captain Van Schaick eventually was pardoned by President Taft and later died at the Masonic Home at Utica in 1924.  Several members of his family were also steamboatmen.  A brother was a captain of steamboats of the Iron Steamboat Company, the steamboat line that ran from New York to Coney Island until 1932.  Captain Arthur Van Schaick, who I believe was a nephew of the “General Slocum’s" captain, was a pilot and later captain of the "Chauncey M. Depew’’ of the Hudson River Day Line. 
​
On the ‘Sirius’
Before Captain Van Schaick became captain of the "General Slocum," he had been captain of the steamer “Sirius” of the Iron Steamboat Company.  Jack Dearstyne, Sr., who was later captain of a number of Hudson River steamboats, was at that time first mate of the ‘‘Sirius."
Captain Dearstyne later told me that Captain Van Schaick always used to say his one wish was to be captain of New York’s largest excursion steamer.  Well, he got his wish and, as it turned out, to his great regret.

Learn more at the June 8, 2022 lecture by author Edward T. O'Donnell "The 1904 General Slocum Disaster: New York's Deadliest Day before 9/11"

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

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

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

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

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

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. For more of Murdock's articles, see the "Steamboat Biographies" category

The “Chauncey Vibbard” was a wooden hull steamer built by Lawrence and Foulkes of Brooklyn for dayline service running between New York and Albany. When constructed in 1864, her original length was 265 feet, but after two seasons on the river she was hauled out of the river, cut in two, and lengthened 16 feet which gave her a hull span of 281 feet. At this time her 55-inch cylinder was replaced with a 64 ½ inch cylinder.

​Destined to become one of the famous river boats, the “Chauncey Vibbard” began her passenger-carrying career on June 20, 1864, and her appearance was the cause of a great deal of comment concerning her graceful proportions and beauty of structure. While running at high speed she portrayed a dignity and grace which was almost unseen up to that period, and scarcely a wave broke from her stem to the paddlewheels. She was for years the pride of the late Commodore Van Santvoord who spared neither time nor money in his efforts to make the “Chauncey Vibbard” second to none of the steamboats plying the waters of the Hudson. In 1864 she made the run from New York to Albany in 6 hours and 21 minutes- fast time for a steamboat of that period.

In 1880 the “Chauncey Vibbard” was rebuilt. Her two boilers located on the guards were removed and three new boilers were placed in the hold of the vessel with three smokestacks going up from the center of the vessel- an operation which altered the appearance of the vessel considerably. Thus she ran for seven years, then giving way to the steamer “New York.”

Following her retirement from regular service, the “Chauncey Vibbard” was held in reserve as the “Daniel Drew” had been, but her territory was soon shifted and her last years were spent away from the Hudson river. In 1895 she was sold, going to the Delaware river for service between Philadelphia and Lincoln Park, being used both on regular runs and for excursions. During the peace jubilee in 1899 directly following the Spanish-American War, she joined the naval parade - and this was the beginning of the end for the once-proud vessel. Crowded with passengers celebrating the return of peace, the “Chauncey Vibbard” began leaking and was run on a sand bar to prevent disaster. She was later towed to Cramer’s Hill and there dismantled as late as 1902 where the wreck of her hull remained for many years.

​One noteworthy fact in the career of the “Chauncey Vibbard” was her clean slate- no disaster or accident until her last trip to the sand bar. During her quarter-century activity on the Hudson river she carried millions of travelers from all over the world who viewed with delight the wonderful scenery of the highlands of the Hudson from the deck of one of the finest steamboats ever to ply the waters of the Hudson river- the “Chauncey Vibbard.”

