Belle Horton
                                                                        
Constructed as a replacement for a steamboat that had been destroyed by fire, the “Belle Horton” was in service for 25 years on various routes and finally was also the victim of the flames which brought to a close the careers of many of the Hudson river steamboats.

The wooden hull of the “Belle Horton” was built by Van Loan and Magee at Athens, New York, in 1881, and her engine- a vertical beam type with a cylinder diameter of 32 inches with a seven foot stroke- was the product of Fletcher, Harrison and Company of Hoboken, New Jersey. The vessel’s hull measured 135 feet, six inches in length, with a breadth of beam listed at 25 feet five inches, and a depth of hold of seven feet five inches. Her gross tonnage was listed at 305, and her net tonnage at 224.

The “Belle Horton” was built for the Citizens’ Line of Troy to take the place of the steamboat “Golden Gate,” which had been destroyed by fire during the summer of 1880. Due to the shallow water in the upper Hudson river between Troy and Albany, the larger night boats, “City of Troy” and “Saratoga,” sometimes experienced difficulty in navigating the river between these two cities, and the “Belle Horton” was often used as a tender to these two larger vessels. Because of her fine lines and graceful appearance the “Belle Horton” became a favorite with the river-minded public and she was used frequently for excursion parties on the upper Hudson river during the summer months.

The year of 1894 marked the end of the steamboat “Belle Horton” in excursion service, and she was then chartered out to run between Newark and New York. The following two years, 1895 and 1896, found the “Belle Horton” in service between Keyport, N.J., and New York on the route formerly traversed by the steamboat “Magenta,” which had been chartered to run between the Battery, in New York city, to Bay Ridge, Brooklyn.

During the time of the Spanish-American War, 1897-1898, the “Belle Horton” was running between New York city and Norwalk, Conn., and in 1899 she was returned to Troy where she was again used for excursion purposes. For one month during this period in her career the “Belle Horton” was in service between Peekskill and New York, replacing the steamboat “Chrystrah,” which was laid up for repairs to a broken shaft.

The beginning of the 20th century closed the career of the “Belle Horton” on the waters of the Hudson river. The trim little steamboat was sold and taken to Norfolk, Va., where she was placed in service as an excursion boat on the James river. She sailed the James river between Norfolk and a place called Pine Beach, and the name “Belle Horton” disappeared from her sides- giving way to the name “Pine Beach.” In 1906, after a quarter of a century of service, the “Pine Beach” was destroyed by fire- thus erasing from active service the steamboat which had been known to travelers of the Hudson river as the “Belle Horton.”

By William O. Benson as told to Ann Marrott

SLEIGHTSBURGH — Labor Day on the Hudson signified the last runs of the excursion steamers for the summer — especially for the people who had come up from New York City to spend the summer around the Catskill Mountains and Kingston. 

It always seemed that on Labor Day, people didn’t appear so happy — especially the children.  When you saw the boats come up in early June or July, the children would be so happy. But when getting on the boats going back Labor Day Weekend, they would all be nice enough, but there would be no joy. 

Labor Day was one holiday I hated as a boy, because the next day I had to go to school. The Hudson River Day Line would run extra boats on Saturday and Sunday and Labor Day.  And if you were out on Kingston Point on that holiday there would be a number of boats coming out of New York to bring the people back.  Everyone wanted to get home the day before school started. All those boats would be loaded going to Bear Mountain. The Central Hudson Line would be running boats up to Beacon, Newburgh and Poughkeepsie. Labor Day was also the last excursion of the “Homer Ramsdell” and it would be advertised in the papers. 

Now, if you brought the New York World back then you would see two whole pages full of steamboat listings.  There would be steamboats listed there that people today have probably never heard of, such as the “Grand Republic,” the “Commodore,” the “Benjamin Franklin” and the “Sea Gate.” The “Sea Gate” could carry 500 to 600 people.  But the bigger boats you would see would be the “Benjamin E.  Odell,” the “Robert Fulton,” the “Albany,” the “Onteora,” and the “Clermont.” Some of the big Day Line boats could carry 3,000 or 4,000 people.  The “Washington Irving” could carry 6,000 people. 

