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 April 8, 1973.

The month of March has frequently been known for its capricious pranks of weather.  On two occasions in particular —March 13, 1893 and March 12, 1936 — madcap March weather brought considerable excitement locally.  On both dates, freshet conditions in Rondout Creek caused the ice covering the creek’s surface to go out with a rush, carrying everything in its path out towards the Hudson.  

On both occasions, the conditions were similar.  The preceding winter months had been severe with heavy ice.  During early March the weather turned warm causing runoffs from melting snow into the Wallkill River and upper Rondout Creek.  Water and broken ice cascading over the dam at Eddyville backed up behind the solid creek ice creating considerable pressure.  Finally, the solid ice below Eddyville began to crumble.  Once the ice started to move, its movement accelerated rapidly, rushing down the creek with great force and speed.  Anything in its path was swept along downstream.  In both instances, this was mostly the fleet of the Cornell Steamboat Company.   

Those who witnessed the moving ice described it as an awesome sight.  Mooring lines were snapped like strings.  Vessels in the path of the grinding ice moved like ghosts down the creek and out into the Hudson River where they came to a stop in a jumbled mass against the solid ice of the river.  In both instances, despite damage to the vessels involved, surprising there was only one reported personnel injury in 1893 and none in 1936.  

More Spectacular 
The freshet of 1893 was probably the more spectacular since more vessels were involved, including at least eight big side-wheel towboats.  All told, approximately 50 vessels were swept out of the creek.  In addition to the big side-wheel towboats, these included at least 15 Cornell tugboats and two dozen canal boats and barges.  
In 1893 melee of ice and boats set adrift occurred in the late afternoon on Monday, March 13.  At about 4 p.m. a huge ice jam above Wilbur let go and the uncontrolled movement down Rondout Creek commenced.  

A Freeman reporter described the scene as follows: “It was a scene that will never be forgotten by those who witnessed the outgoing vessels, as they jammed against one another and against the docks, the noise of parting lines and cracking timbers being plainly heard a block or more away.  The shouts of the men on the boats who like maniacs hauling in the lines, endeavoring to make the boats fast, and the cries of warning from people on the docks to the boatmen added to the excitement and the scene was one that words cannot picture.” 
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At the time, the ferryboat ‘‘Transport’’ was coming across the river from Rhinecliff and was just inside the dikes of the creek when she was met by the outgoing ice and army of drifting vessels.  She was enveloped by the advancing fleet and swept back into the river.  Some of the ferry’s passengers were reported to have been panic stricken and to have leaped across floating blocks of ice to the solid ice of the Hudson.  Apparently, they all successfully made it.  

Captain Injured 
The only reported injury was to Captain Charles Post of the Cornell tugboat “H. T. Caswell."  His right foot was broken when caught between a mooring line and a cleat.  A Dr. Smith and a Dr. Stern made their way across the ice in the river to the tugboat where they treated the injured boatman.  He was later carried in a blanket across the ice to shore.  ​

In 1936 freshet was probably the more damaging since the Cornell tugs “Rob,” "Coe F. Young” and “William E. Cleary” were sunk and eight others fetched up along the south side of the creek opposite Ponckhockie, whereas in 1893 virtually all of the boats involved had floated out into the Hudson.  

The 1936 marine spectacular started at about 7:30 a.m. on Thursday, March 12.  At that time, the ice started to move out of the creek below Eddyville and rapidly built up force and momentum as it moved toward the Hudson.  As the ice surged past the C. Hiltebrant Shipyard at Connelly, it took along with it a small passenger steamboat, two tugboats, a derrick boat, and three or four barges and lighters that had been in winter quarters at the yard.  Two scows tied up at Island Dock were swept away by the grinding ice and joined the growing armada of vessels moving downstream.  

The tug “Rob” had been tied up west of the Rhinecliff ferry slip on Ferry Street.  A drifting barge caromed off the side of the “Rob,” heeled her over and sent her to the bottom of the creek.  Eleven Cornell Tugboats that had been moored at Sleightsburgh all were set adrift by the advancing ice and started on their way down by the Rondout Creek.  

The Foggy Mark 
At the Cornell shops at Rondout, eleven out of twelve tugs tied up there were swept away.  Snapping mooring lines sounded like guns going off.  A heavy fog enveloped the area: and added to the ghostly appearance of the scene.  At that point, some 30 tugs, barges and other vessels were moving down the creek and disappearing from sight into the foggy murk enveloping the creek and river. 

At the Sunflower dock at Sleightsburgh — further down creek — lay nine more Cornell tugboats and a steam derrick.  The ice and moving vessels swept by these tugs and miraculously they remained in place.  The outboard tug at the head of this group, however, the “Coe F. Young,” was holed and sunk and possibly this saved the remaining tugs from also moving along with the others.  Two days later, the tug “William E. Cleary’’ — tied up with this group — rolled over and sank.  

