History Blog
|
|
This article is part of a series linked to our exhibit: "A New Age Of Sail: The History And Future Of Sail Freight In The Hudson Valley," and tells the stories of sailing cargo ships both modern and historical, on the Hudson River and around the world. Gundalows were iconic wooden cargo vessels that operated primarily on the rivers and bays of the coastal regions of New Hampshire and Southern Maine from the mid-1600’s to the early 1900’s. These vessels evolved to become a practical and efficient method for transporting goods and materials to and from the deep-water port of Portsmouth, NH to the towns that were established in the Piscataqua River watershed and were classified as Piscataqua Gundalows. Considered to be the “18-wheelers” of the that era, gundalows helped to build the economy of the region by carrying raw materials to the various mills and factories in those towns while also facilitating the transport and trade of manufactured items that made their way up and down the East Coast of the United States and to as far away as Europe and the Mediterranean. EARLY YEARS – 1650 to 1800 Early European settlers in the Piscataqua region encountered a vast network of rivers, streams, and bays that had been used for centuries by the indigenous people of the area as resources for food, water and for transportation to and from ocean fishing grounds and their summer and winter encampments. As the area became settled by the Europeans the need for an efficient and timely method of bringing goods and materials to and from the many towns that developed in the watershed rose to a level that necessitated a solution. Roads in the area were nothing more than hunting trails established by indigenous people and were not set up to accommodate horses and carts which would have been the alternative to canoes or boats. Trips on land meant days of travel adding miles to a journey between Portsmouth and a town on Great Bay that could be traversed by water in a matter of hours. Having observed the reliance of the indigenous population on the water as an efficient transportation medium and realizing the swiftness of the tidal current and its periodicity – nearly two flood tides and two ebb tides per day – those involved in the commerce of the region came to conceptualize and develop the first gundalows. Drawing on their experiences in their former homelands and capitalizing on an abundance of building materials, local farmers, fisherman, merchants, and property owners began to build square ended, flat bottomed scows that could be loaded with cargo, floated on the water, and steered with long oars called sweeps. Early gundalows were undecked meaning that they resembled a rowboat or canoe. There were no raised platforms from which to gain a vantage point for steering and all cargo rested on the bottom of the scow. The flat bottoms and wide beams were necessary for trips that spanned more than one tide cycle allowing the gundalow to rest evenly on the exposed mudflats left after the tide ebbed. The flat bottoms also facilitated beaching to load and unload cargo and passengers for there was little infrastructure in the way of wharfs, docks, and quays available in those early days. Sweeps were used to pole the gundalow off the beach at high tide and acted as a rudimentary rudder for steering – like a Venetian gondola from which it is believed that the name gundalow was derived. Gundalows also had shallow drafts (usually < 3 ft) allowing them to reach to the head of the tide in many of the rivers that emptied into Great Bay, Little Bay and the Piscataqua. THE MIDDLE YEARS 1800 to 1860 From about 1800 until 1860, gundalow design changed as more and more people from Europe and the Mediterranean settled in the watershed. After 1800, the square ended scow configuration slowly faded replaced by a rounded stern which accepted a more sophisticated steering system consisting of a fixed rudder with a tiller attachment and a raised platform from which the gundalow captain could see to steer the vessel. The raised platform aft led to a similar platform at the bow from which the crew could look for hazards and landmarks that were used for navigating the treacherous waters of the Piscataqua River. Taking to heart the adage that “time is money”, gundalowmen began to introduce sails on their vessels around 1820, not as a way to steer the boat, but more as a way to gain speed above and beyond that of the fast-moving tidal current. These sails were typically square in shape and mounted on a vertical mast located at the bow. The mast and sail configuration, which was removable, could be turned to take advantage of the wind direction but required crew to work the rigging and stabilize the sail. This method of sailing in the sometimes-narrow river basin was neither quick (tacking and jibing would have been an adventure!) nor efficient and the extra speed could only be gained moving with the current and if the wind was blowing from sailing points abaft the beam. Along with the increased population came the desire to travel across the rivers and streams more efficiently on foot or horse. Bridges sprang up in several places in the watershed in the 1740’s which presented a new challenge for gundalow captains to overcome. The bridges were constructed in locations along the rivers where land masses were relatively close together not usually at the port or dock facilities in the towns served by gundalows. Clearance under the bridges was typically less than 25 feet even at low tide and a gundalow with a square-rigged sail could not travel up or down river with the mast and sail raised beyond where the bridge was erected. This dilemma forced gundalow captains to offload/onload cargo far from its destination or to forego the added speed created by the sail by transiting without the mast and sail raised. THE END YEARS - 1860 TO 1925 Because gundalows were not constructed in shipyards, they were not required to be registered with the local town, county or state governments. Many farmers, fisherman and property owners built gundalows without plans making up or changing the designs as they went to take advantage of improvements adopted by other gundalow builders. While the standard characteristics of gundalows remained uniform – flat bottom, wide beam, shallow draft, square rigged sail and tall vertical mast – other innovations were added to improve gundalow operations. These innovations such as adding cuddy cabins for the captain and crew to shelter in overnight or when the weather made it difficult to operate and changing the steering system to include a ships wheel connected to a drum that turned the rudder with a system of block and tackles located on the deck, were commonplace as gundalows multiplied in the Piscataqua watershed. It is estimated that over 1,000 gundalows were being used on the Piscataqua River and in the tributaries that fed Great Bay and Little Bay at some point in the 1800’s. Unfortunately for the entrepreneurial spirit of the gundalow captains there was one challenge that they could not overcome. With the introduction of the steam engine and subsequently railroads, a faster, more reliable mode of transporting goods and materials started to take over. The first railroad to reach New Hampshire established a train station in the town of Dover in 1832. Ironically, with the growth of rail transportation, infrastructure such as railroad bridges and train depots were needed to keep up with the popularity of the new transportation system. Gundalows were used extensively to deliver the materials needed to build that infrastructure unwittingly helping to diminish the reliance on those vessels as the rail system grew to take over their role. During this final phase of gundalow building one innovation stands out because it helped to overcome the problem of getting up or down river where a bridge had been built. Drawing on ship designs such as dhows and feluccas from the Mediterranean and the Middle East, a lateen rig was adopted by many gundalow owners. The lateen rig eliminated the tall vertical mast and square sail of earlier models and replaced it with a system that incorporated a shorter stump mast (approximately 20 ft high) and a long yard that was fixed to the mast at an angle with a block and tackle allowing the yard to be lowered and raised. With this rig, gundalow captains could now “shoot bridges” meaning they could lower the yard to the deck as they approached a bridge, “shoot” under the bridge, and raise the yard and sail back to its sailing position once they were clear. Even with this innovation, “shooting bridges” required a mastery of river conditions, vessel speed, and maneuverability because there were no other methods of propulsion to help steer the gundalow under the bridge. The last operating gundalow was launched in 1886 at Adams Point in Durham, NH. She was named Fannie M after the wife of her builder, Captain Edward H. Adams. Adams was a major force in gundalow design and construction. His innovative approach to the building of these vessels resulted in the classification of gundalows that operated in the watershed as Piscataqua River gundalows. These gundalows incorporated many of the innovations that have been described in previous paragraphs, but it was the ships wheel/tiller steering mechanism, the lateen sailing rig, and the spoon bow that set Piscataqua gundalows apart from gundalows operating in other parts of New England. The Fannie M. operated until 1925 far exceeding the typical lifespan of past gundalows and was beached along the shoreline (as were most gundalows that had exceeded their usefulness) at Adams Point in Durham, NH. Shortly after that, Captain Adams having the foresight to understand the impact that gundalows had on the history, heritage, and economy of the region, participated in a WPA (Works Progress Administration) effort to document the sailing and motor vessels in various regions throughout the country. Measurements taken from the many journals that Captain Adams kept for his gundalow construction projects, including the Fannie M, were used to create formal drawings that are now housed in the Smithsonian Institute preserving the legacy of the Piscataqua Gundalow. 20th and 21st Century Gundalows Captain Adams was not done building gundalows after the Fannie M was taken out of service. In 1931, he and his son Cass, set about designing and building a new type of gundalow which would carry only passengers and incorporated a gas-powered engine to propel the vessel. Over the next 19-yrs, Adams and Cass would work on the gundalow in their spare time using driftwood found along the shoreline of their property on Great Bay to fashion the hull and deck. Finally, in October of 1950, the new design, aptly named Driftwood, was ready for launch. Built with a deeper draft which allowed enough headroom for passengers in the cuddy cabin to stand when the weather was poor, the new gundalow also shed its lateen sailing rig using the engine from a Model-A Ford for propulsion. Launch day saw hundreds of people from the local community turn out to the Adams property along Great Bay. Speeches were made and a bottle of champagne was broken across the cutwater (bow). Driftwood slid down the ship ways and into Great Bay. The engine started and she motored out towards the middle of the bay for a test run of her steering and speed. Unfortunately, the valve that allowed water to circulate through the engine to cool it was left closed and after about 45 minutes the engine seized and would not restart. Driftwood was towed back to shore and hauled up on the beach next to the ship ways. She remained there never to sail again. Five months later Captain Adams passed away at age 91. Gundalows were not completely forgotten after the passing of Captain Adams. In 1978, several wooden boatbuilders in the Piscataqua region some of whom were apprentices to Capt. Adams, got together with the Strawbery Banke Museum and remembering the importance of these vessels to the history and the economy of the region developed a plan to build a replica of the Fannie M. Their objective was to use the replica as a floating classroom to educate the young people of the Piscataqua region about their rich maritime heritage, the importance of gundalows, and overall, the importance of a clean environment to the sustainability of the watershed. The CAPT Edward H. Adams was built on the grounds of the Strawbery Banke Museum and launched in 1982. Being a replica and keeping with the design of Piscataqua Gundalows in the late 1880’s, the new gundalow was not certified to carry paying passengers on the water. Instead, she was towed from town to town in the watershed where festivals celebrating the rivers and bays of the region were held. Local schools brought classes of students down to where the Adams was docked for onboard education programs and tours of the gundalow, concerts, and other maritime related events. In 1999, Strawbery Banke Museum deaccessioned the Adams because of the cost required to maintain a gundalow that had far exceeded its life expectancy. The group of volunteers that had been conducting the education programs on the Adams got together and formed the Gundalow Company. The Gundalow Company took ownership of the Adams and through fundraising and grants raised the funds to keep her running. Over the next 8 years the Adams continued to serve the Seacoast community but the officers and directors of the Gundalow Company realized that she was reaching the limit of her useful life. In 2009 a decision was made to build a second replica, but this time the organization made a conscious decision to build a gundalow that would be able to bring students, residents, and visitors to the area out for trips recreating the gundalow experience of sailing on the Piscataqua River, Great and Little Bay and the other rivers in the watershed. A capital campaign was started and materials for the build were purchased and assembled on the grounds of Strawbery Banke where in early 2011 construction of the successor to the Captain Edward Adams began. In early December of that year and after countless hours put in by professional shipwrights, boat builders and volunteers, the gundalow Piscataqua was launched from the boat ramp at Peirce Island in Portsmouth, NH. Piscataqua met all USCG safety regulations which included the installation of a 25 HP diesel engine, lifelines, a fire suppression system, and automated bilge alarms. Following her launch, she completed her fitting out with the installation of her lateen sailing rig and in May 2012 sailed with her first class of local school students. Since that time, she has sailed with over 75,000 passengers including 25,000 plus students and summer campers, and 50,000 residents and visitors to the Seacoast NH and ME areas, all with the mission of protecting the maritime heritage and the environment of the Piscataqua Region through education and action. To read more about Piscataqua, gundalows in general, and the mission of the Gundalow Company please visit gundalow.org AuthorRich Clyborne is the Executive Director of the Gundalow Company of Portsmouth, New Hampshire. 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!
