When I saw Daphne Fitzpatrick at a Newtown Creek Alliance Community Visioning Workshop in June, I asked if she would be game for a 24 hour trip.
It might be uncomfortable to try and spend the night in such an active and industrial spot, I warned.
“Sounds great!” said Daphne.
“Do you think there is anyone else paddling around out here today?” asked Daphne.
“I doubt we will see anyone else all day.” I said.
That meant that all the good camping spots would be vacant,
but there are four major sewer outfalls in the southern reach of the Newtown Creek, and you can feel it in the air.
“This whole experience is overstimulating.” said Daphne.
“We could camp in the back of a truck.” I suggested. It would be like our own waterfront condominium.
We decided to keep shopping.
“Now here is a camping spot I KNOW would work.” I told Daphne. It was a kind of balcony on the outer edge of a cement barge. We would be invisible from land, and it looked like the barge had not been moved in years. “We can come back here when we are ready to sleep!”
It was a good thing that we waited.
We stopped by the North Brooklyn Boat Club.
Willis Elkins brought pizza for dinner,
and we watched a slideshow by one North Brooklyn Boat Club member about his river trip in Ireland. “This is an ancient Crannog,” he told us, “a home built out over the water for security.”
Just then we saw our cement barge being pushed out to sea by a tugboat.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t camp there, we would have ended up in the Atlantic Ocean!” I said.
“Or yelled at by an angry tug boat operator.” Willis suggested.
“We need a new Crannog.” I told Daphne.
Willis and Rachel Steinberg joined us for a midnight paddle in ‘Rainbow Sheen,’ their newly crafted work boat.
The entire shore here is lined with the forgotten back yards of industrial Queens,
like this porch that some folks from the North Brooklyn Boat Club call “Cat Goose Beach.”
“I’ve never seen anyone come out here,” said Willis, “and certainly not on a Saturday night.”
Willis and Rachel paddled back, and we set up camp in the dark.
Sounds floated out over the water as if we had passed into another dimension,
It reminded me of The City & the City a science fiction book by China Miéville about two cities that occupy the same geographical space but are separated by strong psychological barrier.
“Well, we may have been the only ones paddling around on the Newtown Creek today, but we are definitely not the only ones sleeping outside in New York City tonight.” Daphne pointed out.
It was true, and the feeling of remote detachment now carried the weight of my own culpability.
I didn’t think that I was sleeping, but suddenly it was morning.
We rolled back up our tents,
and paddled out into the East River,
to see the new Hunters Point South Park.
It was so new in fact, that it wasn’t quite ready for visitors.
This used to be one of my favorite places to come, back before all the construction.
Part of me always wants things to stay the way they are, even the construction sites.
Another part of me can’t wait to see what is coming next.
Along the waterfront, you kind of get to have it both ways.
The tide will always be this way, influenced by the gravitational pull of the sun and the moon, the water will rise and fall just like it did before our ancestors crawled out of it 430 million years ago.
Above the waterline, however, there is always something new, especially right now, especially in New York City.
By the way, these sidewalks are kind of narrow, right? “Do these meet ADA regulatory standards?” wondered Daphne.
A beautiful park on the East River will be great, but it’s basically the front yard of a an expensive new condominium development.
What about the rest of the Newtown Creek?
The population density in the southern part is actually much greater than the tip of queens, but there is not as much access to the water here. It is completely surrounded by gas companies, parking lots,
and empty industrial relics facing right up against the water.
We walked through one of the buildings and talked about the possibilities like imaginary real estate agents.
What was this place, and what could be here in the future?
Either way, it probably won’t be for us,
and the greatest park in New York is right here, out in the water!
“Remember how I said I was overstimulated yesterday?” Daphne asked,
“Well, I still feel that way,” said Daphne, 24 hours later.
(metal pieces, found and arranged by Daphne Fitzpatrick on the Newtown Creek, August 13, 2017)
↑ Return to Top of Page ↑