When the fog lifted shortly before noon on March 12, eight of the tugboats that had been swept along from the neighboring Baisden shipyards at Sleightsburgh were strewn grounded along the south shore of the creek opposite the old Central Hudson gas house.  All of the others were jumbled together out in the Hudson River off the Rondout lighthouse against the solid river ice.  

By a quirk of fate, the Cornell tugboat ‘‘J. C. Hartt” was the “hero” of both the 1893 and the 1936 freshets.  In 1893 she was swept out into the Hudson and was one of the first tugs to get steam up and return the others to their berths.  In 1936, after being set adrift, she moved down the creek stern first close along the Rondout docks.  At Gill’s dock in Ponckhockie she hit a brick scow moored there. 

Ended Voyage 
The scow captain jumped aboard the “Hartt,’’ ran forward and was able to get a line ashore and end her unscheduled voyage at that point.  
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Fortunately, at the time the “Hartt” was being made ready for the coming season.  In short order, steam was raised on the tug and she soon was able to get underway and start the task of corralling the run-away fleet.  By March 15, virtually all of the run-aways were back at their berths.  The sunken “Rob” and “William E. Cleary” were subsequently raised.  The sunken “Coe F. Young,” however, never was — and to this day what is left of the old tug is still on the bottom of Rondout Creek off the old Sunflower Dock where she met her end in the freshet of March 12, 1936.

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 in Tempo on June 25, 1972.

During the early 1920's, when I was a boy growing up in Sleightsburgh, church services used to be held every Sunday afternoon at the little Sleightsburgh chapel on First Street.
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The Rev. Mr. Anthony of Rondout would conduct the service and be assisted by Mr. Arthur S. Flemming, who later became the president of Ohio Wesleyan University and Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare in President Dwight Eisenhower’s cabinet.  Mr. Flemming at that time had graduated from Kingston High School, but he had graduated so young that his father, Judge Harry Flemming, thought he should wait a year before going on to college.  During that period, he used to assist Rev. Anthony almost every Sunday, being very active in church work.  

On a quiet Sunday afternoon, the bell in the belfry of the chapel would toll shortly before the service was to begin at 3 p.m.  My mother would take my sisters and me with her to the service. ​

Three Long Blasts
At 3:25 p.m., the steamer “Poughkeepsie” of the Central Hudson Line would blow three long blasts on her whistle, announcing her impending departure at 3:30 p.m. from Rondout for New York.  Almost always, Rev. Anthony would be giving his sermon at that time.  When the "Poughkeepsie" would blow her whistle, Rev. Anthony's sermon would come to a dead stop. 

How that whistle would echo through the hills surrounding the Creek!  Especially on one of these hot, lazy summer Sunday afternoons when the windows would be open.  The "Poughkeepsie” would blow … and I'm afraid I would lose all interest in the sermon.  At that time, how I wished I were the lookout on the “Poughkeepsie” and could be aboard her as she started out the creek. 

It is my understanding that much the same thing used to take place at Malden during the late 1930's and 1940's.  At that time, Ellsworth Sniffen of Malden was a pilot on the “Alexander Hamilton’’ of the Hudson River Day Line.  As was the custom on steamboats, most captains and pilots would blow a three blast salute on the whistle to their families as their steamer passed their home ... a steamboatman’s way of saying “hello.”

During the 1930's and ‘40’s, the “Alexander Hamilton” almost always was the up boat to Albany on Saturdays.  This, of course, would mean she would be the down boat on Sunday.  The schedule at that time called for the down boat to leave Catskill at 11:40 a.m. and Kingston Point at 1 p.m.  This would put her past Malden at about 12:15 noon. 

A Momentary Halt.
As the “Hamilton” would come down along the west shore of the River off Malden, Pilot Sniffen would blow the customary three blast salute on the whistle.  Services would be in progress in the church of the hill.  As the “Alexander Hamilton" blew lustily, there would be a momentary halt while the pleasant whistle echoed through the valley. 

Now the steamboat whistles are all gone.  So are many of the churches, such as the little chapel at Sleightsburgh. 

Progress is wonderful, but in its fast-paced course forward so many things of yesteryear are lost in the wake — like the sound of a steamboat whistle on a summer Sunday afternoon.

