The Hudson River Maritime Museum has an extensive collection of oral histories interview of Hudson River commercial fisherman, including fisherman Edward Hatzmann, who was interviewed on April 25, 1992. Below, Hatzmann recalls a story told to him by fellow fisherman Charlie Rohr, about a prison break from Sing Sing Prison in Ossining, New York.
Unlike some fishermen's tales, this one was really true! Fisherman Charlie Rohr really did have to deal with the prisoners. He was interviewed for the Yonkers, NY Herald Statesman in an article published April 14, 1941. The article is transcribed in full below:
"'We're Going To Bump You Off!' Killers Promise Charlie Rohr. But Shad Fisherman, Who Rowed Fugitives Across Hudson, Talks Them Out of It and Escapes Alive" OSSINING - Charlie Rohr is alive today, but from now on he feels he's living on borrowed time. Rohr is the shad fisherman who rowed two desperate escaped convicts across the Hudson River and then talked himself out of being their third victim. "It was pretty tough sitting there with two guys holding guns to you," Rohr reported, "but it didn't do any good to lose your head." Rohr and another fisherman were getting their equipment together in their shack shortly before 3 A.M., preparatory to rowing out to their weirs. A series of shots broke the pre-dawn stillness but the men didn't pay much attention to it. "I thought it was just a brawl," Rohr said. The other fisherman went upstairs for a minute, and Rohr stepped to the door of the shack on Holden's Dock. Two men, white-shirted and in the gray trousers unmistakably of Sing Sing Prison, confronted him. Two guns were held against his stomach. "Is this your boat?" one growled. "Yes," said Rohr. "Get going then," he was told. "And fast - we've just killed a cop." Rohr wasn't having any. "You take the boat," he urged. "You're rowing," he was told. "Get going." The trip across the river took an hour - the longest hour of Charles Rohr's life. The thugs sat in the center and stern seats of the boat, and trained their guns upon him during the entire trip. Rohr worked the oars, and then men whispered back and forth. The fisherman pulled up at a point near Rockland Lake on the west bank. The convicts prepared to leave the boat. "Now," said one in an expressionless voice, "we're going to bump you off." "Listen," said Charlie Rohr, his mind working faster than it ever had before, "that won't do you no good." The men paused. "I'm well known around here, see? Everyone knows my boat. And if you knock me off, and the boat's around here, everyone is going to know what happened and where you guys got away." They were still listening, so Rohr kept on. "What you'd better do is let me go back. Then no one's going to know anything about this." Four eyes regarded him coldly. Then the pair whispered together for a minute. Charlie Rohr held his breath, and then his heart leaped. The men jumped from the boat and ran into the woods on the shore of Rockland County. He rowed back across the river with shaking knees. 
"Disheveled at battered, these two fugitives from Sing Sing prison are shown today after eight hours of freedom during which they left a train of four dead in a prison break. They are Joseph Riordan, left, and Charles McGale. They were captured in the Rockland County hills a mile from the Hudson, which they crossed in a rowboat." caption of photograph from Yonkers "Herald Statesman" front page, April 14, 1941.
Joseph Riordan and Charles McGale were caught in Rockland County and returned to prison. Charlie Rohr went back to fishing.
If you'd like to hear more stories from Edward Hatzmann, check out his full oral history interview, available on New York Heritage. For more fishermen's oral history interviews, check out our full collection.
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 Aftermath of the World Trade Center attack as seen from space, recorded by NASA, public domain. In honor of the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, we are sharing one of our favorite and most poignant documentary films about that day, "Boatlift." "Boatlift" chronicles the marine evacuation of lower Manhattan during the attacks. Narrated by Tom Hanks, this short film highlights the ordinary people who stepped up to help strangers in a time of crisis. If you would like to learn more about the evacuation and the people involved, read Jessica DuLong's book Saved at the Seawall: Stories from the September 11 Boat Lift or catch up on her 2021 lecture for the Hudson River Maritime Museum, "Heroes or Human: September 11th Lessons on the 20th Anniversary," as recorded below. Jessica DuLong shares the dramatic story of how the New York Harbor maritime community delivered stranded commuters, residents, and visitors out of harm’s way on September 11, 2001. Even before the US Coast Guard called for “all available boats,” tugs, ferries, dinner boats, and other vessels had sped to the rescue from points all across New York Harbor. In less than nine hours, captains and crews transported nearly half a million people from Manhattan. This was the largest maritime evacuation in history. DuLong’s talk, and her book Saved at the Seawall, highlight how people come together, in their shared humanity, to help one another through disasters. Actions taken during those crucial hours exemplify the reflexive resourcefulness and resounding goodness that reminds us of the hope and wonder that’s possible on the darkest days. If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!
