SHIP GRAVEYARD, ROSSVILLE, Staten Island
I’ve been a frequent customer to what I call The Useless Pool, a bend in the Arthur Kill, the waterway separating the west stone island front compass logo t shirt and south of Staten Island from New Jersey. It’s positioned stone island front compass logo t shirt at about Arthur Kill Street and Rossville Avenue within the previously dying city of Rossville, which has since been revitalized by acre upon acre of cookie cutter tract housing.
Founded in the 1950s by Arthur Witte Jr.the yard sits on a desolate stretch of land at the junction of Arthur Kill Highway and Rossville FLOCK Avenue. As soon as described by the new York Instances as an unintended marine museum,” the Witte Marine Scrap Yard accumulated much more vessels than it may dismember, and the boats shortly piled up. Arthur Witte intentionally saved the huge assortment of ships for components, but the wrecks turned a habitat to teeming colonies of underwater fauna. A change in environmental regulation mandated that these eco-programs be untouched and the hulks endured. Over 400 ships inhabit the yard, now recognized because the Don John Iron and Metallic Scrap Processing Facility.
The junkyard is house to considered one of the most important collections of historic boats within the United States and has attracted a deluge of maritime historians from throughout the nation. A few of these craft have tales as gripping because the metropolis of Manhattan itself. The Free Library
Vessels from all decades of the twentieth Century lie in a state of decomposition and rust at this scrapyard at Arthur Kill Road and Rossville Avenue. Most are tugs or cargo ships. The previous piers have collapsed and are for essentially the most half unpassable; these wrecks are officially situated in the Witte Scrapyard and are off limits to the general public, which hasn’t stopped dozens if not hundreds of urban explorers and gawkers from wandering out to these hulks and snapping away. One of the most completed of these photographers has been Sean O’Boyle, whose black and white pictures of those ghost vessels have been iconic. I last visited it in February 2004.
In 2010, the late Bernard Ente handed via and his photos might be considered on this page.
One of many rusting hulks, er, retired vessels is the fireboat Abram S. Hewitt, which was in energetic service from 1903-1958. The fireboat, named for NYC mayor Abram Stevens Hewitt (1822-1903) was constructed by New York Shipbuilding in Camden, NJ and launched the 12 months the mayor died; she served in the NYC fireboat fleet until 1958. It was the last coal-burning fireboat in operation.
The Hewitt, a coal-fired tug …was associated with the deadliest peacetime maritime catastrophe in US history – the burning of the general Slocum. Over 1000 lives perished on the blazing liner, which was stocked with rotten life jackets.
The Hewitt served as a mobile command vessel during the blaze. The ship transported NYC Hearth Chief Edward F. Croker from the East 67th Street Pier to the scene of the conflagration. Retired to the Witte yard in 1958, the Abram S. Hewitt was the last coal-burning fireboat in the new York Fire Department’s fleet. Sadly, the Hewitt’s service is basically unknown. The Free Library
Rossville was once often known as Blazing Star, after a roadhouse or tavern on Arthur Kill Highway (Bulls Head, a couple of miles away, got its title in the same manner). a remnant of the previous name may be found in Blazing Star, or Rossville Cemetery, on the suitable aspect of Arthur Kill Road just before you get to Rossville Avenue (if you’re driving past, blink and you’ll miss it). The cemetery was initiated in the mid-1750s, no less than 20 years before the USA was an impartial nation. A look on the tombstones will reveal a Staten Island gazeteer, a typography exhibit, and an orthography lesson. The perfect time to go to is within the moning, when light illuminates the entrance of the stones, which face east. Bernard Ente was there one current morning.
Bodoni-esque lettering on the stone of Israel Oakley. Lovely vines-and leaves carvings on each sides of the tombstone and an altar-like figure at the top. A Masonic image, maybe At the underside is a curious nscription: H. Osborn, Woodbridge. Doubtless the stonecarver, from the nearby township in New Jersey across the mighty Arthur Kill.
Whoever this was is misplaced to the 4 winds. He or she lived from 1712-1751.
Catherine Marshall (that’s how we might spell it today). The stone monuments of the 18th Century have stood up significantly better to weathering than the later marble monuments of the nineteenth Century did and it’s ironic that the older the stone, the better it’s to learn.
Susanna Marshall. The inscription says: My flesh here slumbers in the bottom Till the last trumpet’s jofyul sound; Then burst the chains with candy shock And in my Saviour’s picture rise.
Until about 1800 printed English used the ‘long s’ which looked like a small f with out the crossbar. The common “s” was used for an intial capital (Saviour’s) and when it ended a word (chains, Saviour’s). Soon after, the small s we acknowledge took over, although the double s in Geman still has a letter that’s orthographically associated to the long s. Other odd letter symbols in English embrace the capital Y in things like Ye Olde Taverne, which is properly pronounced “The Old Tavern” as the Y is an orthographic remnant of the thorn symbol, which represented the ‘th’ sound. The thorn vanished within the medieval interval. Additionally, the X in Xmas just isn’t an X but quite the Greek letter Chi, the primary letter within the Greek phrase for Christ, which resembles our X.