Posts Tagged ‘Pulaski Bridge’
spaces and travelers
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Lonely and alienated, your humble narrator nevertheless enjoys several safe harbors where pitying hosts allow me a chance to sit and recover from my endless marching across the great human hive. One of these spots is the North Brooklyn Boat Club in DUPBO, where the tug Cheyenne recently revealed itself to me. Cheyenne is employed by DonJon Marine, and on this day was hitched up to two recycling barges- likely coming from the SimsMetal dock adjoining the Dutch Kills tributary of the loquacious and far larger Newtown Creek. Welcome to yet another Maritime Sunday, at this, your Newtown Pentacle.
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
The mast on Cheyenne was rigged backward, no doubt to allow passage under the Pulaski Bridge without having to waste time waiting for the bridge operators to open the span. The captain is quite visible in the wheel house, and he sounded a couple of toots to the crew at North Brooklyn Boat Club. He did seem aghast when I came into view, but who could blame anyone for reacting in shock to the sort of shambling mess and crude imposture which stares back at me from the mirror.
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 fled the scene, no doubt alerting the authorities to the weird habitation witnessed in DUPBO. Regardless of the thunder struck expression on the Captain’s face, another of the dread realizations that a sailor’s life holds, a hearty Maritime Sunday shout out is nevertheless offered.
from donjon.com
DIMENSIONS: Length Overall: 83.0 ft./ 25.30 m
CONSTRUCTION: All Steel
PROPULSION & STEERING: Main Engines: Single Screw Fairbanks Morse Diesel 1,800 bhp
Also- Upcoming tours…
for an expanded description of the October 13th Kill Van Kull tour, please click here
for an expanded description of the October 20th Newtown Creek tour, please click here
ruined palaces
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Attempts to “take it easy” for a week or two at the end of the summer, coupled with the puzzling virus which hampered all egress to joy, have left your humble narrator in a state of quivering misery. Downtrodden by vast physical inadequacies, failing organs, and a certain sense of ennui- nowhere is nepenthe to be found. Truly- I’m all ‘effed up. Crises, both existential and supranormal, abound.
from wikipedia
Within the framework of the post-Classic cycle of thirteen katuns (the so-called ‘Short Count’), some of the Yucatec Books of Chilam Balam present a deluge myth describing the collapse of the sky, the subsequent flood, and the re-establishment of the world and its five world trees upon the cycle’s conclusion and resumption. In this cosmic drama, the Lightning deity (Bolon Dzacab), the Earth Crocodile (Itzam Cab Ain), and the divine carriers of sky and earth (the Bacabs) have an important role to play. The Quichean Popol Vuh does not mention the collapse of the sky and the establishment of the five trees, but focuses instead on a succession of previous mankinds, the last of which was destroyed by a flood.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A very bad thought, the sort of tormenting suspicion which instructs and informs madness, infects my mind. There are certain questions which should never even be asked, lest they be answered. Forbidden knowledge is prohibited for a reason, there are some things you cannot unlearn- like what the term “sediment mounds” connotes. The actions of others, with their unknowable motivations, rain random and unpredictable consequences into my days.
from wikipedia
There is a long philosophical and scientific history to the underlying thesis that reality is an illusion. This skeptical hypothesis (which can be dated in Western thought back to Parmenides, Zeno of Elea and Plato and in Eastern thought to the Advaita Vedanta concept of Maya) arguably underpins the mind-body dualism of Descartes, and is closely related to phenomenalism, a stance briefly adopted by Bertrand Russell. In a narrower sense it has become an important theme in science fiction, and recently has become a serious topic of study for futurology, in particular for transhumanism through the work of Nick Bostrom. The Simulation Hypothesis is a subject of serious academic debate within the field of transhumanism.
In its current form, the Simulation Argument began in 2003 with the publication of a paper by Nick Bostrom. Bostrom considers that the argument goes beyond skepticism, claiming that “…we have interesting empirical reasons to believe that a certain disjunctive claim about the world is true”, one of the disjunctive propositions being that we are almost certainly living in a simulation. Bostrom and other writers postulate there are empirical reasons why the ‘Simulation Hypothesis’ might be valid. Bostrom’s trilemma is formulated in temporal logic as follows:
“A technologically mature “posthuman” civilization would have enormous computing power. Based on this empirical fact, the simulation argument shows that at least one of the following propositions is true:
The fraction of human-level civilizations that reach a posthuman stage is very close to zero;
The fraction of posthuman civilizations that are interested in running ancestor-simulations is very close to zero;
The fraction of all people with our kind of experiences that are living in a simulation is very close to one.
If (1) is true, then we will almost certainly go extinct before reaching posthumanity.
If (2) is true, then there must be a strong convergence among the courses of advanced civilizations so that virtually none contains any relatively wealthy individuals who desire to run ancestor-simulations and are free to do so.
If (3) is true, then we almost certainly live in a simulation.
In the dark forest of our current ignorance, it seems sensible to apportion one’s credence roughly evenly between (1), (2), and (3).
