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 October 15, 1972. Of all the steam propelled vessels that have floated upon the waters of Rondout Creek, probably the one that was best known locally in her day was the ungainly little ferry boat that used to cross the creek from the foot of Hasbrouck Avenue to Sleightsburgh. Known throughout the area as the “Skillypot,” she made her last trip from Rondout to Sleightsburgh on Oct. 14, 1922 — exactly 50 years ago yesterday. “Skillypot” - reportedly a corruption of the Dutch word for tortoise — wasn't even her right name. It was the “Riverside,” a name that many would-be patrons often changed to where she usually was found - the “Otherside.” She may not have been loved as was the “Mary Powell” or admired as were many other steamboats, but she certainly was well known, and almost universally as the “Skillypot.” Her fame on both sides of Rondout Creek rested securely until the opening of the 9-W highway suspension bridge in 1921 - the only way in her latter years to get across the creek, unless of course one owned or rented a rowboat or wanted to walk to Eddyville. She played an important part in the daily lives of many area residents, especially when the Rondout section of Kingston was important to the business and social life of the community. Wherever there has been a natural barrier such as a river or a creek, people it seems have always wanted to get to the other side. A Scow Was First At Rondout, the first recorded vessel to regularly cross the creek was a small scow that was sculled across by hand from Sleightsburgh and could carry one wagon and a team of horses. This means of transportation existed until the spring of 1855 when the small steam ferryboat “J. P. Sleight” made her appearance. Built by the sons of John P. Sleight and named for their father, the new ferryboat had two slide valve steam engines connected by cog wheels to two large steel drums. The drums were connected to a chain which was secured to both sides of the creek, a distance of about 440 feet. The drums would rotate and pull the ferry back and forth across the creek on the chain. The chain was of sufficient length to rest on the creek bottom except where it passed around the drums. In March 1870, a severe freshet caused by melting snow and rain caused the ice in the upper creek to let go. The ice coming down the creek carried the “J. P. Sleight” right along with it. At the mouth of the creek, the “Sleight” smashed into the lighthouse that then stood on the south dike. Mrs. Murdock, the keeper of the light, caught a line from the ferry, but it parted and away went the “J. P. Sleight," drifting with the ice floes down the river. In a few hours, the Cornell ice breaking towboat “Norwich” got underway and, breaking her way through the heavy ice fields off Esopus Meadows lighthouse, spotted the “J. P. Sleight” in another ice field down off Esopus Island. The “Norwich” brought the “Sleight” back to Port Ewen, where it was found her light hull had been damaged beyond repair. Her owners decided to build a new ferryboat which became the “Riverside.” Contract to Washburn Abraham and Isaac Sleight gave a contract for the new ferryboat to Hiram and John Washburn. When she was launched, the “Riverside” measured 55 feet long and 20 feet wide. Her engines came from the old “J. P Sleight" and were installed by John Dillon of Rondout. The new “Riverside” was a success from the start. Upon the death of Isaac Sleight, ownership of the ferry passed to Herbert A. Starkey, and then in 1903 to Albert Norris who operated her until 1906 when Josiah Hasbrouck became the owner. It is not known at what, point in time the “Riverside” became better known as the latter name by which she was known far and wide in Ulster County. As time went by and the automobile came along, new highways were being built along the banks of the Hudson. It soon became evident a bridge was badly needed across