pest gulfs
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Not too long ago, I was crossing an intersection in Long Island City, one which is overtly familiar, and I noticed something which has eluded my interests in the past. At Hunters Point Avenue (which is officially 47th avenue in this decadent age) and 27th street, the sewers bear an interesting screed.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
There was recently a sizable road repair in this spot, perhaps in 2008 or 09, one which cut away the street surface. Observation revealed that the waters of Dutch Kills flow beneath a sort of concrete deck, which appears to be the foundations of the surface street, a structure which sits upon wooden piles.
It must have been around the time of this project that these grates showed up.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
“Dump no waste, drains to waterways” is the motto embossed on the curb surface. What this means, to me at least, is that snowmelt and rain goes directly (and untreated) into the nearest open water- which would be the Dutch Kills tributary of the fabled Newtown Creek.
Just in case you think that this is not a big deal, this is an enormously well travelled intersection with a UPS depot on the opposite corner and one which provides a “short cut” for trucks employed by the Fresh Direct facility on Borden Avenue (amongst others, of course). That’s two very large fleets of trucks.
Trucks are notoriously “drippy” and their exhaust paints the pavement with diesel petroleum residue, all of which flows into the water.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Another drop in the bucket, you might say, as far the Newtown Creek Watershed goes.
Even so, it’s odd that untreated wastewater is allowed to flow directly into this waterway, already a largely anaerobic place where no fish of similar size might survive long.
gangrenous glare
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just a short one today, as your humble narrator has recently been laid low by some unknown virus for the last week, and frankly- all I can manage in this state of epidemic weakness and fatigue is another of the “now and then” posts.
Doubt exists in my mind as to the exact location of the shot below, but there were several improvements made to the elevated line on Queens Blvd. over the years, some of which were due to the lengthening of the platforms to accommodate IND as well as IRT to facilitate system wide access to the World’s Fair at what is now Flushing Meadow Corona Park.
– photo courtesy google books, from: Queens Borough, New York City, 1910-1920: The Borough of Homes and Industry
This very well might be the 46th street station in Sunnyside… but I’ll also point out that the Chrysler Building is missing as well.
many candles
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Another one of NY Harbor’s towing companies whose craft are a delight to behold is DonJon Marine.
They operate a fleet of sky blue tugs whose capabilities range from canal and river tugs all the way up to a gargantuan oceanic tug which is called Atlantic Salvor.
Today, the focus is on DonJon’s Cheyenne, which is one of their smaller tugs. That’s her, moving past Wards Island and passing beneath the Hells Gate Bridge.
from donjon.com
Founded in 1964 by Mr. J. Arnold Witte, Donjon’s President and Chief Executive Officer, Donjon Marine’s principal business activities were marine salvage, marine transportation, and related services. Today Donjon Marine is a true provider of multifaceted marine services. Donjon’s controlled expansion into related businesses such as dredging, ferrous and non-ferrous recycling and heavy lift services are a natural progression, paralleling our record of solid technical and cost-effective performance.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Cheyenne is older than I am, yet manages to get to work every day, unlike me.
DonJon serves as one of the integral components of New York Harbor’s system for moving recyclable commodities from curb to customer, and can often be spotted moving barges of metallic waste between DSNY collection points.
I first became aware of the company’s role in the process after spotting them at the SimsMetal Newtown Creek docks a few years ago.
Built in 1965, by Ira S. Bushey and Sons of Brooklyn, New York (hull #628) as the tug Glenwood for Red Star Towing.
In 1970, she was acquired by Spentonbush Towing where she was renamed as the Cheyenne
The tug was later acquired by Amerada Hess where she retained her name.
She was then acquired by Empire Harbor Marine where the tug retained her name. The company would later be renamed as Port Albany Ventures.
In 2009, Port Albany Ventures was acquired by the DonJon Marine Company of Hillside, New Jersey.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A dirty and necessary industry, recycling is nothing like you would imagine it to be. University professors, environmentalists, and politicians present an image of something akin to Santa’s Elves in crisp white uniforms working in an antiseptic factory isolated from population centers. The reality is that it is performed by oil streaked and smoke belching heavy machinery, consumes far more fuel than you would imagine, and that it is quite a dangerous occupation (also, the concentration and processing of these metals carries dark implications for groundwater and air quality in the localities which it takes place in).
Green jobs of the future indeed.
from wikipedia
The scrap industry contributed $65 billion in 2006 and is one of the few contributing positively to the U.S. balance of trade, exporting $15.7 billion in scrap commodities in 2006. This imbalance of trade has resulted in rising scrap prices during 2007 and 2008 within the United States. Scrap recycling also helps reduce greenhouse gas emissions and conserves energy and natural resources. For example, scrap recycling diverts 145,000,000 short tons (129,464,286 long tons; 131,541,787 t) of materials away from landfills. Recycled scrap is a raw material feedstock for 2 out of 3 pounds of steel made in the U.S., for 60% of the metals and alloys produced in the U.S., for more than 50% of the U.S. paper industry’s needs, and for 33% of U.S. aluminum. Recycled scrap helps keep air and water cleaner by removing potentially hazardous materials and keeping them out of landfills.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Not meaning to sound negative on this otherwise essential service, it’s just that as certain highly placed municipal employees have advised me in the past- “Be careful which laws you ask for, as some things may come only at too great a cost”.