​​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!​

(p. 40)   The North America is splendidly fitted up and furnished; the cabinet work very handsome; the whole establishment of kitchen servants, waiters, and cooks, all people of colour, on a great scale.  *** 

(p. 41)   We had breakfast and dinner in the steam-boat.  The stewardess observing, that we were foreigners, gave notice to my wife some time previous to the (p. 42) breakfast-bell at eight, and dinner-bell at two, so that we might have it in our power to go to the cabin, and secure good places at table before the great stream of passengers left the deck.  Both meals were good, and very liberal in point of quantity.  The breakfast consisted of the same article that had been daily set before us at the city hotel, with a large supply of omelettes in addition.  The equipage and whole style of the thing good.  The people seemed universally to eat more animal food than the British are accustomed to, even at such a breakfast as this, and to eat quickly.
                The dinner consisted of two courses, 1. of fish, including very large lobsters, roast-meat, especially roast-beef, beef-steaks, and fowls of various kinds, roasted and boiled, potatoes and vegetables of various kinds; 2. which is here called the dessert, of pies, puddings, and cheese.

                Pitchers of water and small bottles of brandy were on all parts of the table; very little brandy was used at that part of the table where we sat.  A glass tumbler was put down for each person; but no wine-glasses, and no wine drank.  Wine and spirits of all sorts, and malt liquors, and lemonade, and ice for all purposes, may be had at the bar, kept in one of the cabins.  There is a separate charge for every thing procured there; but no separate charge for the brandy put down on the dinner-table, which may be used at pleasure.  The waiters will, if desired, bring any liquor previously ordered, and paid for to them, to the dining-table.

p. 43      Dinner was finished, and most people again on deck in less than twenty minutes.  They seemed to me to eat more at breakfast than at dinner.  I soon afterwards looked into the dining-room, and found that there was not a single straggler remaining at his bottle.  Many people, however, were going into and out of the room, where the bar is railed off, and where the bar-keeper was giving out liquor.
              The men of colour who waited at table were clean-looking, clever, and active, -- evidently picked men in point of appearance.

              We had observed a very handsome woman of colour, as well dressed, and as like a female of education, as any of those on board, on deck.  My wife, who had some conversation with her, asked her, when she found that she had not dined with us, why she had not been in the cabin?  She replied very modestly, that the people of this country did not eat with the people of colour.  The manners and appearance of this lady were very interesting, and would have distinguished her anywhere.
                James Stuart.  Three Years in North America.   Vol. 1.   Edinburgh, 1833.

Happy New Year! And what a year it has been. To ring in 2022, we thought we'd celebrate with an old tradition involving Hudson River steamboats.

For years, Pratt Institute in New York City celebrated New Year's Eve by taking a collection of steam whistles, including many from historic Hudson River steamboats, hooking them up to the steam plant that heats the campus, and blowing them all at midnight. Check out the cacophony in the video below, from the 2012 celebration.

The whistles were from the collection of steam engineer and steam historian Conrad Milster, who worked for decades as the steam plant engineer for Pratt. Unfortunately, the celebrations came to a halt in 2015, but Milster continues to work in Pratt's steam plant, which is one of the oldest in the world. 

Milster worked in the engine rooms of Hudson River Day Line boats as a young man, and has worked continuously at Pratt since 1958, although in recent years there have been efforts (unsuccessful) to force him into retirement. To learn more about Conrad Milster, his work at Pratt, and his extensive collections, check out the short documentary below (2019, Long Island Traditions). 

To learn more about Milster's drive to collect recorded sounds, including Hudson River steamboat whistle and engine sounds, check out this audio interview with Sound & Story:

And whether you're ringing in the new year with the Times Square ball drop, attending a party, or going to bed early, play a steam whistle for us and we'll see you in 2022!

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

Editor’s Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article 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 December 17, 1973.

St. Nick Paintings
The steamboat “Santa Claus” had been built in the early 1840's and first ran as a day steamer between New York and Albany. In 1847 the steamboat was used in a service between Piermont and New York, and then briefly returned to her old Albany run before starting her service from Wilbur in 1848. An unusual decorative feature of the steamboat were paintings of St. Nick himself going down a brick chimney with a bag full of all kinds of toys of the era which appeared on her paddle wheel boxes.