Rondout Creek. As a matter of fact, it was long overdue. After World War I on summer weekends, automobiles would be lined up on the Sleightsburgh side almost to the middle of Port Ewen and on the Kingston side to the top of Hasbrouck Avenue. Then, the “Riverside” really was a “Skillypot." On summer weekends when automobiles were backed up on both sides of the creek, enterprising Sleightsburgh boys would earn money by showing unknowing motorists how to get across the creek by going across the bridge at Eddyville. Pilots for a Fee For a fee, they would get in a waiting car and “pilot” the motorist through New Salem and Eddyville to Rondout. There, they would reverse the process by taking a motorist from Hasbrouck Avenue through Eddyville to Port Ewen. At times in some winters the “Skillypot” would be the only steamboat in operation on the upper Hudson. To keep her operating, men would cut a channel through the ice using ice saws and pike poles to shove the cakes of ice under the solid ice or, if it seemed easier, pull them up on top of the ice. During the summer, when the ferry “Transport” would come over from Rhinecliff, the swells from her paddle wheels would carry up the creek. Then how the “Skillypot“ would rock back and forth sideways and cause concern to some of the passengers. The “Skillypot” always made her last trip of the day at 10:30 p.m. She would land at her Sleightsburgh slip and blow one blast on her small, clear, shrill whistle, signifying her toils were over for that day. Then if people still wanted to get across the creek, they would have to take a small scow, sculled by a single oar by Lyman Perrine. Finally, the long awaited day came when the new bridge was open to traffic. The “Skillypot” still continued to operate for a period, but foot passengers even took to walking over the new bridge to save the two cents fare. So on Saturday night, Oct. 14, 1922, a Saturday then as it was this year — the “Skillypot” at 10:30 p.m. blew her final one long shrill whistle. As the echo died, so did she “Riverside.” No More Chains On Monday, Oct. 16, the two engineers, Charles Van Leuven and Charles Becker, and Peter Shoemaker, the deckhand, started to lay her up. They drained the water out of her boiler, disconnected the chains that connected her to each shore for so many years, and stowed ashore other equipment like lanterns and life preservers. Then on Oct. 18, 1922, at 4 p.m. when the tide was high, they pulled the “Riverside” by hand to the east of the Sleightsburgh slip and beached her high on the shore. Just as they were about to pull her out of the slip, Richard Sleight, one of the brothers who operated J. Sleight’s Sons general store next to the ferry slip, ran out and jumped aboard, saying he wanted to have one last trip on the “Skillypot." She stayed on the beach at Sleightsburgh until Oct. 20, 1923 when she was towed to South Rondout after being purchased by former Alderman John Fischer. There, by a quirk of fate, she was put inshore alongside the remains of the famous “Mary Powell," then being dismantled. To this day, at low tide, parts of her old bones may be seen on the shore east of the railroad bridge. Many an old riverman and Town of Esopus resident saw duty on the “Skillypot.” In addition to her final crew of Charles Van Leuven, Charles Becker and Peter Shoemaker, the roster included Elmer Marsh, David Relyea, William Sleight, James Devoe, Theodore Relyea, Andrew Taylor, James Rodman and Isaac C. Sleight. AuthorCaptain William Odell Benson was a life-long resident of Sleightsburgh, N.Y., where he was born on March 17, 1911, the son of the late Albert and Ida Olson Benson. He served as captain of Callanan Company tugs including Peter Callanan, and Callanan No. 1 and was an early member of the Hudson River Maritime Museum. He retained, and shared, lifelong memories of incidents and anecdotes along the Hudson River. If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!