0 Comments
Editor's note: The following text was originally published in 1793 from the newspapers listed below. Thanks to volunteer researcher George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. HMS "Iris" dismasted by the French Frigate "Citoyenne-Francaise" 13 May 1793. Thomas Luny, date unknown. Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons. While no images of the fight described in these reports are available, this scene depicts a similar combat between similar ships in 1793. Both are single-deck frigates engaging, with the British getting the worst of it. Note the tendency in naval engagements in the age of sail to target the rigging as much as possible to immobilize the target. British Orders to Engage the French Frigate received. "Boston", August 5. The master of a vessel lately arrived at Newport from Jamaica, on his passage spoke with Captain Courtnay, commander of his Britannic Majesty's frigate "Boston", of 32 guns, who informed him, that he had positive orders to cruise near the Sound until he met the French frigate "l'Embuscade" --------- Further accounts state, that the "Boston" had arrived at the Hook, and that the commander had sent up a challenge to Capt. Bompard, of the "l'Embuscade", and informed him that he should be there about three days in waiting for him, and that he wished much to see him. Capt Bompard was preparing to meet him. Diary; or, Loudon's Register, August 8, 1793, p. 3, col. 2 "L'Embuscade Frigate". We the subscribers do certify, are ready to make oath, if required, that have been hailed by, and obliged to go on board his Britannic Majesty's frigate the "Boston", on the 29th of July last, Capt. Courtnay, the commander thereof, requested us to inform Citizen Bompard (meaning the Captain of the French frigate "l'Embuscade") "That he would be glad to see -- and was then waiting for him," or words fully to that import. And we further certify that a mid-ship-man of the "Boston", who came in the boat with us until he was near Governor's-Island, assured us, "that the "Boston" was fitted out for the express purpose of fighting and taking the "Ambuscade"; and that Capt. Courtnay had on that account been permitted to take on board, at Halifax, as large a number of extra seamen, as he thought proper. Peter Deschent, C. Orset, Esq., Andrew Allen. Diary; or, Loudon's Register (New York, N. Y.), August 6, 1793, p. 3, col. 1 [the "Esq." added in pen] Challenge Issued! Capt. Dennis, of the United States revenue cutter "Vigilant", came up on Sunday evening from Sandy Hook: He informs us that at 4 P. M. of the afternoon of said day, 2 leagues E. by S. of the Hook, spoke the British frigate "Boston", of 32 guns, commanded by Capt. Courtnay, having in company with him a small schooner of 8 guns. -- Capt. Courtnay, informed Capt. Dennis he wou'd be very happy to see the French Republic's frigate "L'Embuscade", Citizen [?] Bompard, at any time within five days: -- (If we are to judge from appearances on board the "l'Embuscade", it is more than probably he will be gratified with a sight of her.) The following note was on the Coffee-house book yesterday afternoon: -- "Citizen Bompar's compliments wait Capt. Courtnay -- will meet him agreeable to invitation -- hopes to find him at the Hook to-morrow. -- dated Monday, July 29th. We hear that nine vessels are chartered by different parties for the Hook, in order to see the action between the "L'Embuscade" and the "Boston" frigate. Daily Advertiser (New York, N. Y.), July 30, 1793, p. 2, col. 5 - p. 3, col. 1 Challenge Accepted! Spectators Gather! FOR SANDY HOOK For the purpose of carrying Passengers. The beautiful and fast sailing Schooner "EXPERIMENT", Charles Buckley, Master, Will sail as soon as the French frigate "l'Embuscade" gets under way. For passage apply to the master on board. It is desired of those who wish for a passage to call by 10 o'clock. Said schooner lies at Jone's new Wharf. July 30. D Advertiser, July 30, 1793, p. 3, col. 1 Please insert the following, and oblige many of your customers: We hear that a number of boats are engaged, for the purpose of conveying some of the lovers of Royalty, who reside among us, on board His Most Gracious Majesty's Frigate "Boston", now cruising off Sandy Hook, to congratulate the Right Honorable Mr. Courtnay, on his safe arrival in these latitudes. The Whigs of New-York, will do well to mark those men who are most forward on this business, for it is too true, that we harbour miscreants among us, who will scarce treat a Frenchman with common civility in the street, and yet will go 40 or 50 miles to make obeisance to a titled Briton -- Mark these men, I say. DEMOCRAT. Diary; or, Loudon's Register (New York, N. Y.), July 29, 1793, p. 3, col. 1; When Citizen Bompard or the "l'Embuscade", received the invitation from the British Frigate, "Boston", for a visit at the Hook, he immediately put every thing in train to visit his honourable friend, Capt. Courtnay. Yesterday and the day before, all hands were busied on board the "l'Embuscade"; and being in complete order, she weighed anchor, at 5 o'clock this morning, and fell down with the tide, round the Battery and was obliged to anchor in the North River, the tide being spent, and the wind ahead; lay there till past three o'clock this afternoon -- It is expected she will weigh anchor in the course of the afternoon, and must beat down against the wind, he, and all hands on board, being eager to pay their respectful salutations to Capt. Courtney, who they say is impatiently waiting for Capt. Bompard. It is not thought improbable but that Capt. Courtney, with the "Boston", may visit New York before he leaves the coast; others wish that Capt. Bompard may visit Halifax, at the company of the French people is not well relished by some people here. How that may turn out, we may hear is two or three days. Some think, that as a fleet of French ships are hourly expected here from Baltimore, the visit my be interrupted. Number of gentlemen are gone to the Hook, as witnesses to the important visit of these two Commanders, belonging to the two greatest nations on earth. Diary; or, Loudon's Register (New York, N. Y.), July 30, 1793, p. 3, col. 3; The following LETTER was transmitted by Citizen BOMPARD, to Captain Courtnay, of the British frigate "Boston", on hearing that the latter "would be happy to see him at the Hook." "On board of the French republic's frigate, "L'Embuscade", 29th of July, 1793, the 2d year of the Republic. "SIR, "I have received an invitation by a sloop which you boarded yesterday, to sail out of this harbour and fight your frigate; I should not have hesitated a moment to comply with your wishes (which seems to me only ostensible) had you conveyed your challenge in the mode that honour prescribes. Upon an occasion of this kind, I should have written to the opposite commandant, and have pledged my honour, that I was unattended by any other armed vessell, and that I would not employ any artifice or strategem, unbecoming the character of a brave and candid soldier; as you have conducted yourself in a different manner, you must be sensible that I cannot consistently with my duty, expose the brave man I have the honour to command, on vague and unauthenticated reports. "Therefore, sir, if you are really the brave man, you pretend to be, pursue the above measures, and as soon as I receive your answer, shall do myself the honour of waiting upon you. (Signed.) BOMPARD, Captain-Commander of the "L'Embuscade "N. B. Citizen Bompard, having not received an answer to the above letter, resolved however not to disappoint the martial ardor of Captain Courtnay, and accordingly has sailed this morning out of the harbor to wait upon him." Grand Naval Combat. The following information is given us by one of the hands belonging to the Pilot Boat Hound, of this port: --- On Wednesday night last, about 8 o'clock, the pilot boat fell in with, to the southward of the Hook, the two frigates "L'Embuscade" and "Boston", standing on one course, and took a birth between the two until towards day light, when the boat sheered off out the reach of their guns, and lay to. After day light the "L'Embuscade" fired a gun and hoisted the National flag of France, which was shortly after hoisted by the British frigate. The "L'Embuscade" then bore down upon the "Boston", both ships being then between the Grove and the Woodlands, distant about 5 leagues S. E. of the Hook. The "Boston" endeavoured several times to get to windward of the "L'Embuscade", but not being able to accomplish her point, she was obliged to come to close action precisely at 37 minutes past five o'clock, A. M. The action continued from that time until half past seven -- during the course of which the "L'Embuscade's" colours were shot away, which induced our informant to suppose she had struck, but shortly hoisted them again. In a little time the same accident happened to the "Boston", which was as soon replaced. The "L'Embuscade" attempted to board the "Boston", but failed. About 7 o'clock the fire from the "L'Embuscade" was somewhat slackened, but seemed to be renewed from the "Boston", when a shot from the "L'Embuscade" struck the main-top-mast of the "Boston", and carried it overboard; on which she immediately ceased firing, crouded all the sail she could and ran off -- the "L'Embuscade" fired three guns more at her as a token of Victory, and as soon as she could get underway to follow the "Boston", of which she was delayed in about half an hour, owing to her rigging and sails being very much mutilated) she gave her chace, which out informant assures us she continued till past nine o'clock, when both ships were out of sight. --- They were both steering to the southward. (The above account is corroborated by the information of another person who was on board the pilot boat "Hound", and saw the whole action very distinctly with the naked eye.) Daily Advertiser (New York, N. Y.), August 2, 1793, p. 3, col. 1; Another Account. Thursday morning, August 1st, 1793, on board sloop "Friendship", Capt. Peterson, (a Newport Packet.) AT 6 o'clock, A. M. distant four miles from the Hook. Got under way immediately and sailed towards the vessels; at half past 6 o'clock, discovered them to be engaged a cable's length assunder, at 45 minutes past 6 o'clock saw the windward ship (the "L'Embuscade") had lost the fore-top-sail-tie. Both ships standing W at 50 minutes past 6 o'clock, the leeward ship "Boston" lost her main-top-mast, and the head of her main-mast also apparently carried away. At 55 minutes past 6 o'clock, the firing ceased, both ships appearing to be repairing their damages, when the "Boston" bore off, before the wind (S. W.) At 8 minutes past 7 o'clock the "L'Embuscade" bore down to engage again. 