 The canal boat the Little Freddie at the entrance to Roebling's Delaware Aqueduct. Minisink Valley Historical Society. Note the woman at the tiller and the two children riding the mules. Happy Labor Day! For today's Media Monday, we thought we'd highlight this recent lecture by Bill Merchant, historian and curator for the D&H Canal Historical Society in High Falls, NY. "Child Labor on the D&H Canal" highlights the role of children on one of the biggest economic drivers of the Hudson Valley in the 19th century. Child labor was a huge issue in 19th and early 20th century America (learn more) throughout nearly every industry, including the maritime and canal industries. Although many canal barges were operated by families, many were also operated by single men who exploited orphans and poor children, often with fatal results. Children were most generally used as "drivers," also known as hoggees, who walked with or rode the mule or horse who pulled the barge through the canal. Work was long, often sunup to sundown or even longer, as the faster barges could get through the canal, the faster they could return and pick up a new cargo, thus making more money. The Kingston Daily Freeman reported a Coroner's Inquests on July 18, 1846, which recorded several deaths related to Rondout Creek and the D&H Canal, including a young boy. It is transcribed in full below: Coroner's Inquests. On the 11th, Coroner Suydam [sp?] held an inquest at Rondout on the body of Joseph Marival, a colored hand on board the sloop Hudson of Norwich, Ct. He went in the creek to bathe, and was accidentally drowned. The same officer held an inquest at [?] Creek Locks on the body of Henry Eighmey, on the 15ht, drowned in the canal by a fall from a boat about noon. We have record of a third by Mr. Suydam, held at Rosendale on the 12th, on the body of Andrew J. Garney, a lad of ten years old, a rider, who it was supposed fell from his horse into the canal about day break of that morning, a verdict conformable being rendered. In connection with the last case, we would remark, that the crew consisted of one man with the driver who was drowned. That the boat had been running all night [emphasis original]; that about three o'clock in the morning the man spoke to the land and was answered, and that some time afterwards he missed him, and concluded he must have fallen into the canal. Is there any thing strange in the fact that a lad of ten years, worn down with the fatigues of a long day and a whole night in the bargain, should drop into another world? Now we do not mean to mark this as a singular case, by any means. It is but one of the like occurring almost daily on the canal. Lads are hired at a mere pittance, and men are determined to get as much work out of them as possible, without the least regard to health, comfort, or safety. The poor children are toiling from daylight to dark, and if in addition they are forced to nod all or part of the night, the consequent sleep and death is nothing to be wondered at. We would call attention to this subject on the part of those who may able to devise a mode of reaching such cases. Nor would it be out of place in the Coroner's jury in the next instance should state the whole [emphasis original] truth in the verdict. Most laborers on the canal were paid at the end of the season, but it was not uncommon for unscrupulous barge operators to cheat the boys of their wages and abandon them in random canal towns. Even when working with their families, children who lived aboard barges sometimes had hard lives. Although the Delaware & Hudson Canal closed in 1898, children and families continued to work on the newly revamped New York State Barge Canal system and canals in Ohio and elsewhere into the mid-20th century. In 1923, Monthly Labor Review published an article entitled "Canal-boat Children," which looked at the labor, education, and living conditions of children on canal boats. Of particular interest was safety, as the threat of drowning or being crushed in locks was near-constant. Still, many families were able to make decent livings aboard canal barges, until tugboats took over canal barge towing in the mid-20th century. To learn more about New York Canals, visit the Hudson River Maritime Museum's exhibit "The Hudson and Its Canals: Building the Empire State," or visit the newly revamped D&H Canal Museum in nearby High Falls, NY. 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 14, 1938 cover of "The New Yorker" magazine with a painting by Arnold Hall depicting racing motor boats passing the passenger steamboat "Hendrick Hudson" on the Hudson River. Hunter Haines Collection, Hudson River Maritime Museum. In the early 20th century as outboard engines and motorboats were developed the Albany to New York Boat Race was a way to showcase what these engines could do. Running 136 miles from the Albany boat basin to 77nd Street in New York City, the boat race was a grueling, bone-shaking, spray-spitting marathon run. The film below is the full-length version of what has been posted many times online in shorter versions. Sponsored by Mercury Outboard Motors, the film covers the 1949 race Although little of the early history of this race has been recorded, the Hudson