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On the afternoon of Tuesday, November 29, 1921, over a thousand people gathered at the Kingston, NY Armory for a celebratory dinner. The dinner was part of a whole day of celebrations around the opening of the Rondout Creek Suspension Bridge, which connected the town of Port Ewen and the City of Kingston. One of the oldest suspension bridges in New York State (it predates the Bear Mountain Bridge by 3 years), and according to an article in the Daily Freeman ("Ten Thousand Hear Governor at Rondout Creek Bridgehead," November 30, 1921), the largest suspension bridge built in the county since 1909 (no word on which other bridge was built then). The festivities included an enormous parade, speeches by New York State Governor Nathan L. Miller and other officials, and a ceremonial walk across the bridge, including a ceremonial meeting of the two towns in the middle of the bridge, represented by young women shaking hands. When the official festivities were closed, the general public was allowed to cross the bridge. So many people were crowded on either side that the Freeman reported, "So tightly was the crowd packed into a compact mass that if it had rained, few drops would have sifted through to the pavement. It is estimated there were 10,000 persons in the crowd." As nearly all the people walked across the bridge, the Freeman again commented, "It is hardly likely that the bridge will ever receive a more severe test or a heavier load." The event was followed with a fireworks display. So what's all this got to do with a shoe brush? This curious little souvenir from the Hudson River Maritime Museum archives was donated by John Wagman in 1994. A leather-backed brush meant to clean shoes or clothes, it features an image of the bridge on the back in gold and reads "Souvenir. Kingston, N.Y. Nov. 29, 1921" and below "Rondout Creek Bridge. State Highway Link to Kingston, N.Y. Catskill Mts. Ashokan Reservoir and the West." The brush was a souvenir of all who attended the celebratory dinner at the armory. The same Freeman article had this to say about the brush: "Wang Designed Brush Back. "Many who received the souvenir brush at the bridge banquet at the armory were struck with the fine design of the bridge on the back of the brush. The design was the work of C. Y. Wang, a Chinese student who is with the state highway department, who furnished the art drawing of the bridge for the brass die used to stamp in gold the bridge picture on the backs of the brushes. Mr. Wang deserves great credit for his fine work of art." Why a shoe brush was chosen as the souvenir for the event is unclear, but it may have become immediately useful to many attendees, as the Freeman also reported the prodigious amount of mud at the construction site, writing: "Plenty of Mud. "The rock cut was filled with water from the recent heavy storms and on either side of the cut the mod was deep. It was a clayey mud that made walking slippery, but thousands braved the mud to clamber up the hill and to look down upon the open space where the fireworks were set off. "Those who had not the foresight to wear rubbers were kept busy when they got home in cleaning the mud from their shoes, but what was a little mud to a good view of the really excellent display of fireworks set off by the Pain Company of New York?" Due to the weather, the bridge did not officially open to motorists until the spring. According to a Yonkers Herald article entitled "Rondout Bridge is Dedicated At Last" published December 1, 1921, "It will be a boon to motorists who have suffered long delays in crossing the slow-moving, antiquated chain ferry at Rondout." The Wurts Street Suspension Bridge, as it is often known today, turns 100 years old this year, as does this shoe brush. Happy Birthday to them both! 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!
This year is the 100th anniversary of the opening of the Rondout Suspension Bridge (or the Wurts Street Bridge, the Port Ewen Bridge, or the Rondout-Port Ewen Bridge, etc!), which opened to vehicle traffic on November 29, 1921. The bridge was constructed to replace the Rondout-Port Ewen ferry Riverside, which was affectionately (or not so affectionately) known as "Skillypot," from the Dutch "skillput," meaning "tortise." Spanning such a short distance, the ferry was small, and with the advent of automobiles, only able to carry one vehicle across Rondout Creek at a time, causing long delays. Motorists advocated for the construction of a bridge, which was set to begin in 1917. But when the United States joined the First World War that spring, construction was delayed until 1921. Staff at the museum had long known that there was a woman welder on the construction crew, but we knew nothing beyond that. Had she learned to weld at a shipbuilding yard during the First World War? Was she a local resident, or someone from far away? There were more questions than answers, until a few weeks ago when HRMM volunteer researcher and contributing scholar George Thompson ran across a newspaper article that he said went "viral" in 1921. Entitled, "Woman