20 minutes past 7, saw the British union flying in the mizen shrouds of the crippled ship -- the national colours flying at the mizen peak of the "L'Embuscade". At 35 minutes past 7 o'clock saw the "Boston", with studding sails alow and aloft, making every effort to get off -- The "L'Embuscade" still repairing, but making what sail she could to follow. At 8 o'clock the "Boston", under full sail still, was about a league a head of the "L'Embuscade", steering S. W. about 9 knots an hour; The latter carrying a foresail, a fore-topsail a foretop-gallant-sail, main-top-sail and mizen-topsail set, the main sail loose. At 20 minutes past 8 o'clock, . . . the ships 1 1-2 league asunder, the "L'Embuscade having set her bower studding sails; at 33 minutes past 9 o'clock, could just discern the "L'Embuscade"; at 50 minutes past 9 o'clock, discerned the "Boston", from the mast head, the "L'Embuscade" still pursuing, and overhawling the "Boston". Diary; or, Loudon's Register (New York, N. Y.), August 2, 1793, p. 3, col. 4 French Fleet. Last Evening, the French Fleet which has been so long expected from the Chesapeake, arrived in this port, consisting of 15 sail. On their approach toward the city, the citizens, to the number of several thousands, collected on the battery, to welcome them to our port. After they had come to anchor off the battery, the Admiral, accompanied by several other officers, came on shore in the barge, and waited on his Excellency the Governor, at the government house; a few moments after which the Admiral's ship fired a salute, which was immediately answered from our battery, with three cheers from the amazing concourse attending. L'Embuscade Frigate. What greatly added to the beauty of this scene was the arrival of the "L'Embuscade", from her cruise -- as she approached, the people assembled were at a loss how to express their joy, having heard of the gallant behavior of Citizen Bompard, the commander, and his crew -- continued shouts and huzzas were vociferated, which were returned from on board, until she had passed into the East River. We have just learnt, that only 7 men were killed, and 10 wounded in the engagement, which was incessant for three glasses, in which time both ships were much burnt in their rigging, and the main top mast of the "Boston" was carried away before the wind, was pursued by the "L'Embuscade", but out sailing her, the "L'Embuscade" abandoned her fell in with, and took a Portuguese brig, richly laden, and has thus safely arrived to the Universal joy of their brethren in this city. A great variety of accounts have been handed the public on the subject of the battle between the "L'Embuscade" and "Boston", all of which agree, that the arrogant Capt. Courtnay, of the "Boston", received a most severe drubbing from the gallant Captain Bompard, of the "L'Embuscade". Diary; or, Loudon's Register (New York, N. Y.), August 3, 1793, p. 3, col. 1, from N-Y Journal We are favored through a Correspondent with the following relation of the late action between the frigates "L'Embuscade" and "Boston" given by an Officer who was on board the former of these ships. "Though the Challenge given by Capt. Courtnay to Capt. Bompard, on the 29th ult. has become a topic of common conversation, I mean not to enter into a discussion of the propriety or impropriety thereof, but only state facts, leaving each candid Republican in this Land to decide as he thinks proper, on the final event. I cannot help observing that on the morning of the day when the challenge was received, the Crew of the "L'Embuscade" had been permitted to make a holiday; notwithstanding which, as soon as they received information of this uncommon and unexpected summons, assembled with a distinguished cheerfulness and zeal, worthy of the cause in which they were engaged; for, though the situation of the frigate would on common occasions have required the work of three days to fit her for sea, she nevertheless, by their extraordinary exertions, weighed anchor in twenty-four hours. Owing to contrary winds, we did not reach Sandy-Hook till the 31st ult. at two o'clock, P. M. when the Captain ordered to steer to the eastward, in anxious expectation of seeing his antagonist at the place of rendezvous, but we did not find him there. Capt. Bompard, stimulated by the natural feelings of a soldier, to gratify Captain Courtnay in his wish, steered on the eastward five leagues farther, in hopes of meeting this new champion of chivalry, and at four in the morning of the 1st of August, having then our larboard tacks on board, seeing at the same time an English brig, at which we fired a gun, and hoisted our national colours, when the brig wore and hauled her wind, on the same tack with the ship, which we were then convinced was a frigate, with French colours flying. On this, Captain Bompard ordered the private signal to be made, which not being answered by the other, left no room to doubt that she was our challenging rival. In our approach to each other, the Boston endeavored to get to windward, but without success, at last we got so close, that Captain Courtnay relinquished his disguise, substituting in its room, the royal colors. This was at three-quarters past five, when Captain Bompard in his jacket, came forward, and sundry times, in a very loud voice, called Captain Courtnay by name, who, instead of a common reply, very politely answered with a broadside. A Thousand Huzzas! A Thousand cries of Vive la Republique Francoise! announced to the Georgists of Halifax, the impression which their royal artillery made on the hearts of Republicans!!! The crew of the "Boston" was silent, and the netting prevented us seeing the face of her noble Commander. The "L'Embuscade" permitted the "Boston" to shoot ahead, and then attempted to put about, but missing stays, continued on the same tack. The "Boston" then wore, when the "L'Embuscade" backed her main and mizen topsail, and as she passed began her fire; it was not quick, but time will probably prove that it was well directed. The fight continued till three quarters past seven, when a shot carrying away the "Boston's" main top-mast, she instantly wore and made tail before the wind. She must have suffered severely, and we were so much crippled in our masts and rigging, our braces, bowlings, &c. being cut to pieces, that it was some time before we could wear, not could we work the ship with the same dispatch the enemy did. The enemy by this means had gained a considerable distance from us, being still before the wind with all the sail she could possibly crowd; but we found that the state of our masts would not admit of a press of sail, we nevertheless continued the chase till 11 o'clock, when seeing that we had no chance of coming up, and discovering at same time a Portuguese brig, within two miles of the "Boston", we made sail after and captured her, as a proof of our victory and the enemy's defeat We then hove to till the necessary repairs were completed, and afterwards made the best of our way for New-York. We had seven men killed in action, and fifteen wounded. Our people say, they was a number of men thrown overboard from the English frigate; their wounded we have great reason to believe are numerous, as our fire, during the whole of the action, was directed with that deliberate coolness, characteristic of Republican valor. The fire of the "Boston" did much more damage to our rigging than to our hull, and . . . in contradiction to the rules of war, generally adhered to by civilized nations, they fired at us a quantity of old iron, nails, broken knives, broken pots, and broken bottles -- a mode of warfare with which their enemy was then, and I hope ever will be unacquainted. It may be proper to mention, that Capt. Bompard endeavored to board the enemy, in which case broken bottles would have proved of little service, but this the British Captain prudently avoided; whether, when all the circumstances of the challenge are taken into view, his nation will promote him for this act of wisdom: I cannot say, it would be difficult to say, whether the cool deliberate courage, or the innocent cheerful gaiety of the citizens of the "L'Embuscade", was most conspicuous during the engagement. Those who had never been in action before, were astonished to behold what little effect a broad side was attended with. I will say nothing of our intrepid Captain, it would be doing him an injury to attempt his praise. Our ship's colours, torn as they were at the close of the action, have been presented to the Tammany Society of this city, as a token of that respect which those virtuous patriots merit, in our opinion, from their Republican Brethren of France. Diary; or, Loudon's Register, August 6, 1793, p. 3, cols. 1-2; PHILADELPHIA, August 2. "L'EMBUSCADE" FRIGATE. Extract of a letter from a gentleman at Long Branch to his friend in this city, dated August 1, 1795. "This morning we were gratified with the view of an action between "L'Embuscade" and an English frigate of about the same size, which is said to have come from Halifax, on purpose to attack her. The action began at about half after five this morning, and lasted till near seven, the firing was tremendous, and both vessels during the action appeared at time to be much in confusion. At length the French ship shot away the main-top-gallant mast of the English man, and that shot appeared to decide the fate of the battle, for she immediately bore off. The "L'Embuscade" had her sails clued up, and appears willing to attack, provided the other does not run away. She has, however, beat the English ship completely. Daily Advertiser, August 6, 1793, p. 2, col. 3 New-York, August 3. About 7 o'clock last evening came up and anchored in the East river, amid the repeated huzzas of the citizens of New-York, the French frigate "L'EMBUSCADE". We have been enabled only to gain a few particulars of the action between her and the "Boston", for this day's paper -- the whole of which we hope to lay before our readers on