Unless we are now living in a simulation, our descendants will almost certainly never run an ancestor-simulation.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Instead of allowing the intangible to complicate an already tenuous circumstance, and in the name of the annual “it’s September, so time to double down on the work” season, your humble narrator is retreating to the Creeklands. This is, after all, where one such as myself belongs- amongst the discarded and the decayed.
A long black raincoat hangs in my closet, awaiting the coming of another equinox, here in the Newtown Pentacle.
from wikipedia
In the near future, anthropogenic extinction scenarios exist: global nuclear annihilation, overpopulation or global accidental pandemic; besides natural ones: bolide impact and large scale volcanism or other catastrophic climate change. These natural causes have occurred multiple times in the geologic past although the probability of reoccurence within the human timescale of the near future is infinitesimally small. As technology develops, there is a theoretical possibility that humans may be deliberately destroyed by the actions of a nation state, corporation or individual in a form of global suicide attack. There is also a theoretical possibility that technological advancement may resolve or prevent potential extinction scenarios. The emergence of a pandemic of such virulence and infectiousness that very few humans survive the disease is a credible scenario. While not actually a human extinction event, this may leave only very small, very scattered human populations that would then evolve in isolation. It is important to differentiate between human extinction and the extinction of all life on Earth. Of possible extinction events, only a pandemic is selective enough to eliminate humanity while leaving the rest of complex life on earth relatively unscathed.
momentary panic
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve got a boo-boo.
On May 12, your humble narrator conducted a walking tour of Dutch Kills and Newtown Creek which ended at the Newtown Creek Nature Walk in Brooklyn. Having concluded the day’s exertions, the pathway back to benighted Astoria followed the familiar route of crossing the Pulaski Bridge.
At mid span, I noticed a tugboat- the Franklin Reinauer- waiting for the bridge to open, and decided to take advantage of its static position to gather a few shots.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Franklin Reinauer has been featured here in prior postings, and in an attempt to capture a slightly different angle of the vessel (as I’ve taken virtually identical shots of it from this very spot in the past), I decided to climb up on the weird wooden “art thing” which is installed mid span on the bridge.
Happy with the quality of light and the positioning of the ship in my shot, I noticed that the DOT bridge crew had shown up to open the Pulaski and allow the tug access to the Newtown Creek. Desire to get shots of the tug entering the Creek from below infected me and I tucked away my gear and attempted to dismount the “wooden art thing”.
That’s when it happened.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The injury wasn’t severe enough to preclude me from flying down the stairs and getting the shots I desired, as evinced above and below, but the swelling had already started.
As I was climbing down from the “wooden art thing”, I put my left hand down to steady myself as I descended back to the deck. My left thumb then exceeded its normal course and bent approximately forty five degrees in the wrong direction. While I didn’t hear the cracking sound familiar to anyone who has broken a bone, there was a distinct and rather disturbing “pop” that travelled up my arm.
It immediately began to swell.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
By the time that the shot above was captured, an ugly and redolent bruise was spreading around the joint, and the big muscle at the heel of my hand (where the thumb joins the wrist) had swollen up and it appeared as if I had an apricot growing in the shallow part of my palm. Ibuprofen and an ice pack were applied back at HQ, and the swelling subsided after a day or two. Full range of motion, and normal gripping strength, were confirmed and no doctoring seemed to be required. Today, it is still sore, but on the mend.
This is the tale of my boo-boo.
At least I got my shots.
elaborately fashioned
– photo by Mitch Waxman
While moving through DUPBO (Down Under the Pulaski Bridge Onramp) the other day, a passing train forced me to halt my ceaseless marching momentarily. Suffering from a malfunction, my headphones were not working, and the ultimate horror of being alone with my thoughts occurred. A brief interlude with your humble narrator has been described as exhausting, and that’s when the interviewee is feeling generous or is governed by polite behavioral norms. Long exposures to my uniquely abhorrent personality have been known to induce madness, encourage alcoholism, and destroy all hope for peace. An expectation of normalcy is usually abandoned by those unable to escape my presence shortly after first contact.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My family describes me as best taken in small doses, and does their best to disavow, deny, and distance themselves. Imagine what it must be like, between my ears, as one cannot escape from oneself. With the headphones roaring their cacophony, it is often possible for me to drown my endless narrative of self referential critique and worry, but without them the omnipresence of paranoid wonderings is impossible to evade. What you read in this blog is what I’m like all the time.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Poverty stricken of late, my plan to get every last millimeter of sole from my last pair of hiking boots backfired, causing an injury of some kind to my left foot. Not severe, discomfort is barely noticeable until several miles into a walk, but after a while it becomes uncomfortable. While standing in DUPBO, one wondered if it might be something truly horrible and I began to ponder if it might be foot cancer. This led me to begin thinking about whether or not there was any such thing as “foot cancer” (there is), which led me to begin wondering about all the other aches and pains which I experience and attempted to ascribe a hypochondriacal “worst case” scenario to each.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Constant thought is given to being struck by a truck, or car, or train of course. I also worry about things falling off of buildings- did you know that bricks sometimes just come loose and fall? Falling air conditioners, electrified utility lines, even sinkholes could randomly cross my path. There are feral dogs, packs of rats, hordes of flesh eating centipedes, and aggressive seagulls… One could fall in the creek head first and get stuck in the mud, be drawn into a wood chipper, or end up stuffing a fifty gallon drum after taking a photo of something I shouldn’t have. It is not fun thinking these thoughts, and impossible for me to turn them off. Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of things happen in New York City, things which are admittedly “statistically unlikely” but happened nevertheless- decapitation, bloodcicles, and pineapple with ham on pizza. Oddly enough, I seldom worry about being struck by lightning- go figure.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This is, of course, why I keep my headphones buried firmly in my ears and the volume turned way up, on these long walks around Queens and the Newtown Creek. It’s also why, as soon as budget allowed, a new pair of shoes were purchased, because you cannot run away from imagined dangers when your left foot hurts. The repair to the headphones has been accomplished as well, and as this shadow of what looks like a man strides forth, he no longer is forced to listen to a fear crazed maniac within his head. Still worried about foot cancer though… So many things can happen to you…
deeply hidden
– photo by Mitch Waxman
When your humble narrator was still a boy, certain promises and prognostications were offered by the society at large which have, frankly, just not worked out. Yes, we have the TV which you can wear on your wrist, and there are indeed robot vacuum cleaners… but where are the jet packs and moving sidewalks?