Spider," and featured in the Morning Oregonian from Portland, Oregon, the article indicated that "Catherine Nelson, of Jersey City" was our famous woman welder. Having a name sparked off a flurry of research and the collection of 37 separate newspaper articles, all variations on the same theme. Fourteen articles were all published on the same day, September 3, 1921. But only one had more information than the rest - "Never Dizzy, Says Woman Fly, Though Welding 300 Feet in Air. Mrs. Catherine Nelson Has No Nerves, She Loves Her work and Is Paid $30 a Day," published in the Boston Globe. Which, wonderfully, included a photo of Mrs. Catherine Nelson! Here is the full article from the Boston Globe: KINGSTON, NY, Sept 3 – Three hundred feet above the surface of Rondout Creek, a worker in overalls and cap has been moving about surefootedly for several days on the preliminary structure that is to support a suspension bridge across that stream. Thousands of glances, awed and admiring, have been cast upward at the worker, stepping backward and forward and wielding an instrument that blazed blue and gold flames and welded together the cables from which the bridge will swing. “Some nerve that fellow’s got!” was a favorite remark, to which would come the reply: “You said it!” But there’s more than awe and admiration now directed aloft, for it turns out that “that fellow” is a woman – Mrs. Catherine Nelson of Jersey City, the only woman outdoor welder in the world. Isn’t Afraid of Work She isn’t afraid of her work; she loves it; and – of course this is a big inducement – she gets $30 a day for it. She has never had an accident in her seven years’ experience at the trade. She’s as strong as a man, weighing 180 pounds to her 5 ft 6 in of height, and is a good looking, altogether feminine, Scandinavian blonde. She’s 31. "I was born in Denmark and was married there," Mrs Nelson told the reporter. "But my husband died and left me with two small children, so I had to shift for myself. "For two years I worked as a stewardess on an ocean liner, but I could not have my children with me and my pay wasn’t much, so I cast about for harder and better-paid work, so I could have my own little home. "My husband was a garage keeper in Denmark, and I had worked with him, so I knew something of machinery. I got a job in a machine shop in this country. They had an electrical welding department there and I soon got a place there. I grew to love the work and I’ve been at it for seven years. Does Not Get Dizzy "This is the highest job I’ve been on, but one of my first was on a water tower at Bayonne, 225 feet tall. I’ve been on smokestacks and tanks plenty. No, I don’t get dizzy. I wear overalls and softsoled shoes, and I’m always sure of myself, for I haven’t any nerves. "I like to pride myself on the fact that I’ve never turned down a single welding job because it might be dangerous.' Showing Mrs. Nelson’s standing in her trade, it was she who was sent up from Jersey City when Terry & Tench, the bridge contractors, asked the Weehawken Welding Company for their best operator. "My children and I are happy and comfortable now,' she said; 'and I hope to afford to take them home to Denmark for Christmas. But I will come back and tackle some more welding jobs." The last published article we could find, "Says She Has No Nerves," published in the Chickasha Star, in Chickasha, Oklahoma on September 16, 1921, is almost a verbatim reprint of the Boston Globe article. As a cable welder, Catherine Nelson was responsible for welding together the cable splices that made up the longest length of the cable span. Wire cable is produced in limited sections, and often the cable was spliced together with welding, which is among the strongest of the splices, replacing the earlier versions of wire wrapping, and later screw splicing. Welded splices are stronger and more durable than both. Most welding was typically done in a shop setting, but some, as with Catherine Nelson, were done on site. She may have done additional welding while walking the cables, as most of the newspaper stories focus on her working 300 feet up in the air. Once the initial suspension cables were in place, supporting cables for the deck of the bridge could be constructed, which were designed to provide additional support, rigidity, and to spread the weight load across the entire bridge. This particular bridge is said to be unique for its "stiffening truss," located under the deck of the bridge. The bridge was opened on November 29, 1921 to great fanfare. It remains the oldest suspension bridge in the Hudson Valley, predating the longer Bear Mountain Bridge by several years. As for Catherine Nelson? We've yet to find any additional information about her, but if you have any leads, or are a relative with family stories, please let us know in the comments! AuthorSarah Wassberg Johnson is the Director of Exhibits & Outreach at the Hudson River Maritime Museum, where she has worked since 2012. She has an MA in Public History from the University at Albany. 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!
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