Monday: It appears that the action commenced about the same time, and ended in nearly the same manner as mentioned in our paper of yesterday -- that the "l'Embuscade" chased the "Boston" about five hours to the Southward, when owing to the shattered condition of her sails and rigging, and espying a Portuguese Brig off, she gave over chasing the "Boston" frigate, and pursued the Brig which she captured and brought to this city. The Frigate "L'Embuscade" had six men killed and twelve men wounded, but they supposed the number of killed and woulded on board the "Boston" must have been much more, as they saw her throw 21 bodies overboard during the chase; her pumps were kept constantly going. It is supposed Capt. Courtnay is among the slain. The "L'Embuscade's" masts are so full of shot holes that she will be obliged to replace the whole with new ones. General Advertiser (Philadelphia, Pa.), August 6, 1793, p. 2, col. An English visitor's account The day of my first arrival in New York was rendered memorable by the severe engagement which took place off Sandy Hook, between the "Boston" and the "Ambuscade". We heard distinctly the broadsides as we passed down Long Island Sound, but knew not on what account they were fired. This battle being premeditated on the part of the French, various were the conjectures respecting the cause, and I therefore took some pains to gain correct information. The "Ambuscade", a large 44 gun frigate, had been some time lying opposite to New York, and it was known that the "Boston" was stationed on the outside of Sandy Hook. Captain Bompard, who commanded the "Ambuscade", had given no intimation of his intended departure, until, on a sudden, preparations were made to go out, and a report was spread that Captain Courtenay, the British commander, had sent him a challenge. The circumstance which gave rise to the report was this: A pilot-boat had carried some provisions to the "Boston", and as the pilot was returning down the side of the ship to his boat, a young midshipman said to him, "give our compliments to Captain Bompard, and tell him we shall be glad of his company on this side the Hook." This lost nothing by the way in being communicated to the French commander, who was even told that it was a direct challenge from Captain Courtenay. It soon spread over New York, and the French faction began to feel ashamed that their ship should be blockaded, and thus challenged to come out, by an enemy so inferior in force. This was a spur to Bompard, who, having taken on board a number of American seamen that had offered themselves as volunteers, he promised to chastise the haughty foe. He accordingly went out, attended by a great number of vessels and boats crowded with Americans to witness the fight. The "Boston" soon descried the enemy, and was observed to alter her tacks and to prepare for battle, which soon began on the part of the French, while her antagonist waited her neared approach. The Gallic-Americans assembled on the occasion had already begun to persuade themselves that the little "Boston" was declining an engagement, when she opened a tremendous and incessant fire. I was informed, so rapid were her broadsides, that she gave three to two received from her enemy during the whole engagement. In the heat of battle the brave Captain Courtenay was killed, and the first lieutenant of the "Boston" badly wounded. The latter, having passed through the surgeon's hands, was brought on deck, and proved an able substitute for his deceased captain during the remainder of the bloody conflict. The mainmast of the "Ambuscade" was shot through, and could barely be supported by the shrouds -- a breeze would have carried it by the board. The "Boston" having lost her fore-top-mast, she put about to replace it, and soon after descrying the French fleet from St. Domingo, she made sail towards Halifax, while the "Ambuscade" declined following, happy, no doubt, in getting back. The Democrats set up the cry of victory, and they publicly rejoiced at what I thought a discomfiture. Next morning I mixed among a group going on board the "Ambuscade", and there, for the only time, saw the horrid issue of battle. The decks were still in parts covered with blood -- large clots lay here and there where the victim had expired. The mast, divested of splinters, I could have crept through; and her sides were perforated with balls. I shrunk from this scene of horror, though amongst the enemies of my native country. The wounded were landed, and sent to the hospital. I counted thirteen on pallets, and double that number less severely wounded. Nothing but commiseration resounded through the streets, while the ladies tore their chemises to bind up the wounds. Advertisements were actually issued for linen for that purpose, and surgeons and nurses repaired to the sick ward. The French officers would not acknowledge the amount of their slain. I calculate the proportion to the wounded must have been at least twenty. I afterwards went on board the "Jupiter", a line of battle ship, and one of the St. Domingo squadron. The sons of equality were a dirty ragged creww, and their ship was very filthy. I witnessed Bompard's triumphal landing the day after the engagement. He was hailed by the gaping infatuated mob with admiration, and received by a number of the higher order of Democrats with exultation. They feasted him, and gave entertainments in honour of his asserted victory. He was a very small elderly man, but dressed like a first-rate beau, and doubtless fancied himself upon this occasion six feet high! At this moment I verily believe the mob would have torn me piecemeal had I been pointed at as a stranger just arrived from England. I ground this supposition on the fact of a British lieutenant of the navy having been insulted the same day at the Tontine coffee-house; but he escaped farther injury by jumping over the iron railing in front of the house. The flags of the sister republics were entwined in the public room. Some gentleman secretly removed the French ensign, on which rewards were offered for a discovery of the offender, but he remained in secret. Charles William Janson. The Stranger in America. London, 1807. pp. 428-31. 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!
As we approach the opening of our new exhibit, "A New Age of Sail: The History and Future of Sail Freight on the Hudson River," we thought we'd introduce this classic folk song about a collier named Nightingale by Stan Rogers. In it, a brave captain sacrifices himself to save his crew. Rogers was a Canadian folk singer who wrote "The Flowers of Bermuda" in 1978, apparently based on a true story. He wrote of the song, "I took my first trip to Bermuda in May, 1978 and loved it. While I was there, I discovered that the whole area around Bermuda is a kind of ship graveyard. I found a map showing the location of most of the known wrecks and discovered that a coal carrier called the Nightingale sank off the North Rock in the early 1880s. The rest of the details are pure invention, except for the fact that Bermuda is lovely." There was in fact a collier named Nightingale, although she foundered in the North Atlantic in the 1890s, not Bermuda in the 1880s. However, North Rock Reef in Bermuda was home to several shipwrecks, and you can still dive some today. Stephen Winick of Sing Out! magazine looked further into the history of Rogers' song and ship, and may have found the real vessel that inspired the song. Colliers were important cargo sailing vessels throughout the 19th and 20th centuries as they were able to ship coal without using any of it to fuel themselves. Bermuda was an important coaling station for the British Royal Navy's steamships and so the semi-fictional Nightingale would have been bringing coal from England or the United States to resupply the coaling station at Bermuda. Early steamships could not carry enough coal to go long distances without refueling, so stations like Bermuda were crucial to Naval operations. The Flowers Of Bermuda by Stan Rogers He was the captain of the Nightingale Twenty-One days from clyde in coal. He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale, When he died on the North Rock Shoal. Just five short hours from Bermuda, in a fine October gale, There came a cry "O there be breakers dead ahead!" From the Collier Nightingale. No sooner had the captain brought her round, Came a rending crash below. Hard on her beam ends groaning went the Nightingale, And overside her mainmast goes. He was the captain of the Nightingale Twenty-One days from clyde in coal. He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale, When he died on the North Rock Shoal. "O Captain are we all for drowning?" Came the cry from all the crew. "The boats be smashed, How are we all then to be saved? They are stove in through and through." Oh, are ye brave and hearty collier men? Or are ye blind and cannot see? The captain's gig still lies before ye whole and sound. It shall carry all O' we. He was the captain of the Nightingale Twenty-One days from clyde in coal. He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale, When he died on the North Rock Shoal. But when the crew was all assembled, And the gig prepared for sea, Twas seen there were but eighteen places to be manned, Nineteen mortal souls were we. But cries the captain "now do ye not delay, Nor do ye spare a thought for me, My duty is to save ye all now if I can, See ye return quick as can be." He was the captain of the Nightingale Twenty-One days from clyde in coal. He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale, When he died on the North Rock Shoal. Oh there be flowers in Bermuda. Beauty lies on every hand. And there be laughter, ease, and drink for every man, But there is no joy for me. For when we reached the wretched Nightingale, What an awful sight was plain, The captain drowned, lay tangled in the mizzen chain, Smiling bravely beneath the sea. He was the captain of the Nightingale Twenty-One days from clyde in coal. He could smell the flowers of Bermuda in the gale, When he died on the North Rock Shoal. To learn more about colliers and other sail freight vessels, be sure to check out "A New Age of Sail: The History and Future of Sail Freight on the Hudson River," opening Sunday, May 22, 2022! If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today! In 1964, New York hosted