I remember one Labor Day on the “Albany.”  A lot of people got off her at Bear Mountain and this poor, stout woman came rushing down the pier, screaming and yelling.  Her children were on the boat and it was already leaving.  So the mate yelled back to her, “We'll put them off at Newburgh in charge of the dockmaster there. You'll have to get them at Newburgh.” Anyway, the purser took them under his wing and when they got to Newburgh the dockmaster took care of them.  I’m not sure how they made out, but I’m sure they were fine.  You used to see that all the time!!

The[n] after Labor Day the boats would get back to their regular schedules.  Most of the captains on those boats, especially George Greenwood, the captain of the “Benjamin B. Odell,” were always glad to see Labor Day come.  George was always worried with so many people on the boat during the summer excursions, of a fire starting in the staterooms.  Some of the boats did run after Labor Day on a Saturday or a Sunday to carry passengers to Bear Mountain or an excursion out of Kingston, but they wouldn’t have the big crowds. 

I looked forward to Labor Day, too, when I worked on the boats.  You knew the boats were going to only run another day or two.  Then she was headed for the Rondout Creek to tie up for the winter and you could go home.  All during the summer you never got home much on those boats. 

Whatever boats were the most expensive to run were tied up first — right after Labor Day.  The Day Line, after the holiday, operated only two boats.  Sometimes for two weekends in September they would have, for example, the “Robert Fulton” ready to come out for a fall excursion to see the Hudson River fall foliage. 

When the boats were tied up we worked on them until the first of November cleaning the boat and painting her.  Then of course you were laid off for the winter. In those days if you saved $150 to $200 during the summer you would have it made. You could live very comfortably all winter long.  Some of us would get jobs ashore, which I used to do.  I always looked forward to spring, when I could get back on the boats.

After Labor Day — during the fall and winter — was the busiest time for workmen in the  Cornell Steamboat Company shops.  When the river was freezing over and navigation was closing, that’s when they started to repair and clean up the boats.  Sometimes they would employ 400 or 500 men during the winter.  They had the boiler gang, machinists, sawyers, painters, blacksmiths, the coaling gang and the bull gang—they did all the heavy work.  They also had a lot of white collar workers.  Everyone worked to get the boats ready for the next season.

                                                            No. 86- Shady Side
                                                                   ———--
Little is known of the steamboat “Shady Side” in this section of the Hudson Valley, as the territory she served on the Hudson river was within short distances of New York city.

The wooden hull “Shady Side” was built at Bulls Ferry, New Jersey, in 1873 and she was powered by-an engine produced by Fletcher, Harrison and Company of New York. Her dimensions were listed as: Length of hull, 168 feet, one inch; breadth of beam, 27 feet, five inches; depth of hull, nine feet, five inches; gross tonnage, 444, net tonnage 329. Her engine was the vertical beam type with a cylinder diameter of 44 inches and an eight foot stroke.

The “Shady Side” was a remarkably swift and handsome steamboat of medium size. She was built for the New York and Fort Lee passenger day line, running in line with the steamboat “Pleasant Valley.” Later she was purchased by the Morrisania Steamboat Company and in 1874 she was running in line with the steamboats “Morrisania” and “Harlem between Morrisania and New York. This line was in competition with the regular Harlem boats, “Sylvan Dell,” “Sylvan Stream,” and “Sylvan Glen,” which were in service until 1879 when the elevated railroad system in New York city began to make inroads into the steamboat passenger business and finally forced the steamboats to cease operation- being sold in 1881 under the foreclosure of mortgage. The “Shady Side” was then used in and around New York harbor until 1902 when she was placed in service on the New York-Stamford, Connecticut route.

The “Harlem” and “Morrisania” were also used in New York harbor, chartered to excursion parties, and saw service on short routes from the metropolis. In the spring of 1895 the “Morrisania” was taken to Hoboken to have some repairs made. While there she caught fire and her joiner works were damaged to such an extent that it was decided not to rebuild the vessel. Her hull was then taken to Harlem and converted into a coal barge. The “Harlem,” the other vessel which ran in line with the “Shady Side” for the Morrisania Company, was sold in 1903 to a Boston concern and placed in service in Boston Harbor where she was destroyed by fire about a year later.