During the early 1850's, the local landing of the “Santa Claus" was shifted from Wilbur to the fast growing and lusty village of Rondout. Operated by Thomas Cornell and commanded by David Abbey, Jr., she now ran as a night boat on opposite nights to the steamer “North America,” commanded by Jacob H. Tremper. The “Santa Claus" would leave Rondout for New York on Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights at 5 p.m. and return the following nights. 
​
During the latter part of the 1850 decade, Thomas Cornell withdrew the "Santa Claus” from the passenger trade, removed the passenger accommodations and converted the steamer to a towboat. During the winter of 1868-69, she was thoroughly rebuilt at South Brooklyn. When she came out in the spring of 1669, the name “Santa Claus" disappeared and on her name boards instead appeared the name “A. B. Valentine," in honor of the man who was the New York agent and pay master for the prospering Cornell Steamboat Company.

Down River Tows
As the "A. B. Valentine,” the sidewheel towboat was first used to pull the down river tow between Rondout and New York. But as some of the older boatmen told me their father had told them, she was not quite powerful enough for the large tows that were coming out of New York — sometimes with over a hundred canal boats and barges. Cornell then put more powerful side wheelers on the lower river and shifted the “A. B. Valentine" to towing between Rondout and Albany. 

On the upper river the “Valentine" ran opposite one of the best known towboats of them all, the old faithful sidewheeler “Norwich." I have been told their helper tugboats were the sister tugs “Coe F. Young” and “Thomas Dickson," the “Young” working mostly with the “Norwich” and the “Dickson" with the “A. B. [Valentine."]

For many years a man lived in Sleightsburgh by the name of Fred Cogswell. He had been the pilot on the “A. B. Valentine" in her latter years. At the time the “Valentine” was withdrawn from service, Mr. Cogswell was a man well along in years and I am told S. D. Coykendall pensioned him off on a pension of $7 a month. He passed away in the early 1920's well into his nineties. 

At the turn of the century, the “A. B. Valentine" had outlived her usefulness and was layed up at Sleightsburgh at what later became known as the Sunflower dock. In the late fall of 1901 she was sold for scrapping. By a quirk of fate, on the day she was sold, the man for whom she was named, A. B. Valentine, died after serving as the New York superintendent of the Cornell Steamboat Company for half a century. 

The steamer left Rondout on Dec. 17, 1901 for Perth Amboy, N.J .where the steamboat built as the “Santa Claus” was finally broken up. 
​
Although there are a number of photographs of the steamboat as the "‘A. B. Valentine,” I know of no photos of her as the “Santa Claus,“ probably because during service under her original name photography was in its infancy. However, during the early 1930's there was a saloon on Abeel Street, just off Broadway, that had a lithograph of the "‘Santa Claus.” It was a broadside view with her Rondout to New York schedule imprinted on the sides. To my knowledge, this was the only likeness of the old steamer as the “Santa Claus." Now, this too, has long since disappeared.

If you'd like to learn more about the steamboat "Santa Claus," check out this extensive Wikipedia article. 

​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 26, 1972.

The lives of some steamboats are like people. They venture far from the land of their youth, never to return. This was the case with the steamboat “City of Kingston" which left the Hudson River to go all the way to the Pacific coast. 

The “City of Kingston” opened the season of 1889, as she had in her former years of service on the Hudson River, with a run up-river to Rondout shortly after the river was clear of ice. In 1889 this became possible on March 19. As events turned out, it was to be the start of her last season on the Rondout to New York run. 

During the summer of 1889, Captain D. B. Jackson, operator of the Puget Sound and Alaska Steamship Company, came east looking for a “propeller” suitable for his service. Apparently, the “City of Kingston” caught his eye and he made an offer to the Cornell Steamboat Company for her. 

