Old Ports – Long Island Boating World

In this edition we feature a chapter from our writer, Mark C. Nuccio’s, latest book, “Just this side of Heaven”.
Written under the auspices of New York State and Long Island Traditions, it deals with protecting our fresh water, bays, creeks, ocean and remaining open spaces. Mark’s book contains 12 essays, 43 poems, 67 drawings and 24 full color artworks, all by this artist/author. Enjoy!

As Long Island developed, so did Ports for Trade, especially for clever captains who wished to avoid heavy tariffs inflicted on imported goods at the docks in colonial New York City. Soon small harbors on the North and South shores began doing a brisk business in accommodating trade vessels. It is easy to imagine, in your mind’s eye, tall masts crowding skies over Port Jefferson, Huntington, Cold Spring Harbor, Oyster Bay, Greenport, Sag Harbor and of course “Freeport”, named to advertise “No Tariffs”, if you unloaded there. It was cheaper to dock, off load, and send your tariff free goods by land to New York City. Even Babylon was in on the action. The Coopers owned sloops in the China trade and they would off load in Sumpwamps River. One of their ships was named, “Free Trade” and was captured by the British while running contraband to New England during the War of 1812. Some ports harbored fleets of whaling ships adding richly to those ports economies. Sag Harbor had the largest whaling fleet on Long Island, Greenport also had a fleet. Cold Spring Harbor, Huntington and Port Jefferson had a few whaling ships each. Some of these northern ports, like Port Jefferson, had large ship building facilities and many of the smaller boat building operations were on the South Shore. Ernest Hemingway’s famous boat “Pilar” was built in 1934 by Wheeler Boats in Brooklyn near Coney Island. (Again – yes Brooklyn is Long Island!)
As you walk on these old sea town streets, below today’s modern asphalt, you may find the original roads made from ballast stones from these ships. Certainly there are some still to be found on streets in Brooklyn and lower Manhattan. while strolling these towns you wil find open areas by the docks, called “Landings” that are now used for retail visitor parking. These once were important places to stage cargo and supply the ships. Imagine Greenport and Sag Harbor more than a century ago. Right on the pier there would be enough room for sailmakers to spread out a large canvas to sew. Ships chandlery shops would lay out cords of rope to cut to specification, and barrel makers (coopers) delivering barrels to ship. The smokey blacksmiths shop would be making new hardware for the ships (There is still a blacksmith shop near the docks in Greenport).
Added to this busy mass of humanity would be horse and ox drawn wagons off loading food stuffs, barrels of ale (sailors didn’t drink water because it would go bad on voyages). A ship could be away for years and they had to have everything aboard they would need. There would also be confusing activity, people calling, shouting, laughing, cursing, crying, until the ship was out of view. Then they dispersed and the landing was empty and silent. So it was in every port of call on Long Island.

OLD PORTS (poem)

1840 states the plaque
Ship master, Sailmaker, Captain, Cooper
All sailed from these ports.

Nestled along the coast
Church spires still stand defiantly
As if to sing love songs to the tall masts
That no longer sail from these harbors.

The songs still sinf to those
Who do not forget the past.

SAILMAKER (poem)

“John, I need a back up mainsail made, we be sailing out in a fortnight”.

“Abe, what happened to that heavy on I patched for your last voyage?”

“Abe, but you’ve been back nigh six months and now it’s to be a mighty rush for me.”

“Abe, I spent to much time with my wife, you know how it is with the sailing life.”

“John, I know it’s hard to be away from land. In two days, the sail will be in your hands.”

THE BLACKSMITH (poem)

History lives in the Greenport Smith Shop with its white hot fire breathing bellows and its ancient cold iron anvil.
The Smithy retrieves an iron ingot from the fire with his long tongs and leather gloved hands. Sweat beads form on his brow as he pounds and pounds with his heavy hammer as whaler’s land tip begins to shape, that once finished and made razor sharp, will throw straight and true by a muscled whaleman to hit the magic mark.

But this lance is a decoration in the local seafood shop. Its history and craftsmanship sometimes are ignore because everyone is looking at the fish prices in the display and not looking up.
“So how much is a pound of peeled shrimp? Are they on sale today? The medium ones?” Give me a quarter pound, please, peeled and deveined, please!
“You’re out of your mind, lady” the purveyor mumbles under his breath.

SAG HARBOR (poem)
(Memories of John Steinbeck)

Walk the streets past old whalers church with its Egyptian temple motif and the clock factory, now fancy condos. Make your way down to the old wharf scene of a colonial victory for independence and a thousand whaling voyages.

Sitting on a bench, staring at the water is an
elderly man with a dog, named Charlie.”
“How are you John, I say to the gent?” “I’m fine, just back from traveling America with good old Charlie here. America sure looks different now.
Seems some spirit has gone out and replaced with giant pick-up trucks. Everyone needing the latest gimmicks. Nothing like when I eked out a living in “Frisco” struggling to write “Cannery Row”, “Of Mice and Men”, “East of Eden”, “Grapes of Wrath”, and “Voyage to the Sea of Cortez”!

“How did you end up in Sag Harbor?” I inquire. “Could say tain’t none of your business” he says. “But old Charlie and I sit looking at these yachts, giant white fiberglass blobs, ugly as sin. We came here longing for those days’ past when Sag Harbor smelled of fish and varnish!” “Didn’t we Charlie? Didn’t we? Guess we’re both ghosts of the past. Aren’t we Charlie?Aren’t we?