If it costs ten gallons of fuel to recycle and reuse something which it would have cost five gallons of fuel to pull out of the ground… what are we actually saving?
from wikipedia
The tugboat is one symbol of New York. Along with its more famous icons of Lady Liberty, the Empire State Building, and the Brooklyn Bridge, the sturdy little tugs, once all steam powered, working quietly in the harbor became a sight in the city.
The first hull was the paddler tug Rufus W. King of 1828.
New York Harbor at the confluence of the East River, Hudson River, and Atlantic Ocean is among the world’s largest natural harbors and was chosen in the 17th century as the site of New Amsterdam for its potential as a port. The completion of the Erie Canal in 1825 to the upper Hudson River ensured that New York would be the center of trade for the Eastern Seaboard, and as a result, the city boomed. At the port’s peak in the period of 1900-1950, ships moved millions of tons of freight, immigrants, millionaires, and GI service men serving in wars.
Sheparding the traffic around the harbor were hundreds of tugs–over 700 steam tugs worked the harbor in 1929. Firms such as McAllister, and Moran Tugs came into the business. Cornelius Vanderbilt started his empire with a sailboat and went on to greatness with the New York Central Railroad, incidentally owning many tugs.
Project Firebox 27
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On Ninth Street in Ravenswood lurks this minaret of scarlet assurance, a lonely and stalwart island of municipal succor in an dark and industrial sea of factory and warehouses. Curiously noble, it stands astride 35th Avenue.
audient void
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Much is made of the various pollution vectors which we lucky few are exposed to daily, here in the Newtown Pentacle. The air is heavy with ash and soot, hopelessly mingled with sewer effluent and automotive exhaust, and smells a little “odd”. The water is ruined, as is the soil itself, and there’s that whole “Creek thing”. What I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, however, is something a bit less tangible.
It’s the noise.
from wikipedia
Noise pollution is excessive, displeasing human, animal or machine-created environmental noise that disrupts the activity or balance of human or animal life. The word noise comes from the Latin word nauseas, meaning seasickness.
The source of most outdoor noise worldwide is mainly construction and transportation systems, including motor vehicle noise, aircraft noise and rail noise. Poor urban planning may give rise to noise pollution, since side-by-side industrial and residential buildings can result in noise pollution in the residential area.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
These photos are from the heart of industrial Maspeth- a bleak moonscape of rail siding, oil streaked truck routes, and a maelstrom of construction and demolition- and illustrate prime and obvious offenders. Their usage is a bit disingenuous, because the kind of aural pollution which I’m wondering about is the “hum”.
Not some paranoid’s imagined perception of radio waves, that’s a Taos thing– but simply the aggregate melody of millions of engines, electrical transformers, air conditioners, tires on pavement, etc.
from wikipedia
Environmental noise regulations usually specify a maximum outdoor noise level of 60 to 65 dB(A), while occupational safety organizations recommend that the maximum exposure to noise is 40 hours per week at 85 to 90 dB(A). For every additional 3 dB(A), the maximum exposure time is reduced by a factor 2, e.g. 20 hours per week at 88 dB(A). Sometimes, a factor of two per additional 5 dB(A) is used. However, these occupational regulations are acknowledged by the health literature as inadequate to protect against hearing loss and other health effects.
With regard to indoor noise pollution in residences, the U.S. EPA has not set any restrictions on limits to the level of noise. Rather, it has provided a list of recommended levels in its Model Community Noise Control Ordinance, which was published in 1975. For instance, the recommended noise level for indoor residences is less than or equal to 45 dB. Noise pollution control in residences is not funded by the federal government in part because of the disagreements in establishing causal links between sounds and health risks, since the effect of noise is often psychological and also because it leaves no singular tangible trace of damage on the human body. For instance, hearing loss could be attributed to a variety of factors including age, rather than solely due to excessive exposure to noise. However, a state or local government is able to regulate indoor residential noise, such as when excessive noise from within a home causes disturbances to nearby residences.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A noticeable silence hung heavily around Astoria this past holiday weekend, and much to the delight of second story men, two thirds of the neighborhood disappeared for holiday excursions. For around two days, it was actually fairly quiet. It was January 2nd, at least, before the honking and constant vibrato of traffic resumed it’s omnipresence.
One wonders what the effect is, biologically, of living in such a saturation of sound.
One also wonders what sounds- what music of the spheres- may lie just beyond the dross auditory senses of men…
from wikipedia
The human auditory system is sensitive to frequencies from about 20 Hz to a maximum of around 20,000 Hz, although the upper hearing limit decreases with age. Within this range, the human ear is most sensitive between 2 and 5 kHz, largely due to the resonance of the ear canal and the transfer function of the ossicles of the middle ear.
Equal-loudness contours were first measured by Fletcher and Munson using headphones (1933). In their study, listeners were presented with pure tones at various frequencies and over 10 dB increments in stimulus intensity. For each frequency and intensity, the listener was also presented with a reference tone at 1000 Hz. The reference tone was adjusted until it was perceived to be of the same loudness as the test tone. Loudness, being a psychological quantity, is difficult to measure, so Fletcher and Munson averaged their results over many test subjects to derive reasonable averages. The lowest equal-loudness contour represents the quietest audible tone and is also known as the absolute threshold of hearing.
The highest contour is the threshold of pain.