the World's Fair. The theme was "Peace Though Understanding." As part of the festivities, an unusual sight was to be seen in New York Harbor that summer - a sight likely not seen for at least a few decades (although probably less time than most spectators would expect) - a gathering of large square-rigged vessels from all over the world. Operation Sail - also known as OpSail - was founded as a non-profit in 1961 and coordinates international sailing events centered around promoting goodwill and cooperation between nations as well as celebrating maritime history and sail training efforts around the world. The 1964 World's Fair was OpSail's inaugural event. On July 14, 1964, a parade of some of the world's last windjammers took place through New York Harbor. British Pathe covered the event: "Gathering of Great Ships" by Anthony Anable, Jr. The Jan-June, 1964 issue of Boating magazine included the following article describing the origins and plans for the 1964 OpSail: On July 14th, if the wind is fair, New York Harbor will be treated to a sight not seen in over half a century; a fleet of square-rigged ships slipping in under thousands of square feet of sail. As they pick up their moorings in the river, they will be completing a history-making voyage that for most of them began in Lisbon six weeks ago. "Operation Sail" will be the largest rendezvous of square-riggers - now mostly maritime training vessels - assembled in any port in modern times. As of this writing, 13 countries will send some 25 sailing craft to participate in "Operation Sail," and by the time July 14th - the rendezvous date - rolls around it is hoped that the latter figure will be doubled. While the fleet will consist of all manner of ships, boats and yachts, the most spectacular sight will be ten, or more, full-rigged ships, barks, brigantines and topsail schooners towering above their smaller sisters as they move up the river. Nations sending vessels are, in alphabetical order: Argentina, the full-rigged ship Libertad and the yacht Fortuna; Canada, the privately-owned brigantine St. Lawrence II; Chile, the four-masted schooner Esmerelda; Republic of China (no training ship, but a contingent of midshipmen and a 70-foot junk from San Francisco); Denmark, the bark Danmark; Dominican Republic, the bark Patria; Germany, the bark Gorch Fock; Great Britain, (two yachts, as yet unspecified); and Italy, the yawl Corsaro II. Also Japan, a motor training ship; Norway, either one or all of the Christian Radich, the Sorlandet and the Staatsraad Lemkuhl, all full-rigged ships; Panama, the three-masted schooner Wandia; Portugal, the full-rigged ship Sagres; and Spain, the four-masted schooner Juan Sebastian de Elcano. Undecided as of this writing are Sweden's Albatross; Poland's three-masted schooner Iskra; Romania's bark Mircea; and Nova Scotia's Bluenose II, a replica of the original fisherman owned by Col. Victor deB. Oland. The United States will be represented by the bark Eagle from the Coast Guard Academy, which will be the host ship; the Icefire and Mariner from the Merchant Marine Academy; Freedom and Royono from the Naval Academy; the brigantine Tabor Boy from Tabor Academy, Marion, Mass.; and the bark Joseph Conrad and the schooners L. A. Dunston and Brilliant from Mystic Seaport, Mystic, Conn. Operation Sail grew from one man's dream Nils Hansell, an ardent yachtsman and Art Director of the IBM Journal of Research and Development, was among an admiring crowd gazing at the Coast Guard's stately bark Eagle lying along a New York City dock in the early spring of 1960. He wondered to himself what it would be like if most, if not all, of the square-riggers in the world were to convene in New York Harbor and then participate in the ceremonies to be held in the city and at the grounds of the World's Fair. Contronted with Nils' idea, the Coast Guard and the State Department were among the first to endorse the proposal. An "Operation Sail" committee was formed and included Hansell, Frank O. Braynard, Director of Information for Moran Towing and Transportation Co., and Commodore John S. Baylis, former Superintendent of the New York State Maritime College and a retired Coast Guard officer. General Chairman of "Operation Sail" is John J. Bergen, Rear Admiral USNR (Ret.); Chairman of the Executive Committee is the well-known yachtsman Walter S. Gubelmann. Further endorsement came from many sources including New York Governor Nelson A. Rockefeller, who sent out invitations to more than 20 countries requesting participation; New York Senator Jacob K. Javits; New York City Mayor Robert F. Wagner; General Dwight D. Eisenhower; Capt. Alan Villiers, skipper of Mayflower II; Edouard A. Stackpole, Curator of Mystic Seaport; and Prince Philip of England. Also endorsing "Operation Sail" are the federally-sponsored People-to-People Program; the Sail Training Association of London; and most recently, the late President John F. Kennedy. Impressive as are these, and other endorsements, the success of "Operation Sail" will be due to the efforts of Braynard, Baylis and Hansell, all of whom have given freely of their time and money to arrange the whole program. A trans-Atlantic race will begin many events The program will begin on June 5th with a race from Lisbon, Portugal to Bermuda. Sponsored by the Sail Training Association, there will be four classes of vessels competing; Class Ia for square-rigged vessels of 500 tons and over; Class Ib for square-rigged vessels between 50-499 tons; Class II for fore-and-aft rigged vessels of 50 tons and over; and Class III for fore-and-aft rigged vessels under 50 tons and over 30 feet on the waterline. Those ships participating in the race will convene with others at Bermuda and will embark in company for New York City, where they are expected to arrive on July 12th. They will lie at anchor off Graves End for two days, until the fleet is complete, and on July 14th will set sail and head out to sea for about 10 miles for the benefit of press photographers and the huge spectator fleet which is expected to cluster about the windjammers. The flotilla will then come about, make for the Narrows, and will enter New York Harbor and the Hudson River. Whether they will be able to sail up the river is anybody's guess at the moment, but if a fair wind fails to materialize the ships will power, or be towed, along the parade route. Upon making fast to moorings assigned to them, all hands will take up review positions on deck and the yardarms as the Reviewing Vessel proceeds along the formation. Although not yet assigned, either the Navy's Enterprise, the country's newest carrier, or Mystic Seaport's Joseph Conrad, the maritime museum's famed square-rigger, may be the Reviewing Vessel. Whichever wins the honor, she will have an impressive company of dignitaries striding her decks, including the President of the United States, the Governor of the State of New York, the Mayor of New York City, several Ambassadors, distinguished guests, and reviewing officers. The second day of the planned ceremonies will see the crews of the various ships assembling at the Battery with escort contingents from the U.S. Coast Guard Academy, the U. S. Merchant Marine Academy and/or the New York State Maritime College. Thus formed, the cadets and their escorts will proceed under a ticker-tape parade to New York's City Hall for the Mayor's Reception. Following the formalities, numerous events are planned throughout the week for officers and crew alike. A full-dress inspection of the ships is planned; a symposium for the officers and contests of seamanship for the crews will be held; and it is expected that television networks will program various national groups singing sea chanties. Receptions at the Merchant Marine Academy and various consulates are planned, as are such divertissements as longboat racing near the World's Fair Marina, soccer games between ships's [sic] crews, and sightseeing trips to Washington, D.C., the Coast Guard Academy in New London, Conn., and Mystic Seaport. The program will come to a close at the World's Fair grounds, where plaques, prizes and certificates will be presented. That evening an Operation Sail Grand Ball will be held at Madison Square Garden with the Naval Attaches as Honorary Patrons. The following day the cadets will set sail and the ships will disperse for their various home ports. The project is a tribute to training under sail In this modern age of nuclear power and Polaris missiles, it may seem odd that so many nations train their naval and merchant marine cadets under sail. However, such training has many advantages, not the least of which is learning a respect for the sea - which makes equal demands of a huge carrier or a brigantine. There is no better way to gain an intimate knowledge of these natural forces than to serve in sail. As Nils Hansell - whose feeling for the sea resulted in the project - put it: "Operation Sail in New York excites the imagination of so many of us. Sailing ships of all kinds, large and small and fore-and-aft and square-rigged, will crowd the harbor for a sight that few shall have seen before, and one that may never come again. "But for all the excitement of the many masts and sails, the show will be meaningful, for these are sail training ships manned by seamen trainees. Their work aboard is not easy. Discipline is firm. They will have sailed from distant shores, on foul winds probably as much as fair or, sometimes, no winds at all. "Theirs should prove an exciting demonstration of training under sail as a way for character building of young men in today's world." This, then, is "Operation Sail." Not only a demonstration of training under sail, but a reaffirmation of the fact that great sailing ships still span the seven seas. The following tall ships ultimately participated in the 1964 Operation Sail:
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 one's for the film buffs AND the sailing buffs! Today's Media Monday post features the 1958 film Windjammer: The Voyage of the Christian Radich. Filmed aboard the Norwegian three-masted bark Christian Radich, "Windjammer" was filmed in the groundbreaking (and short-lived) Cinemiracle wide screen process. Long before IMAX, Cinemiracle was a strikingly immersive film experience for 1958, and Windjammer was the only feature-length film ever produced by this process.