The “Shady Side” ran on the Stamford route until 1921. Later she was sold to Marcus Garvey of the Black Star Steamship Line, who used her for excursions until the fall of 1922 when she was completely worn out. The “Shady Side” was then taken to Fort Lee on the west side of the Hudson River and beached on the mud flats- a short distance from where she had been launched a half-century before. Here she slowly decayed, the last of the great fleet of fast steamboats which ran between Harlem and New York until the elevated railroad forced the steamboats to cease operation.

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 "Rosedale" was featured in this week's Media Monday blog post, a 1911 film of New York Harbor.

Deemed one of the most handsome steamboats of her class ever to sail the waters of the Hudson river, the “Rosedale” enjoyed an existence of 45 years in which she saw service on many routes and finally was consumed by flames in the same port where she was launched many years before.

The wooden hull of the “Rosedale” was constructed at Norfolk, Virginia in 1877, being 216 feet long. She had a breadth of beam of 34 feet two inches, depth of hold 10 feet. The gross tonnage was 938 with the net tonnage rating of 677, and she was powered with a vertical beam engine with a cylinder diameter of 50 inches with a 12 foot stroke.

The “Rosedale” was built for service on the James river but was soon brought north to New York waters. Her first appearance in New York harbor created much favorable comment among steamboat men who admired her trim lines and considered her a very handsome vessel for her class. Few steamboats in and about New York harbor at that period carried their boilers in the hold and forward of the engine as did the “Rosedale.”

​In the summer of 1878 the “Rosedale” was placed in service between Peekskill and New York as a dayboat. This period of service was short-lived and the “Rosedale” next appeared as an excursion vessel around New York harbor, also making trips to Coney Island.

On September 18, 1879, the “Rosedale” inaugurated a day service under the management of Captain Anning J. Smith, between New York and Bridgeport as an opposition vessel, and the fare from Bridgeport to New York was reduced to sixty-five cents or one dollar per round trip. This opposition was continued until 1892 when the “Rosedale” was taken into the rival steamboat line.

1902 marked the advent of several new steamboats for use on this route, with the result that the “Rosedale” was laid up for a time. During the summer months of 1905 and 1906, Captain Smith engaged in the excursion business, running the “Rosedale” to Coney Island and Rockaway Beach.

The spring of 1907 found the “Rosedale” running on the James river during the Jamestown Exhibition; the following fall the steamboat was back in New York harbor. In the spring of 1908 the “Rosedale” was again used on the Rockaway Beach route and for short routes around New York.

​Philadelphia was the next port of call for the “Rosedale” as she appeared in and around the Quaker city on the Delaware river in 1917 and continuing there until 1920. She was then taken to Norfolk, Virginia and laid up at the Merritt & Chapman yard. Fire ravaged the Rosedale in 1922 while she was laid-up at Norfolk, ending the career which had begun 45 years previous at the same port.

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!

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. 

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. 

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.

I was awfully glad when a friend proposed a trip to Saratoga.  I had been awfully jolly in New York, but New York had gone out of town, leaving nothing but its streets and its tram-cars behind it.  In London we have such a perpetual flow of visitors — over one hundred thousand daily — that a fellow doesn't so much miss the "big crowd" as here, consequently when Saratoga was decided upon I felt extremely pleased indeed.  I had heard much of the palatial river steamers, and expected much.  I was down at Pier 41 at an early hour, and found the whole place occupied by one boat.  Such a boat! white as the driven snow, and larger than many an English village.  The people kept going into her until I imagined some game was up, and that they were stepping out at the other side.  No such thing; there was room for all ay, and more.  It was something immense to see the men getting into line for the ticket-office, with as much precision as if they were on parade.  No hurry, no crush, the regular "first come, first served" business, not as with us, when the biggest man comes to the front, and muscular Christianity tops over everything.  And the luggage! Mountains of it, from enormous nickel-bound boxes, fit to carry Cleopatra's Needle, to dainty hand-bags, such as Queen Victoria's take with them when rushing at sixty miles an hour "Upon Her Majesty's Service.'