 
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Although you may never have heard of him, Buster the brindle bulldog was once one of the most famous dogs on the Hudson River. The pet of Capt. and Mrs. A. Eltinge Anderson, Buster accompanied his master at his work aboard the steamboat Mary Powell. Much beloved by both passengers and crew, Buster was so good at a number of tricks, he ended up in the newspaper

On August 23, 1903, the New York Times, published a biographical account of Buster and his exploits. The Kingston Daily Freeman, eager to pay tribute to the local hero, published the same account a few days later on August 25th: 

Of all the mascots which are supposed to bring good luck to the ships and boats which ply in the harbor of New York there is none more accomplished than “Buster,” the mascot of the Mary Powell, the Albany Day Line boat which runs between New York and Kingston on the Hudson. “Buster” is a dog owned by Capt. Anderson and is held in affectionate regard not only by all the members of the crew of the Mary Powell, but by all of the residents of Hudson River towns who are frequent passengers on that steamer.

“Buster” is six years of age, having first seen the light of day on March 4, 1897, the date of President McKinley’s first inauguration. His tutors have been Capt. Anderson and the members of the Mary Powell’s crew, and he has progressed so well under their instruction that Capt. Anderson now declares him to be the best swimmer and sailor connected with the boat.

“Buster” takes to water like a duck. An invitation from his master to disport himself in the Hudson River fills him with delight. With one leap he is over the railing of the boat and he can frolic around in the water for an hour without getting tired. As it is impossible for him to make a landing once he is in the water owing to the docks and the sea wall around the Albany Day Line’s wharf, he is brought back into the boat by a peculiar and ludicrous manner. Capt. Anderson sends one of the members of the crew out onto a float and the sailor lures “Buster” to the float by throwing him a stick. “Buster” goes after the stick and brings it back to the float in his mouth. The sailor then catches hold of the stick and hauls “Buster” up onto the float, the dog retaining a firm grip on the piece of wood. Once “Buster” is on the float, another sailor throws out a line to the man on the float. This is fastened around “Buster’s” body. The dog is then told to take another dive. When is he again in the water, the sailor on the boat pulls him in just as he would a fish.

On Thursday, March 12, 1908, at the ripe old age of 11, Buster passed away. On that date, the Kingston Daily Freeman reported "BUSTER IS DEAD. Mrs. A. E. Anderson's dog, Buster, the best known dog along the Hudson, died this morning of old age."

The following day, on Friday, March 13, 1908, they reprinted the above biography, but with an addendum on the end:

Since the above was first published "Buster" had added to his accomplishments.  He was the owner of a pass on the local trolley line, and often used the privilege when alone, boarding and leaving the cars the same as any other passenger.

Perhaps Buster took a trolley like the one above! 
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​The staff and volunteers of the Hudson River Maritime Museum had a delightful time researching Buster and his history. We hope you enjoyed this story as much as we did. 

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

In working in the archives today with volunteer G.M. Mastropaolo, we discovered this delightful timetable in the Donald C. Ringwald collection. Outlining travel times and locations for steamboats, steam yachts, ferries, stages/stagecoaches, and railroads in Rondout, Kingston, "and vicinity." 

Among the many time tables is that of the ferry boat Transport. To learn more about the Transport, ​check out our past blog post about its history and use. 

Of particular interest to the collections staff and volunteers at the museum was this time table for the steamboat Mary Powell, the star of our 2020 exhibit, "Mary Powell: Queen of the Hudson," opening April 25, 2020. 

"Handy Book of the Catskill Mountains" was designed for those traveling to the Kingston area for access to the Catskill Mountains and mountain houses. Measuring just 4 by 2.5 inches, this tiny little handbook would fit perfectly in a pocket or lady's reticule. 

The Hudson River Maritime Museum is pleased to make this handbook available to the public. If you would like to view the entire book, chock full of both traveler's information and period advertisements, click the button below to download a PDF. 

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

March, 2020 is March Membership Madness here at the museum. If you join in the month of March, you can receive 20% off (for 2020) any membership level. Learn more. 

Editor's Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article written by George W. Murdock, for the Kingston (NY) Daily Freeman newspaper in the 1930s. Murdock, a veteran marine engineer, wrote a regular column. Articles transcribed by HRMM volunteer Adam Kaplan. For more of Murdock's articles, see the "Steamboat Biographies" category at right.

                                                Transport 1881
 Hull built of iron by Cramp at Philadelphia, PA. Length of 115 ft., breadth of hull 20 ft., 5 in. depth 9 ft. 5 in, gross tonnage 318, net tons 226. Engine constructed by Harlan and Hollingsworth at Wilmington, Del., Vertical beam engine. Diameter of cylinder 32 inches by 9 feet stroke.
 