For another set of angles on the LIRR yard at Hunters Point, check out this Newtown Pentacle posting from September 12, “Little Memories“
from 1877′s “Long Island and where to go!!: A descriptive work compiled for the Long R.R. Co.“, courtesy google books:
Long Island City is the concentrating point upon the East river, of all the main avenues of travel from the back districts of Long Island to the city of New York. The great arteries of travel leading from New York are Thomson avenue, macadamized, 100 feet wide, leading directly to Newtown, Jamaica and the middle and southern roads on Long Island, and Jackson avenue, also 100 feet wide, and leading directly to Flushing, Whitestone and the northerly roads.
Long Island City is also the concentrating point upon the East river, of the railway system of Long Island.
The railways, upon reaching the city, pass under the main avenues of travel and traffic, and not upon or across their surface.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Concessions will be made that yes, people these days do indeed dress in the manner of superheroes when exercising- modern form fitting fabrics garishly colored are a common sight. However, personal jet packs have never materialized, and the “meal in pill form” is still not a reality.
from wikipedia
Long Island City station was built on June 26, 1854, and was rebuilt seven times during the 19th Century. On December 18, 1902, both the two-story station building, and an office building owned by the LIRR burned down. The station was rebuilt on April 26, 1903, and was electrified on June 16, 1910.
Before the East River Tunnels were built, the Long Island City station served as the terminus for Manhattan-bound passengers from Long Island, who took ferries to the East Side of Manhattan. The passenger ferry service was abandoned on March 3, 1925, although freight was carried by car floats (see Gantry Plaza State Park) to and from Manhattan until the middle twentieth century.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A game my adolescent friends and I used to play was guessing which future scenario offered by cinematic prophets might be the one that society would end up following. We always hoped for Star Trek, with its quasi socialist and expansionist state- but from my vantage point in October of 2011- our culture has instead lodged itself solidly into a Blade Runner/Robocop style dystopia.
from ny1.com
Residents of a building in Long Island City, Queens say they are near their wits’ end over the noise from train engines that idle all day in a nearby yard, and want the MTA to put the brakes on it. Borough reporter Ruschell Boone filed the following report.
For some Long Island City residents, the sound of idling train engines plow through their day.
“I’m not here to observe it all day. I wouldn’t want to be here five days a week,” said resident Mark Goetz.
“It’s really horrible. I mean, like I wake up to this noise every morning,” said resident Lillian Marchena.
Marchena’s apartment is directly across the street from the Long Island Rail Road rail yard. She says residents have been complaining for years about the diesel engine trains that sit idling during the day.
“It’s actually gotten a little bit better from the beginning when I first moved in, but it’s still a big problem,” she said.
Over the last two years, the LIRR has turned off some of the engines during the day and placed some trains in other parts of the rail yard as part of a compromise, but some residents said the noise is starting to increase again.
“From 7:30 in the morning ’til 5:30 at night, Monday through Friday,” said Community Board 2 Chairman Joe Conley.
It is a harsh reality for new residents moving to the once-industrial area. The rail yard has been there for more than 100 years, but residents want the diesel engines turned off during the day.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
If you were to read the predictions of a century ago, it was all about optimism, locomotive ambition, and confidence. The promise of a pneumatic, electrified, and somewhat insect free world was the dream of the educated class in the early 20th century. When we dream of the future, here at the start of the 21st century, it’s about maintaining health insurance payments and staying ahead of our bills.
Where is my jet pack?
a Newtown Pentacle posting of April 26, 2011 discussed the LIRR yard in some detail- click here for “Squat Creatures”

