Based on a book written by Allan J. Villiers, the film follows a crew of young Norwegian men on a sail training mission aboard the Christian Radich. The film covers a journey of 17,500 nautical miles from Norway to Madiera, the Dutch West Indies, Puerto Rico, Trinidad, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston before heading back to Oslo across the North Atlantic and around Scotland. Although the young crew of the vessel (some as young as 14) are numerous, the storyline focuses on only a few, including one boy training to be a concert pianist. The entire film runs about 2 hours and 30 minutes (including prologue and intermission). It premiered at Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood April 8, 1958, and on April 9, 1958 premiered at the Roxy Theater in New York City on a curved, 40 foot high by 100 foot long screen. It needed three film projectors to synchronize the wind screen format. The screen size and curve (nearly identical to Cinerama) made the viewer feel as if they were immersed in the film. And as you'll see below, the film started out in standard format, the screen flanked by theater curtains, which were then drawn back to expose the enormous wide screen.
The film was later converted to Cinerama, which required only one projector, not three. It went on to be nominated for several awards, and was so popular in Norway that in 1959 it was seen in Oslo more times than there were people in city. You can watch the restored trailer below.
No Cinemiracle or Cinerama theaters survive today, but the Christian Radich does. Built in 1937 specifically as a sail training vessel for Norway, she remained at that post until the 1990s. Today, she is operated as a private vessel that offers sightseeing tours of coastal Norway and sail training for young people - as she originally intended.
​Windjammer is available for streaming purchase on Amazon Prime. If you want to learn more about Windjammer, including the technical process, screenings, interviews with cast and crew, etc., visit here. And if you're curious about historic sailing vessels, be sure to check out our upcoming 2022 exhibit, "A New Age of Sail: The History and Future of Sail Freight on the Hudson River," Opening May 1, 2022!
​​​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​
In honor of our upcoming lecture, "The History and Future of Grain Races," as well as our upcoming exhibit on sail freight (currently under development), we thought we'd share this amazing historical film featuring footage from the bark "Peking" (formerly at South Street Seaport, now returned to her native Germany) as it sailed around Cape Horn in 1929. The film is silent, but narrated by Captain Irving Johnson, who was aboard "Peking" during this voyage and took all of the film footage with a camera he had brought with him. He was only 24 at the time. Johnson continued a career as a sailor, and met his wife, Electa "Exy" Johnson, while working aboard a schooner bound for France. They married in 1932 and went on to circumnavigate the globe together, teaching young sailors, and writing several books, articles, and producing several films based on their adventures. Their papers are now held in the collection of Mystic Seaport. For a glimpse into the later sailing expeditions of Captain and First Mate Johnson, check out this wonderful story map put together by Mystic Seaport charting their 1956 circumnavigation aboard the brigantine "Yankee" with a student crew. 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!
Today's Featured Artifact is one of our favorite model boats - this beautiful model of a brick schooner. Over 100 years old, the model was originally owned by Captain Charles A. Hunt, an active yachtsman on the Hudson River, who owned an 80’ sloop named The Fearless. This model was donated to HRMM by Charles Hunt's’ granddaughter Elizabeth Brockway McCormack in 1985. The model is plank-on-frame and fully rigged. It's also larger than it looks, measuring 5'11" long, 16" wide, and nearly 5 feet (59") high. The Brockway family had an extensive brickyard just north of Beacon (learn more about what's left of the Brockway Brickyards). The Brockway Brickyard was started in 1886 when Edwin Brockway purchased 70 acres just north of Beacon, NY. The village was named after the brickyard, which continued in operation as one of the largest in the Hudson Valley until it closed 1931. This model is an example of a brick schooner. Used on the Hudson from 1830s-1920s, these types of schooners were a cost effective way to ship the heavy bricks from Hudson Valley brickyards to New York City and up and down the Eastern seaboard. Schooners and sloops specialized in heavy or bulky cargoes. Early in the century they transported grain, coal, ice, bluestone, bricks, cement, and even hay. Later in the 19th and early 20th centuries, the very heavy cargoes such as bricks, bluestone, and cement were the primary sail cargoes on the Hudson River. Requiring no fuel and carrying a non-perishable cargo, the only expense to operate them was the crew, which made them much cheaper than steamboats and tugboats. And unlike barges which needed to be towed and were not necessarily ocean-worthy, schooners could and did easily sail right out of New York Harbor and up and down the coast for deliveries farther afield. If you'd like to visit this beautiful model, it is currently on display as part of our mini exhibit on the Hudson River brick industry in the East Gallery of the museum. 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!
T'was the night before Halloween! And while many a passenger is aboard Solaris for this weekend's Lantern Cruises, we thought it apt to share a tale from Washington Irving. First published in 1822 as part of the two volume Bracebridge Hall, the tale of the Storm Ship is an unassuming one, but has spawned a lot of lore about the ghostly ship that plies the Hudson against wind and tide. The story entitled "Storm Ship" is quite a bit longer than this excerpt, and is preceded by one entitled "Dolph Heylinger." But the remainder of "The Storm Ship" is not actually about the ship at all, but rather Dolph's exploits and redemption. You can read the entire Storm Ship story here. Although Irving is best known for his masterful Sleepy Hollow, this shorter story is nonetheless a fascinating look at early Dutch colonial life - fictionalized through a 19th century lens - in what was once New Netherland. Note: The following text is taken verbatim from the original Washington Irving publication and has the original spelling. The Storm ShipIn the golden age of the province of the New-Netherlands, when it was under the sway of Wouter Van Twiller, otherwise called the Doubter, the people of the Manhattoes were alarmed, one sultry afternoon, just about the time of the summer solstice, by a tremendous storm of thunder and lightning. The rain descended in such torrents, as absolutely to spatter up and smoke along the ground. It seemed as if the thunder rattled and rolled over the very roofs of the houses; the lightning was seen to play about the church of St. Nicholas, and to strive three times, in vain, to strike its weather-cock. Garret Van Horne’s new chimney was split almost from top to bottom; and Doffue Mildeberger was struck speechless from his bald-faced mare, just as he was riding into town. In a word, it was one of those unparalleled storms, that only happen once within the memory of that venerable personage, known in all towns by the appellation of “the oldest inhabitant.” Great was the terror of the good old women of the Manhattoes. They gathered their children together, and took refuge in the cellars; after having hung a shoe on the iron point of every bed-post, lest it should attract the lightning. At length the storm abated: the thunder sunk into a growl; and the setting sun, breaking from under the fringed borders of the clouds, made the broad bosom of the bay to gleam like a sea of molten gold. The word was given from the fort, that a ship was standing up the bay. It passed from mouth to mouth, and street to street, and soon put the little capital in a bustle. The arrival of a ship, in those early times of the settlement, was an event of vast importance to the inhabitants. It brought them news from the old world, from the land of their birth, from which they were so completely severed: to the yearly ship, too, they looked for their supply of luxuries, of finery, of comforts, and almost of necessaries. The good vrouw could not have her new cap, nor new gown, until the arrival of the ship; the artist waited for it for his tools, the burgomaster for his pipe and his supply of Hollands, the school-boy for his top and marbles, and the lordly landholder for the bricks with which he was to build his new mansion. Thus every one, rich and poor, great and small, looked out for the arrival of the ship. It was the great yearly event of the town of New-Amsterdam; and from one end of the year to the other, the ship—the ship—the ship—was the continual topic of conversation. The news from the fort, therefore, brought all the populace down to the battery, to behold the wished-for sight. It was not exactly the time when she had been expected to arrive, and the circumstance was a matter of some speculation. Many were the groups collected about the battery. Here and there might be seen a burgomaster, of slow and pompous gravity, giving his opinion with great confidence to a crowd of old women and idle boys. At another place was a knot of old weatherbeaten fellows, who had been seamen or fishermen in their times, and were great authorities on such occasions; these gave different opinions, and caused great disputes among their several adherents: but the man most looked up to, and followed and watched by the crowd, was Hans Van Pelt, an old Dutch sea-captain retired from service, the nautical oracle of the place. He reconnoitred the ship through an ancient telescope, covered with tarry canvas, hummed a Dutch tune to himself, and said nothing. A hum, however, from Hans Van Pelt had always more weight with the public than a speech from another man. In the meantime, the ship became more distinct to the naked eye: she was a stout, round Dutch-built vessel, with high bow and poop, and bearing Dutch colours. The evening sun gilded her bellying canvas, as she came riding over the long waving billows. The sentinel who had given notice of her approach, declared, that he first got sight of her when she was in the centre of the bay; and that she broke suddenly on his sight, just as if she had come out of the bosom of the black thunder-cloud. The bystanders looked at Hans Van Pelt, to see what he would say to this report: Hans Van Pelt screwed his mouth closer together, and said nothing; upon which some shook their heads, and others shrugged their shoulders. The ship was now repeatedly hailed, but made no reply, and, passing by the fort, stood on up the Hudson. A gun was brought to bear on her, and, with some difficulty, loaded and fired by Hans Van Pelt, the garrison not being expert in artillery. The shot seemed absolutely to pass through the ship, and to skip along the water on the other side, but no notice was taken of it! What was strange, she had all her sails set, and sailed right against wind and tide, which were both down the river. Upon this Hans Van Pelt, who was likewise harbour-master, ordered his boat, and set off to board her; but after rowing two or three hours, he returned without success. Sometimes he would get within one or two hundred yards of her, and then, in a twinkling, she would be half a mile off. Some said it was because his oarsmen, who were rather pursy and short-winded, stopped every now and then to take breath, and spit on their hands; but this, it is probable, was a mere scandal. He got near enough, however, to see the crew; who were all dressed in the Dutch style, the officers in doublets and high hats and feathers: not a word was spoken by any one on board; they stood as motionless as so many statues, and the ship seemed as if left to her own government. Thus she kept on away up the river, lessening and lessening in the evening sunshine, until she faded from sight, like a little white cloud melting away in the summer sky. The appearance of this ship threw the governor into one of the deepest doubts that ever beset him in the whole course of his administration. Fears were entertained for the security of the infant settlements on the river, lest this might be an enemy’s ship in disguise, sent to take possession. The governor called together his council