River Maritime Museum has a copy of a program from the New York Motor Boat Club's "First Annual Long Distance Motor Boat Race," from New York City to Albany and back again, which was held on July 3, 1909. Starting at the New York Motor Boat Club House at the foot of West 147th Street in New York City with the turnaround at a stake boat off the Albany Yacht Club House in Albany, NY, the race included the return to New York City, a distance of 270 miles. "A supply a fuel" was kept at Newburgh, Athens, and Albany for refueling. The boats had to be propelled by "explosive engine or engines operated by either gasolene [sic], kerosene, or alcohol. Any ingredient to increase the power of the fuel will not be allowed." Paid pilots and navigators were also not allowed - which meant that boat owners largely had to pilot their own vessels. Captains had to keep their own time logs, making notations as they passed prominent points, and these had to be handed in to the race committee within twelve hours of finishing the race. Interestingly, "automobile boats," which were high-speed motor launches made with automobile engines, were excluded from the race. According to the Kingston Daily Freeman, June 30, 1909, the race included "at least" 26 registrants - including six open boats, "one auxiliary sloop" and twenty cabin boats. Although we have yet to find the results of the race, on January 7, 1910, the New York Times reported on the annual meeting of the New York Motor Boat Club, writing, "As a promoter of races the Motor Boat Club has been signally successful and conspicuous, having conducted a larger number of these contests in 1909 than ever before, and exceeding in number those of many other organizations. The New York to Albany race, held in July last, was very successful, and proved so popular that it will doubtless become as fixed on the schedule of motor boat events as the Bermuda, Marblehead, and Block Island races." The race did indeed become an annual event, and by the 1920s "automobile boats" had taken over as the primary high-speed launch. It is not clear when the race ceased to be a round-trip affair and started in Albany instead of New York City, but by the mid-1920s the race was half the distance. This footage from British Pathe dates between 1929 and 1932 (the dates of Herbert Lehman's service as Lieutenant Governor of New York): The end of the footage mentions that this was the 5th annual race. The fact that the first annual race was in 1909 indicates there were several races by different motor boat clubs over the years. Motor boat racing continued to be popular into the 1970s, with advances in hydroplanes, larger engines, etc. To learn more about motor boat races like the Albany to New York Marathon, and others around the world, visit www.hydroplanehistory.com. 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!
 Movie poster for "Little Old New York" (1940), reading "Darryl F. Zanuck's production of Little Old New York with Alice Faye, Fred MacMurray, Richard Greene, and Brenda Joyce, Andy Devine, Henry Stephenson, Fritz Feld. Directed by Henry King, Associate producer Raymond Griffith. A 20th Century-Fox Picture." Last week we learned about the real Robert Fulton and the launching of his North River Steamboat on August 17, 1807. This week we thought we'd have a little fun with the 1940 historical drama, "Little Old New York," a fictionalized account of Robert Fulton's struggle to get his steamboat funded and in the water. The most famous scene is when local sailors, angry at the prospect of lost jobs, set the boat on fire. Like many historical dramas from the 1940s and '50s, this one is light on historical accuracy. In the film, Fulton doesn't meet Livingston until he arrives in New York. In real life, Livingston met Fulton in France in 1801 and was impressed with his work. Livingston had already been interested in steam navigation and had been given a monopoly on steam navigation in New York in 1794. Together, they financed an experimental version of the steamboat in Paris. With no success in convincing either the French or British government to adopt his design for a submarine, Fulton returned to New York in 1807 to work with Livingston on a second steamboat. That would become the Steamboat (no additional moniker was needed for the only one) which traveled the Hudson River against wind and tide in August of 1807. There is also zero evidence that Fulton received any assistance from a pretty tavern keeper in Lower Manhattan, although it makes for good storytelling. Thankfully, the film writers had her fall for sailor "Mr. Brown" instead of Fulton. Robert Fulton married Robert Livingston's niece Harriet Livingston in 1808. They went on to have a son and three daughters. Although "Little Old New York" is far from historically accurate in storyline, the producers of the film did re-create Fulton's steamboat based on historical plans. The film also reflects an early 20th century interest in the "great men" of the American past and Robert Fulton stood large in that pantheon for decades. Ultimately, his legacy of successful steam navigation did change the Hudson Valley, New York, and the world forever. 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!