The Price Was Right
Cornell, it would appear, originally had every intention of operating the “City of Kingston" for many years more on her original route — and had made plans for a number of alterations to the steamer, including a new glass-enclosed dining room aft on the top deck. However, in those days of unfettered free enterprise, the Cornell Steamboat Company was not adverse to selling anything — if the price was right. The price apparently was right for at the end of September it was announced the “City of Kingston” had been sold for service on Puget Sound. 

The “City of Kingston", always a great favorite with Kingstonians, left Rondout at 6:05 p.m. on Sept. 30, 1889 on what was supposed to be her last trip. 

It was reported that a particularly large crowd gathered on the dock and gave her a hearty farewell. All the way down the river, her whistle was kept busy answering three blast - salutes of farewell from other steamboats. The following night, however, she came back in Rondout Creek briefly to unload supplies — and then went to Marvel's shipyard at Newburgh to be readied for her long voyage to the Pacific. 

At the shipyard, the red carpeting of the “City of Kingston’s” saloon was taken up and her furniture stowed. Her guards were reinforced with iron braces and heavy wooden slats to break up the force of ocean waves. Her open bow was enclosed, windows boarded up and water tight partitions installed on the main deck. Two large masts were stepped and rigged for sails. 

Before the Canal
Finally, on Nov. 18, 1889 the “City of Kingston” passed New York City for the last time and headed down Ambrose Channel. Since 1889 was long before the digging of the Panama Canal, it meant the steamboat had to go down the entire coast of South America, through the Straits of Magellan at Cape Horn, and then up the west coast of South America, Central America, Mexico and all of the United States to reach her destination of Puget Sound. 

The “City of Kingston" arrived at Port Townsend, Washington, Feb. 27, 1890 after a safe and apparently relatively uneventful voyage. She had been 61 days at sea and her best 24 hour run had been one of 327 nautical miles. The remaining 30 days of her voyage had been spent in various ports taking on coal and supplies and at Valparaiso, Chile for engine repairs. 

​Entering service on the west coast on March 15, 1890, her principal run was on the route between Tacoma, Seattle, Port Townsend and Victoria, B. C., although on occasion she also made runs to Alaska. The “City of Kingston” was to run successfully in this service for nine years. 

Early on a Sunday morning, April 23, 1899, the “City of Kingston’’ was inbound for Victoria from Tacoma, running through a light fog. At 4:35 a.m., just a few miles short of her destination, she was in a collision with the Scottish steamship "Glenogle’’ outbound for the Pacific. The “City of Kingston’’ was struck on the starboard side, aft of the fireroom and sank in three minutes. Boats from both vessels were put over and all 12 passengers and 60 crew members were saved. Her wooden superstructure, broken at two by the collision, floated off.

A number of the “City of Kingston's” crew members when she was in service on the Hudson River went to Puget Sound and served on her there. One of these was John Brandow, second pilot on the steamer on her first trip to Rondout on May 31, 1884. By a quirk of fate, he was the pilot at the wheel at the time of her fatal collision 15 years later. Also, strangely, the steamboat's name remained unchanged during her years on the west coast. The steamboat named for the fine colonial city on the Hudson River proudly carried the name “City of Kingston” to ports 3,000 miles away and in service never envisioned at the time of her launching. 

After she sank, several of her crew members who had gone to the west coast returned to Kingston. One of them brought with him several small sections of her joiner work salvaged from the saloon of the sunken steamboat. 

The Cornell Steamboat Company, the “City of Kingston's” original owner, had several of these small panels put in oak frames and gave them to former officers of the steamer when she had been in service on the Hudson River. One of these was given to former First Pilot William H. Mabie. It is now in the possession of his grandson and my good friend, Roger Mabie of Port Ewen.

                                                              City of Kingston
The “City of Kingston” was a 246 foot, iron hull, stern-propeller steamboat constructed for the Cornell Steamboat Company of Rondout in 1884 at Wilmington, Delaware. She was constructed to replace the ill-fated “Thomas Cornell,” which was wrecked in the spring of 1882, was the first stern propellered steamer built for hauling freight and passengers on the Rondout line, and was capable of making 19 miles per hour.
               