repeatedly to assist him with their conjectures. He sat in his chair of state, built of timber from the sacred forest of the Hague, and smoking his long jasmine pipe, and listened to all that his counsellors had to say on a subject about which they knew nothing; but, in spite of all the conjecturing of the sagest and oldest heads, the governor still continued to doubt. Messengers were despatched to different places on the river; but they returned without any tidings—the ship had made no port. Day after day, and week after week, elapsed; but she never returned down the Hudson. As, however, the council seemed solicitous for intelligence, they had it in abundance. The captains of the sloops seldom arrived without bringing some report of having seen the strange ship at different parts of the river; sometimes near the Palisadoes; sometimes off Croton Point, and sometimes in the highlands; but she never was reported as having been seen above the highlands. The crews of the sloops, it is true, generally differed among themselves in their accounts of these apparitions; but they may have arisen from the uncertain situations in which they saw her. Sometimes it was by the flashes of the thunder-storm lighting up a pitchy night, and giving glimpses of her careering across Tappaan Zee, or the wide waste of Haverstraw Bay. At one moment she would appear close upon them, as if likely to run them down, and would throw them into great bustle and alarm; but the next flash would show her far off, always sailing against the wind. Sometimes, in quiet moonlight nights, she would be seen under some high bluff of the highlands, all in deep shadow, excepting her top-sails glittering in the moonbeams; by the time, however, that the voyagers would reach the place, there would be no ship to be seen; and when they had passed on for some distance, and looked back, behold! there she was again with her top-sails in the moonshine! Her appearance was always just after, or just before, or just in the midst of, unruly weather; and she was known by all the skippers and voyagers of the Hudson, by the name of “the storm-ship.” These reports perplexed, the governor and his council more than ever; and it would be endless to repeat the conjectures and opinions that were uttered on the subject. Some quoted cases in point, of ships seen off the coast of New-England, navigated by witches and goblins. Old Hans Van Pelt, who had been more than once to the Dutch colony at the Cape of Good Hope, insisted that this must be the Flying Dutchman which had so long haunted Table Bay, but, being unable to make port, had now sought another harbour. Others suggested, that, if it really was a supernatural apparition, as there was every natural reason to believe, it might be Hendrick Hudson, and his crew of the Half-Moon; who, it was well-known, had once run aground in the upper part of the river, in seeking a north-west passage to China. This opinion had very little weight with the governor, but it passed current out of doors; for indeed it had already been reported, that Hendrick Hudson and his crew haunted the Kaatskill Mountain; and it appeared very reasonable to suppose, that his ship might infest the river, where the enterprise was baffled, or that it might bear the shadowy crew to their periodical revels in the mountain. Other events occurred to occupy the thoughts and doubts of the sage Wouter and his council, and the storm-ship ceased to be a subject of deliberation at the board. It continued, however, to be a matter of popular belief and marvellous anecdote through the whole time of the Dutch government, and particularly just before the capture of New-Amsterdam, and the subjugation of the province by the English squadron. About that time the storm-ship was repeatedly seen in the Tappaan Zee, and about Weehawk, and even down as far as Hoboken; and her appearance was supposed to be ominous of the approaching squall in public affairs, and the downfall of Dutch domination. Since that time, we have no authentic accounts of her; though it is said she still haunts the highlands and cruises about Point-no-point. People who live along the river, insist that they sometimes see her in summer moonlight; and that in a deep still midnight, they have heard the chant of her crew, as if heaving the lead; but sights and sounds are so deceptive along the mountainous shores, and about the wide bays and long reaches of this great river, that I confess I have very strong doubts upon the subject. Have you ever seen the storm ship on the Hudson River? Tell us in the comments and keep your eyes peeled the next time you're out on the Hudson at night! If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!
Editor’s Note: The replica ship Half Moon was completed in Albany in 1989 and served as a cultural ambassador celebrating the role of the Dutch in naval architecture, exploration, international trade, and colonization. An earlier replica was built in Amsterdam and presented to the United States during the Hudson-Fulton Celebration in 1909. This first replica was not maintained after the celebration and did not survive long as a static exhibit at Bear Mountain and later at Cohoes. The 1989 replica performed well once her characteristics were understood and was exhibited in a number of ports along the Atlantic seaboard. Later, she served as valuable and successful educational platform on the Hudson River through her “Voyages of Discovery” program for school children. The ship is currently in the Netherlands after spending several years as an exhibit in Hoorn. To read more about the technology and terminology of sailing in the seventeenth century and later, John Harland’s Seamanship in the Age of Sail, 1984 (republished by the Naval Institute Press in 1987) is recommended. For an account of Henry Hudson’s four voyages of exploration, including his trip up the Hudson River in 1609, Donald Johnson’s Charting the Sea of Darkness, International Marine, 1993 is recommended. This latter book is dedicated to the shipwright who designed and built the replica, Nick Benton. Follow Muddy Paddle, Able Seaman aboard the replica ship Half Moon here. Anchoring and lowering the topmasts in Delaware Bay We assigned pairs to a series of one-hour anchor watches for the evening to make sure that our anchor held and to quickly identify any other potential emergencies. At midnight, the wind was really howling and the ship heeled over alarmingly several times, bringing a few others including feline crewmember Mrs. Freeboard up on deck. The anchor held, and by 4:00 AM, the wind subsided and the stars came out. After a hearty breakfast, we set about the task of lowering our topmasts and topgallant poles so that we could take the ship into Wilmington later in the day. We underestimated the difficulty of accomplishing this at anchor with inexperienced volunteers. Taking each mast in turn, the plan was to attach a line to the topmast heel, pass it over the grooved mast cap and run it aft to a fife rail where a snatch block was rigged to direct the line to the capstan (a big rotating drum turned by handspikes or bars and used for heavy work). The crew would man the bars, take the strain and lift the topmast an inch so that the fid piece securing it could be knocked out. The crew would then gently walk the capstan backward until the crosstrees were in the tops. It was a sound plan. We began with the foretopmast. As soon as the strain came on the line, the wooden block at the fiferail shattered and the mast jumped down a good distance before the capstan took the shock. A small piece of the block’s wooden shell dropped harmlessly to the deck while the larger chunk whistled off at 100 mph toward New Castle. Fortunately the capstan and the crew held. The mast was lowered the remainder of the way without the block. The maintopmast proved to be a bigger challenge. We used a modern steel block for this episode. When the bars were manned, Mike knocked out the fid block, and we lowered the topmast down several feet where we discovered that it was unable to drop clear of the main yard. We secured the line and rigged tyes (safety lines) to the yard in preparation for lowering. It would not budge. The yard had not been shifted since installation in Albany, and the necklace, securing it to the mast was now thoroughly infused with varnish. I had to harness up, cut some of the seizings, and then jump on the yard to get it to move. After getting Mike on the yard with me and spraying WD 40 on everything, we were able to work the yard down far enough for the topmast to drop into position well below the point where the topmast would drop. The next challenge was recovering our anchor so that we could get underway. We motored up to the anchor, pulling in the heavy cable along the way until we were “up-and-down,” that is the cable was now vertical between the hawse hole in the bow and the anchor down below. We attached a messenger line to the cable and led it back to the capstan. We manned the bars but the anchor was apparently buried deep in the mud. Last night’s high winds were surely a factor in burying the anchor so securely. We had to wait for slack tide before we could successfully bring it up. We were going to be late for the grand arrival. It was dark when we entered the Christiana Creek leading into the Wilmington waterfront and our running lights failed. We sent the first mate out in the dink with a flashlight to find the way to our dock. He returned and led the ship there with his flashlight. We cleared a highway bridge with inches to spare, and had difficulty docking in the dark. The crowd that had planned to greet us was gone and all that remained were a few organizers and some warm beers. Afterword After a day in Wilmington, the Half Moon continued south to Washington, D.C. I had to get back to work and took the next train home to New York. Returning from Washington, tugboat captain Chip Reynolds came aboard. He took command of the ship during the return voyage and began a long and distinguished association with the ship marked by a much needed emphasis on safety. Countless school children sailed with the Half Moon on educational “voyages of discovery” between New York and Albany, and many of the lessons were filmed live to home classrooms by Skype. Reynolds had a crew of schoolchildren aboard the Half Moon in New York harbor when the planes were flown into the two towers of the World Trade Center in 2001. He kept everyone calm, and brought the children safely up the river where they could be reunited with family. I joined the ship one last time in 2006 at the end of the sailing season to bring the ship to her winter berth in Verplank. We sailed much of that distance before a stiff and cold northwest wind. It was an exhilarating experience as we raced down the river between the Catskills and the Highlands during peak autumn color. In 2015, the voyages of discovery were suspended, Captain Reynolds was discharged and the Half Moon was sent to the Netherlands, arriving in August. She then proceeded to the Westfries Ship Museum in Hoorn where she was exhibited. There has been discussion about returning the ship to the United States in the near future but to date, no specific plan has been announced. Building and sailing replica ships offers rare insight into worlds which no longer exist. Design details that at first seem frivolous or impractical are often revealed to make perfect sense as construction proceeds or as experience is gained operating the ship. Replicas help us to understand that our ancestors were not only daring and courageous, but equally ingenious and practical. Getting kids involved in these projects offers lessons in discipline, leadership and self-confidence and is a sure way to cultivate a deep appreciation for our maritime heritage. Thank you, Muddy Paddle, for sharing these adventures! AuthorMuddy Paddle grew up near the Hudson River and always loved ships and boats. A job change in 1988 brought him to an office near the site where the Half Moon was being built and he became involved as a volunteer. Muddy learned the ways of seventeenth century sailing and accompanied the replica ship on a series of adventures and misadventures on the river, in New York Harbor and even offshore. He maintained a journal, which served as a reference for on-board terminology and operations as well as a place to record a few highlights of his trips. The accounts presented here, and several of the illustrations, were based on this journal and his recollection of these trips. If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!