 "First trip of Fulton's steamboat to Albany, 1807," etching by Samuel Hollyer, 1907. Library of Congress. On August 17, 1807, Robert Fulton launched the "Steamboat" in New York City, bound for Albany, NY. Funded by founding father Robert Livingston (whose estate at Clermont became the home port of the steamboat), the "Steamboat" made the voyage north in 32 hours. Learn more about the background behind this first voyage below. Although Fulton was not the inventor of the steamboat, or even the first to launch a successful steamboat, he and Livingston were the first to turn a profit making passenger runs. Therefore it was Fulton's sidewheel design that would go onto dominate designs of Hudson River steamboats and others for decades to come. If you'd like to see a scale replica of Fulton's North River Steamboat, visit the Hudson River Maritime Museum to see our newly-acquired, six-foot-long model in the East Gallery. 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!
 "New York Fire Boat In Action" illustrated postcard from 1904 depicting the fireboat "The New Yorker," which operated from 1890 to 1931, using her water cannons to fight a raging blaze aboard a passenger ferry at night. Marquart Collection, Hudson River Maritime Museum. A few weeks ago, we shared a documentary film about the FDNY fireboats in New York Harbor called "Sea Going Smoke Eaters." This week, we thought we'd follow up with this amazing recording from 1938. Marc A. Hermann, who created the video and posted it on YouTube writes: "In what may be the earliest known recording of the FDNY radio system, this clip is found on the January 1, 1939 broadcast of "New York Advances," a program produced by municipal radio station WNYC. The show summarizes city initiatives and projects of the preceding year, including a piece about the use of two-way radios by fireboats. "Additionally, the clip provides insight to the department's roster of fireboats which were given concurrent "land unit" designations. Two-way radios were implemented department-wide by the early 1950s." WNYF was the radio station of the Fire Department of New York (FDNY). This broadcast to the public on WNYC was part of a New Year's Day special describing the activities of the city government of the previous year, including the oath of office speech of Mayor LaGuardia, and fictionalized reenactments of modern and historical happenings. Following the broadcast of the FDNY fireboat roll call, "Chief of NY's Army and Navy, Fire Commissioner John McElligott, who discusses the importance of two-way radios; expresses his wish that, in the future, each police car and fire department will be equipped with a two-way radio; and lists the other development advancements of the department over the past year." Listen to the entire 1939 "New York Advances" broadcast on the New York City Municipal Archives website. For more on FDNY fireboats and their history, check out this website featuring information and images of many historic FDNY fireboats. 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!
 Colorized movie poster, "Joseph M. Schenck presents Buster Keaton in 'The Boat' written and directed by Buster Keaton and Eddie Cline - a First National Attraction, First National Pictures." Featuring Buster Keaton with his head through a porthole and Sybil Seely in sailor style blouse standing next to the boat. In 1921, silent film star and comedian Buster Keaton released one of his best comedy shorts, The Boat. Following the exploits of an unnamed amateur boatbuilder (played by Keaton) whose boat is too big for his house and ends up getting him and his family - a wife, played by Sybil Seely (uncredited), and two young boys (actors unknown) - into all kinds of trouble. This is considered the third in a trilogy of shorts starring Keaton and Seely. The first, The Scarecrow (1920) follow's Keaton as a bumbling farm hand who is afraid of the farm dog who ends up marrying the farmer's daughter (played by Seely). The second, One Week (1920) follows the exploits of newlyweds Keaton and Seely as they attempt to build the DIY house they received as a wedding present. By the time of The Boat (1921), the pair have had two children - young boys who get into nearly as much trouble as their father. The name of the doomed vessel is "Damfino," a play on the phrase "D--med if I know," which also gets a laugh in the movie. Keaton must have loved the pun, as he went on to use it several times throughout his career. Although filmed and set in California, as we get into the high season for family boating and boatbuilding, we thought this was a fun one to share with our fellow Hudson Valley residents. We hope you enjoy watching with friends and family! If you'd like to learn how to build a boat that actually floats (and doesn't wreck your house), check out our boatbuilding classes! And if you'd like to learn how to sail properly (including what to do if your boat capsizes!) check out our Sailing School for adult and youth offerings. 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!