It was awfully amusing to see this mountain gradually dissolving, as truck after truck bore its load within the recesses of the palpitating Drew.  For the first time I made acquaintance with a Saratoga trunk, and from what I see of it, it seems a first class invention — for another man's wife.  Near the gangway stood a handsome, gentlemanlike man, whose semi-naval uniform looked as though cut by Smallpage, of Regent Street.  This, I was informed, was Captain Roe, one of the most courteous and best-respected captains of the sea-like rivers of America.  I was instructed by my friend to take a state-room — at home I would have asked for a berth — and, having paid my money, became intrusted with the key of a charming little bedroom, better fitted up than that of my club, and boasting an electric bell. 

As I turned out of my newly acquired apartment I was much struck by a very stylishly attired young lady, gotten up to the pitch of traveling perfection, and as new as Lord Beaconsfield's Garter.  The man with her was also as if recently turned off a lathe.  He carried a couple of hand-bags that had never seen rain or shine before.  He hung lovingly around the lady, bending over to her, whispering into her ear, touching her hand, or her dress, or her parasol.  "By Jove!" thought I, "this is a brand-new bride and bridegroom, and what a doosid [sic] queer place to select for the moon."  Mentioning tis to Captain Roe, with a smile, he ordered a portly colored stewardess to open a door tight opposite to where I stood.  "This," he said, "is the bridal chamber — we have two on board.  As the pink one happens to be occupied, I can show you the blue."  Availing myself of the captain's kindness, I entered the [room], which is a symphony in blue and white, with a ceiling resembling a wedding-cake.  It is sixteen feet long, twelve broad, and nine feet high, and piquante as a boudoirette in Le Petit Trianon.  The walls are white, supported by fluted pillars with gilt capitals; the cornices of gold, and in each corner stands a statuette of Cupid.  The ceiling is a perfect broidery of white and pink and gold, frozen lace-work, ornamented with medallions representing appropriate scenes in mythological history.  Wreaths of orange blossoms entwined with forget-me-nots decorate it, within which are amorous love-birds, while in the centre of the ceiling, in relief, a pair of turtle doves bill and coo upon a perch composed of hymeneal torches, and the new spent arrows of the rosy god.  The chamber is lighted by two windows, hung with blue satin curtains trimmed with gold fringe, the inner curtain being of lace.  A mirror, whose gilt frame is composed of Cupids and orange-blossoms, extends from floor to ceiling; an inlaid table upon which is placed a richly chased tray, with ice pitcher and goblets, an easy-chair a caressing lounge, a rosewood toilet-stand fitted n blue, and the bed, constitute the furniture of this fairy-like apartment.  Such a bed! rosewood, gilt to the carpet, with a blue satin spread covered with real lace, pillows to match, and a rug as soft as the tenderest sigh ever breathed by love-stricken swain.  The president of the company, too, is the happy possessor of a special room fitted up in the extremity of good taste.

​A gong sounded for dinner, and, following a strong lead, as we do at whist, I found myself in a large, brilliantly-lighted apartment, set with several tables.  The menu was extensive enough to meet the requirements of the most exacting appetite, while the viands bore witness to skillful cookery.  After dinner I went for a stroll, yea, a veritable stroll — always striking against the bride and bridegroom — in a saloon picked out in white and gold, the chandeliers burning gas, and the motion being so imperceptible that the glass drops did not even waggle — on a carpet fit for Buckingham Palace, and in a grove of sumptuous furniture; then for'ard, where many gentlemen in straw hats were engaged in discussing the chances of General Grant for something or other, I know not what; then aft, where many ladies sat in picturesque traveling attitudes, gazing at the soft outlines of the shore on either hand, some alone and some doing the next best thing to flirting.

What a sleep I had!  No more motion than if I was at the club.  No noise, no confounded fume of train-oil and its rancid confrères.  I slept like a humming-bird, and next morning found myself at Albany.  This place is on a hill, surmounted by a white marble building, and Capitol, which, when competed, will be an awfully imposing affair.  I took the train for Saratoga —  a drawing-room car — and such a boudoirette on wheels! —  I felt as if I was in a club-window all the time.

Saratoga is awfully jolly.  It is the best thing I have seen, with its main street as wide as the Boulevard Malesherbe or Haussman, and lined for a mile and a half with magnificent elms, which shade hotels as big as some European towns.  It is always thronged with carriages just like Rotten Row in the season, and lots of people on horseback.  The piazzas of the hotels are crowded with stunningly pretty girls, dressed, all over the place.  Overhead is an Italian sky, blue as sapphire, and a golden tropical light falls around, picking out the shadows in dazzling contrast.  "I guess," as the Americans say, I'll drive my stakes pretty deep here.