The Transport was launched in December 1874 built for the Windmill Island Ferry Company to operate between Philadelphia and Reading wharves and Windmill Island carrying freight cars for a time was laid up. In the early part of the year 1881, the Transport was purchased by Thomas Cornell of Rondout; after making several alterations, was put on the route between Rondout and Rhinecliff on September first 1881. With Captain Benjamin Wells of Port Ewen in charge, William Van Steenburgh Pilot, William Barber engineer, and Isaac Schultz fireman. The Transport was the third ferryboat to operate on the Rondout and Rhinecliff route taking the place of the Ferryboat Lark that had been on the route since the spring of 1860, with Captain B.F. Schultz, John Landers, Pilot; William Morrow, engineer, and Isaac Schultz, fireman. The Lark took the place of the Ferryboat Rhine which was the first steam Ferryboat to operate across the Hudson River at this point of the river in the 1840s. When the Rhine was first put on the Hudson she took the place of a horse boat that was propelled by horses, ran from what was called the Sleight Dock across the river to Kingston Point. That was before the Hudson River Railroad was built. After the railroad was completed in 1852, there was a station built at Rhinecliff, the Rhine ran from Rhinecliff to Kingston Point until the late 1850s, then changed her route to Rondout, where it has run to the present time excepting one year 1876 when it ran from Ponckhockie. When the Transport was put on the route the Lark was sold to the Port Richmond and Bergen Point Ferry Company to ply across the Kill von Kull, Staten Island. The Lark was renamed the Arthur Kills where she ran for several years. Last trip crew: Capt. Nelson Sleight, Pilot Ross Saulpaugh, Silas Wells, chief engineer.

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​The Hudson River was integral to the development of the Delaware and Hudson Canal. The Canal was conceived by Philadelphia dry goods merchants Maurice and Charles Wurts in the second decade of the 19th century, in order to transport anthracite coal from Pennsylvania mines to New York City. The coal traversed the 108-mile-long Canal, winding through the Lackawaxen, Delaware, Neversink, Bashakill, Sandburgh and Rondout valleys before arriving at the Hudson River near Kingston, NY.  From there, the cargo would travel south on the Hudson for over eighty miles to supply the primary market in New York City. Coal was also shipped north to Albany—about forty-five miles—and from there it could be transported on the Erie Canal to support the westward expansion of the population.  

Benjamin Wright (the chief engineer of the middle section of the Erie Canal) oversaw the original plans for the D&H Canal, which date from 1823. He believed that “the Canal boats may navigate the Hudson. A steam boat of 50 horse power will tow ten of them, and if double manned will perform the trip to New York and back in 2 days, the distance 100 miles.”[1] However, the earliest canal boats, which were 75 feet long and 9 feet wide, with a capacity 30 tons, proved unsuitable for travel on the river.  As a result, coal had to be offloaded from canal boats to other vessels at Rondout for transport on the Hudson River—a time-consuming and costly process. In Steamboats for Rondout Donald Ringwald writes, “...the canalboats obviously had to be small size and because of this and a need to keep them on their regular work, they generally did not go beyond the Company works on Rondout Creek.”[2] By 1831, the Company had begun purchasing barges for use on the Hudson. The first two were the Lackawanna (146 feet in length) and the James Kent (135 feet in length), and to tow them, the D&H Canal Company “chartered and then purchased an elderly sidewinder named Delaware.”[3]

As the Canal Company prospered, the Canal was enlarged. In the 1840s, the depth was incrementally increased from four to five feet, with no change in the original width of thirty-two feet. In 1847, anticipating increased traffic from a deal with the Wyoming Coal Association (which later became the Pennsylvania Coal Company) to transport their coal on the D&H Canal, the company enlarged the waterway, which reached its final depth of six feet and width of forty to fifty feet by 1850. The new dimensions of the Canal accommodated boats that were ninety-one feet long, fourteen and a half feet wide, and could carry up to 130 tons of coal.[4]

Safe navigation of the Hudson was considered so important that, in a letter dated January 21, 1852 from head engineer Russel Farnum Lord to President John Wurts, a discussion of the new boats for the enlarged canal noted:  “The Birdsall Lattice Boats derive their advantage of carrying the largest cargoes, mainly, if not entirely, from the difference in their weight when light – Their plan of construction however is such that there is a reason to doubt their durability and substantial ability for use on the river.”[5] Later, referring to boats from a different builder, he wrote: “From the experience had, it is evident that the Round Bow Section Scows are, and will be, the best and most desirable for the Coal Canal business – With them an important and permanent reduction in the rate of freight may be established – The only draw back is, whether they will be competent for the river transportation.”[6] The cost of handling the coal at Rondout was uppermost in their minds and the larger boats that the company ordered proved Hudson River – worthy.

Throughout the 19th century and into the 20th, rafts of up to 100 canal scows were frequently encountered on the Hudson. On August 18, 1889 The New York Times wrote:

From its opening in 1828 through the closing of most of the canal in 1898—and even through 1917, when the section from Rosendale to Rondout finally stopped carrying cement—the Delaware and Hudson Canal was responsible for vast amounts of traffic on the Hudson River. Indeed there would not have been a Delaware and Hudson Canal without the Hudson River!