The “City of Kingston” proved unsatisfactory for service on the Rondout line due to the necessity of many landings, and while she made good time while under way between stops, too much time was consumed in endeavoring to bring her into the dock.
               
Despite this deficiency, she remained in service here for five years and was then sold, in October, 1889, and was taken to the Pacific coast for service on Puget Sound. She left New York on November 22, 1889, for her long journey to the west coast.
               
An April 24, 1899, the Northern Pacific Oriental liner “Glenogle,” outward bound, collided with the City of Kingston” inward bound from Victoria. This accident occurred during a light fog at 4:35 o’clock Sunday morning off Brown’s Point. The “City of Kingston was struck on her starboard side, aft of her boiler room, and was cut in two by the liner’s iron bow. Three minutes later her hull was resting on the bottom of Puget Sound and her upper works, divided in two parts, was floating about the bay.
               
At the time of the accident the “City of Kingston” was the property of the Northern Pacific Railroad and was valued at $150,000. Confusion reigned aboard the stricken vessel but finally the 12 passengers and 60 members of her crew were gotten aboard the “Glenogle” without any loss of life. Thus the career of the namesake of this old Colonial city was brought to a close.

 FACILITIES FOR TRAVEL.
            The facilities for travel along the Hudson next season will, by the addition of the trains of the West Shore road, be very large.  We have only to refer to some of them to show that travel must indeed be very large in order that all the lines can be made to pay.  In the lower Hudson there will be three lines of steamers between Peekskill, Nyack and New York, a steamer will run as usual between Haverstraw and Newburgh, a steamer will run two or three times a day between West Point and Newburgh, a steamer will run between Newburgh and Poughkeepsie, two steamers will run between Newburgh and Albany, three steamers will run between Poughkeepsie and New York, three steamers will run between Rondout and New York, one steamer will run between Saugerties and New York, two between Catskill and New York, two between Catskill and Albany, two between Coxsackie and New York, four between Troy, Albany and New York, also in addition the two day boats between New York and Albany.  These make twenty-seven steamboats that will run night and day, saying nothing about handsome barges.  Add to these twenty six trains on the N. Y. C. & H. R. R. R., and twenty trains on the West Shore R. R., making forty-six trains in all.  The twenty seven steamboats have a carrying capacity of 10,000, and the trains, taking six cars to a train, a carrying capacity of 10,560, making a grand total of carrying capacity, by both cars and boats of 26,650 people. — Poughkeepsie Eagle.
            Rockland County Journal (Nyack, N. Y.), February 24, 1883

THE TRAVEL INCREASING. COMMUTERS ARE NOW COMING BACK TO NYACK.
The Saturday Half Holiday Train Will Be Put on the Latter Part of May.
            Traveling is steadily increasing to and from Nyack, and in a few weeks at the most the trains and boats will be carrying their full quota of passengers.  "The travel on the Northern Railroad," said Mr. William Essex, station agent at Nyack, to a reporter, "is now slightly increased over that of last year at this time, and I think the prospects are good for an increased number of passengers during the season.  A number of commuters are already back from the city in their Nyack homes, and most of them travel up and down daily.  A little later more cars will have to be put on the trains to accommodate the passengers.
            "I have not yet heard of any change in the time-table," continued Mr. Essex, "and I do not anticipate any.  The present time table appears to give general satisfaction.  The Saturday half-holiday train will be put on the latter part of May."
            Travel in other directions is also on the increase.  The Chrvstenah carries a goodly number of passengers to and from the city daily, and the number is steadily growing larger. There are more daily passengers to and from the West Shore station at West Nyack than there have been during the past season, and the Nyack and Tarrytown ferry is also doing an increased business.
            Soon the tide of Summer travel will set in in every direction, and Nyack will probably have its full share of those who come and go.
            Rockland County Journal (Nyack, N. Y.), May 4, 1895