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.

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The Hudson River's last day passenger steamboat was "Bay Belle". Built in 1910 the "Bay Belle" operated under different names and for different companies for decades. During her time on the Hudson River "Bay Belle" carried charters from New York City to day resorts at Bear Mountain, Rye, and from Yonkers to Rockaway Beaches.. Author Richard V. Elliott writes of "Bay Belle" in his manuscript "The Boats of Summer" : "Never intended to be biggest, fastest, or most luxurious, this hard working, medium-sized steamer was a survivor that transported and entertained millions." 

Passenger steamboats sold souvenirs onboard such as the pennant, pin and postcard shown here. 

Tickets were also kept as memorabilia of "Bay Belle" summer excursions.

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 First Steamboat "North America"
The first “North America” made her appearance on the Hudson river in the days when steamboats were scarce and not very practical, and after a little more than 10 years of service, she encountered the heavy ice- the nemesis of many steamboats- and had her career abruptly ended on the bottom of the river.

The wooden hull of the “North America” was built by William Capes at New York in 1827, and her engine was constructed by John Stevens at Hoboken, N.J. Her hull was 218 feet long, her beam measured 30 feet across, and her hold was only eight feet deep. She had two vertical beam engines with cylinders having a diameter of four inches with a nine foot stroke.

Robert L. Stevens was the owner of the “North America,” and she was built for service between New York and Albany at a time when river transportation was entering upon an era of prosperity which brought forth many of the now famous steamboats and recorded in history glorious tales of the Hudson river.

The “North America” had a pair of beam engines and, as she was a rather light vessel, her owner had a hog frame on a truss placed in her to stiffen the hull. This was a departure from the methods of steamboat construction of that period and as a result the water lines of the “North America” were rather “hard” and she had what was termed a “spoon bow.”

These engines of the “North America” made 24 revolutions per minute and her history indicates that the vessel was not noted for speed- her best time recorded from New York to Albany being 10 hours and 30 minutes.

When loaded with freight the “North America” drew six feet of water and burned from 25 to 30 cords of wood on the 155 mile trip between New York and Albany.

​Robert L. Stevens ran the “North America” for several years and finally sold her to Isaac Newton and others who ran her in line with the “DeWitt Clinton.” In the fall of 1839, while on one of her regular trips from New York to Albany, the “North America” ran afoul of a field of heavy ice a short distance below Albany. She was unable to cope with the pressure of the ice which eventually cut through her planking, causing her to sink into the waters of the Hudson river and thus brought her career to an abrupt end.

The second steamboat "North America"
The 230 foot “North America” appeared in 1839, built by Devine Burtis at Brooklyn. Her vertical beam engine had a 48 inch cylinder and 11 foot stroke and she had two Milliken Patent boilers.

The new steamboat was built for Isaac Newton and other parties for the People’s Line of Albany, and was the second boat called the “North America” which was built for this line plying between Albany and New York.

The “North America” was in service only a short time when she had a new and larger consort, the “South America.” Together, these vessels brought fame to the Hudson river as they plied between the two cities, setting a fine style for the construction of steamboats. They eclipsed all their predecessors both in speed and style, and the “North America” was the first steamboat to use blowers for artificial blast, in the furnaces of boilers, by an independent engine.
 
The “North America” ran on the Albany route until the year 1850 or 1851, when she was retired from the People’s Line and then used as a consort to the “South America” and the “Hero” on the New York-Hudson night line. She was finally purchased by Captain Jacob H. Tremper, of the Rondout firm of Romer & Tremper night line, and was placed in service between Rondout and New York in line with the steamboat “Manhattan” until the fall of 1860, when she was replaced by the new “James W. Baldwin.”

​The vessel was then sold to J. W. Hancox and D.D. Chamberlain, and was chartered out in 1862 and 1863 at $325 and $400 per day. Finally, on July 9, 1863, she was sold to the federal government for $55,000. The “North America” was sunk at Algiers, Louisiana, opposite New Orleans, on October 8, 1863- and later was raised and taken to New Orleans, where she was broken up.

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