 Film still from the 1911 Svenska Biografteatern film of New York City, featuring a tugboat and barge at far left, passenger ferry in the middle distance, and another tugboat (stack smoking) towing a barge at right. The Brooklyn Bridge is in the background and the Manhattan Bridge is in the foreground. A few years ago the Metropolitan Museum of Art release this beautifully shot film of New York City in 1911. Made by a team of cameramen with the Swedish company Svenska Biografteatern, these views of New York were just one of the films they made chronicling famous cities around the world. Some of this footage may look familiar, as you may have seen a shorter version (basically they cut the steamboats out!) published in 4K on YouTube a few years ago that went viral. A genealogist even did a follow-up investigation of some of the people featured in the film, and tracked down their ancestors! But for the maritime historians at HRMM, the version published by MOMA was super fun to watch because we got to see several historic steamboats in action! The Orient, Mary Patten, Rosedale, and the sidewheel steam ferry Wyoming are all featured, and the Rosedale and the Wyoming are both depicted underway with their walking beam steam engines rocking away. It's interesting to see how slowly the walking beam is moving when compared to the speed of the boats, which indicates that those pistons are moving with an incredible amount of force to turn the paddlewheels so quickly. Although the rest of the film is fun to watch, the steamboats are in the first two minutes, so we thought we'd give a little history of some of the vessels you're seeing!  Steamer "Orient" underway on the East River. Wilton Collection, Hudson River Maritime Museum. The sidewheel steamboat Orient was originally built in 1896 as the Hingham for the Boston & Hingham Steamboat Company. In 1902 she was purchased by the Montauk Steamboat Company and renamed Orient, where she operated until 1921 when she was sold to a company in Mobile, Alabama and renamed Bay Queen and continued to operate until 1928.  Steamboat "Mary Patten" passing ocean piers in New York Harbor, August, 1928. Tracy I. Brooks Collection, Hudson River Maritime Museum. Built in 1893 in Brooklyn, NY the Mary Patten was operated by the Patten Steamboat Company, running between New York City and Long Branch, NJ, which was a resort area in the late 19th century. The Patten Line (also known as the New York and Long Branch Steamboat Company) was founded by Thomas G. Patten in 1890 and in 1893 he built a new passenger steamboat named the Mary Patten after mother, Maria (Mary) Patten, who had died in 1886. (It is not, sadly, named after heroic Cape Horner Mary Ann Brown Patten.) The steamboat Mary Patten stayed in the family and on the NYC run until 1930, when the Patten Line folded and the Mary Patten was sold to the Highlands, Long Branch, and Bred Bank Steamboat Company, where she may have operated for a year until being taken out of operation.  Sidewheel ferry "Wyoming" underway, September 13, 1940. Donald C. Ringwald Collection, Hudson River Maritime Museum. The history of the sidewheel steam ferry Wyoming was not easy to track down, especially since there were a number of other vessels named Wyoming, including an earlier sidewheel steamboat immortalized by James Bard. But thankfully Brian J. Cudahy's Over and Back: The History of Ferryboats in New York Harbor had some answers. The iron-hulled, walking beam sidewheel steam ferry Wyoming was built in 1885 by Harlan & Hollingsworth in Wilmington, Delaware for the Greenpoint Ferry Company (1853-1921). The Wyoming was in service as a ferry on the East River until around 1920, when she was sold to the City of New York. She "later ran for upper Hudson River interests" (p. 444 of Cudahy) until she was scrapped in 1943, likely a victim of both bridges and the war effort. The above photo, taken in 1940 by steamboat historian Donald C. Ringwald, may have been one of her last. If you'd like to learn about the last steamboat visible in the film above, the Rosedale, stay tuned! We'll featured more on her later this week. 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!