Editor’s Note: The replica ship Half Moon was completed in Albany in 1989 and served as a cultural ambassador celebrating the role of the Dutch in naval architecture, exploration, international trade, and colonization. An earlier replica was built in Amsterdam and presented to the United States during the Hudson-Fulton Celebration in 1909. This first replica was not maintained after the celebration and did not survive long as a static exhibit at Bear Mountain and later at Cohoes. The 1989 replica performed well once her characteristics were understood and was exhibited in a number of ports along the Atlantic seaboard. Later, she served as valuable and successful educational platform on the Hudson River through her “Voyages of Discovery” program for school children. The ship is currently in the Netherlands after spending several years as an exhibit in Hoorn. To read more about the technology and terminology of sailing in the seventeenth century and later, John Harland’s Seamanship in the Age of Sail, 1984 (republished by the Naval Institute Press in 1987) is recommended. For an account of Henry Hudson’s four voyages of exploration, including his trip up the Hudson River in 1609, Donald Johnson’s Charting the Sea of Darkness, International Marine, 1993 is recommended. This latter book is dedicated to the shipwright who designed and built the replica, Nick Benton. Follow Muddy Paddle, Able Seaman aboard the replica ship Half Moon here. A Passage to Delaware Bay I joined the ship at Jersey City on the first Tuesday of October. The ship had only four volunteers but had gained a cat named Mrs. Freeboard. The Half Moon had more than enough freeboard, but our cat thought otherwise. She earned her “free” board by keeping the “pier ponies” (rats) off the ship. Our first mate went out looking to sign on a few more volunteers while the captain made chili. By this point in the ship’s career, a convenient galley and four berths had been set up in the ship’s forward hold. Historically, cooking was done on a tile hearth on the main deck within the forecastle. Crew had used this hearth previously for making cowboy coffee and boiling stews, but it was a poor substitute for a range and a refrigerator, especially in bad weather. Our food was substantially better than the dried and salted meats and weevilly biscuits served to the seventeenth century sailors. Since water became rank on long voyages, beer was the beverage of choice in 1609. We did not think it was a good idea to stock beer aboard the replica ship. We had plenty of challenges while sober. Crew members whipped old lines (finished off fraying ends) in the fo’csle and shared tales about previous trips. We ate dinner in the galley down below and watched the sunset from the mast tops. Our first mate was successful in recruiting two college students as volunteers. It was a cool, damp night so we bunked down in the galley for the evening. Our new recruits came aboard at dawn and we got underway immediately, certainly before they had time to change their minds. Ideally, we should have had a mate and seven crewmembers. We were one short. The students, Mike and Ann, were a couple. Mike was very athletic and proved a quick study aloft. His girlfriend Ann had only come along for the ride, but was cheerful and ready to do her share of the work on board. We passed under the Verrazano Bridge, went by the old Romer Shoal lighthouse along the Ambrose Channel and out into the Atlantic where we paralleled the New Jersey shore. We boiled up a pot of oatmeal for breakfast and cooked chicken for lunch. Seas rose in the afternoon. Mike was the first one to feel ill. He declined our dinner of fried steaks and onions. The smell of the onions probably didn’t help. We divided the crew into two watches (rotating teams) of three members each. Mike was completely out of commission and had rolled himself into a fetal position amongst coils of rope in the forecastle. Ann paid seemingly little attention to him, so from time-to-time, the others would check on him and make sure he was getting a little water. As with the original, the replica Half Moon was steered by a traditional whipstaff instead of a wheel. The whipstaff is a vertical pole sliding in and out of a pivoting drum on deck. The lower end of this staff engages a long tiller which rides over a greased beam and connects to the top of the rudder. The whipstaff is housed within a protective hutch in front of the mizzenmast and well behind the mainmast. There is room in this hutch for the helmsman (the crew member steering the ship) an hourglass used for navigation and dictating the change of the watch and a binnacle, the cabinet containing the compass. Our replica also carried radar. The helmsman is protected from bad weather, yet can still see the set of the sails while watching the compass heading of the ship. However, in close maneuvering, the pilot must con (direct) the ship from the deck above, shouting commands to the helmsman below. It was a stormy night and conditions were deteriorating. Although the helmsman’s hutch was largely enclosed and provided with a modern compass and radar, steering proved to be a very physical challenge. When the stern of the ship lifted up out of the water, the heavy oak rudder wanted to flop one way or the other. That force was transmitted pretty directly by way of the long tiller to the whipstaff. After bruising our chests several times, we rigged up a relieving line whipped around the steering pole that we could use as a shock absorber (maybe this is why it was called a whip-staff). Even so, maintaining a precise compass course was not possible. The best we could do was to keep heading generally south. Several hours before midnight, I noticed a series of blips on the south side of the radar screen in the general path we were taking. Each time the radar swept the screen, these blips would be slightly reconfigured. Over the next several minutes they became closer and better defined. Not knowing what they represented and visibility being poor, I chose to avoid the cluster and turned the ship west. There was plenty of searoom and I was prepared to return to our original course as soon as we cleared this cluster. As we came around, the ship’s motion over the waves changed. The captain, who had been sleeping in the master’s cabin, sensed the change in course, entered the hutch, looked at the compass, and forced the whipstaff over to port while I tried to explain the situation. He either couldn’t hear me or didn’t believe me and kept swearing that I was trying to wreck the ship on the Jersey shore. Within seconds, our forward lookout ran back and screamed that we were headed into a bunch of oil or gas barges. Now the captain understood, but it was almost too late. I pushed the whipstaff hard over to starboard and we came very close to one of the barges. It appeared that the tug had lost control of her tow. We saw a long towing cable come out of the water nearby and snap taut with a thunderous crack. I came off watch right after this incident and tried to catch a nap in the galley, but the recent close call and the jumping, corkscrew motion of the ship made sleep impossible. I also realized that in the event of an accident, getting out of the galley and up onto deck required navigating narrow passages, ladders and hatches. This prospect was not all that reassuring. I went back on watch several hours after midnight. The captain went back to bed. Ann and I shared the steering while the first mate served as lookout. The sky lightened around 6:00 AM. Ann and I came off watch and went below to make a hot breakfast on the galley stove. After putting some coffee on, we started with a large frying pan full of bacon. As that was getting close to being ready, we started making toast and frying eggs in a second pan. At that moment, our generator conked out and we were absolutely blind. The galley was a pretty confined space two decks down in the bow with no natural light. We hit a big roller and the pans skidded off the stove top, revealing the orange glow of the burners. The hot pans and bacon grease were all over the deck, so we jumped up into the bunks to keep from getting burned. Ann felt for a flashlight in one of the bunks and found one on a pillow. Let there be light! Miraculously, the bacon and eggs remained in their pans sunny-side up. The first mate fixed the generator, the lights, stove and toaster came back to life and we were able to serve a passable breakfast. Seasick Mike was better and was able to eat. A couple of exhausted goldfinches joined us as we approached Cape Henlopen and turned to enter Delaware Bay. A sail training schooner entered the bay well ahead of us but sailing before a favorable wind we eventually caught up with her. The wind increased to the point where it became prudent to trice (gather up) and furl the sails and come to anchor for the night. High winds associated with a dying offshore hurricane were forecast. We buttoned everything down. Ann prepared pasta and turkey meatballs for supper. Join us again next Friday for the Part 5, the last, of the "Half Moon" adventure! AuthorMuddy Paddle grew up near the Hudson River and always loved ships and boats. A job change in 1988 brought him to an office near the site where the Half Moon was being built and he became involved as a volunteer. Muddy learned the ways of seventeenth century sailing and accompanied the replica ship on a series of adventures and misadventures on the river, in New York Harbor and even offshore. He maintained a journal, which served as a reference for on-board terminology and operations as well as a place to record a few highlights of his trips. The accounts presented here, and several of the illustrations, were based on this journal and his recollection of these trips. 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!
|
AuthorThis blog is written by Hudson River Maritime Museum staff, volunteers and guest contributors. Archives
March 2024
Categories
All
|
Hudson River Maritime Museum
50 Rondout Landing Kingston, NY 12401 845-338-0071 fax: 845-338-0583 info@hrmm.org The Hudson River Maritime Museum is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization dedicated to the preservation and interpretation of the maritime history of the Hudson River, its tributaries, and related industries. |
Members Matter!Become a member and receive benefits like unlimited free museum admission, discounts on classes, programs, and in the museum store, plus invitations to members-only events.
|
Support EducationThe Hudson River Maritime Museum receives no federal, state, or municipal funding except through competitive, project-based grants. Your donation helps support our mission of education and preservation.
|