 For Sail Freighter Friday last week, we visited the cautionary tale of the John F. Leavitt, a wooden sailing ship built between 1976-79 and launched in October of 1979 in Thomlinson, Maine. Conceived of by amateurs as a way to revive sail freight in the wake of the Oil Crisis of the 1970s, the vessel would go on to become a cautionary tale, and set back the idea of sail freight for decades. Several years after he began filming the project, filmmaker Jon Craig Cloutier released "Coaster: A true story of the John F. Leavitt." In 1982, the year "Coaster" won best feature documentary at the American Film Festival, the New York Times interviewed Cloutier: The waves were over 20 feet high and the winds stronger than 60 miles an hour on that eighth day at sea. ''The sun was setting in the west and we were sinking in the east,'' Jon Craig Cloutier said. Mr. Cloutier, a film maker, was one of nine persons aboard a 97-foot schooner, the John F. Leavitt, on its maiden and final voyage. The ship was 187 miles off the coast of Long Island on Dec. 29, 1979, and night was approaching when the nine aboard and 3,600 feet of film were saved by two helicopters from the 106th Aerospace Rescue and Recovery Group. A Russian trawler had received the ship's call for help and sent an S O S to the New York National Guard in Westhampton. ''Two large jolly green giants appeared in the sky,'' Mr. Cloutier said. ''The last thing to go into one helicopter was my film.'' Fifty thousand dollars worth of photographic equipment was left on the ship. Watch the full film below. The film covers the ship's construction, launch, maiden voyage, and disastrous end. Narrated from the point of view of Ned Ackerman, the school teacher who dreamed up the idea of the John F. Leavitt, the film runs just over 90 minutes long. Although the official release date is 1983, the film was shown as early as 1981. This November 23, 1981 review from the Washington Post reads: "Coaster," which opened Friday at the Inner Circle, is the story of the John F. Leavitt, the trading schooner that was launched in a crescendo of windship romanticism two years ago and sank on her maiden voyage. She was the dream of a former college teacher named Ned Ackerman, a young man with a sea captain's beard and an unflagging desire to construct a 98-foot, 100-ton sailing vessel for glory and profit. From the beginning he was dogged by cameramen, and this 90-minute film is the result of their chronicle. It appealingly records the Leavitt's construction, from the laying of her keel to the fitting of the "shutter plank" that sealed her hull. The Maine craftsmen, and their tools and techniques, are fascinating to watch and listen to. It took Ackerman four years to get the Leavitt built, but she came out right. He then cast off for Quincy, Mass., to pick up his first payload -- a cargo of chemicals and lumber bound for Haiti. Just before Christmas, heavy laden, the Leavitt set out into the North Atlantic. The temperature in Quincy was 8 degrees, and her crew was looking forward to the tropics. Less than a week later, beset by a winter gale 150 miles southeast of Cape Cod, the Leavitt had received superficial damage to her rig, found her main bilge pump inoperable, and was reporting a 30-degree list to port. With more bad weather on the way, Ackerman put in a distress call to the Coast Guard. Helicopters arrived to evacuate him and his eight-person crew. The Leavitt apparently sank sometime thereafter. The end of the John F. Leavitt was sad and inconclusive, and that is a condition that affects this documentary as well. Movie footage of the rescue itself was either lost, or not shot, so the tale simply stops. This is understandable, but difficult to forgive. Even more difficult to forgive are the relentless sea chanteys, full moons and echoing narrative that give "Coaster" an overeager heroism. Had things come out all right, that would be merely annoying; as things are, it is bizarre. "Coaster" would make more sense on television, perhaps on a weekend morning. It is not what you expect to find in a movie theater. As for Ackerman, brutal questions remain unanswered. After four years of willful publicity, in which he sought to bring back a lost era of seagoing, he abandoned ship in his first gale. Given the ambiguous ending of "Coaster," we are free to assume that Ackerman abandoned his dream ship while she was still afloat, rather than risk the lives of his crew in saving her. That is the new tradition of the sea, not the old. Ackerman probably did the right thing. But he proved the wrong point. And since he is a first-class publicity hound, he proved it big. What do you think? Do you agree with the Washington Post's review? If you'd like to learn more about sail freight and the Oil Crisis, visit the Hudson River Maritime Museum in-person or online to see our new exhibit "A New Age of Sail: The History and Future of Sail Freight on the Hudson River." |
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