This is a post about the first voyage of the U.S.S.B.I.G. – or not the first but at least the very longest.
Stephan von Muehlen and I made the boat about a year ago at a ‘Build It Green’ street fair – that’s an architectural salvage lot in Astoria.
They let us have anything in the whole warehouse to build a boat. We chose some old chairs and tarps and made the U.S.S.B.I.G. in about 5 hours.
Now that B.I.G. opened a new center right on the Gowanus Canal, we wanted to paddle her from one store to the other – backyard to backyard.
The trip would take us 12 miles over water, carried along by some of the fastest tidal current in the world.
Almost imediately upon putting the boat into the East River,
beads of water began to form inside the tarred canvas.
“That usually happens for the first few minutes.” said Stephan. His boat building collective, Mare Liberum, has made some skin-on-frame kayaks like the U.S.S.B.I.G.
Our first stop was to visit some of the floating sculptures at the Socrates Sculpture Park.
A beautiful floating Buddha facing the sun,
by artist Chang-Jin Lee.
We only had a four more hours of ebb tide,
so we struck out down the East River.
We were traveling at a good 6 knots,
and the city slid by as if on film.
I was happy to be making the trip that we had talked about all year.
It was a pretty day to be out,
but we were approaching an area that I was very concerned about.
Last winter I was rowing under the Brooklyn Bridge and almost capsized in the wake of a passing ferry.
“This time,” I told Stephan, “we should portage around the ferry terminals.”
But when we got to the Manhattan Bridge, things looked pretty good.
“I think we should just go for it.” said Stephan.
We waited for a break in traffic,
and then made a run for the narrow channel under the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges.
Water swelled on either side,
as ferry wakes crossed each other and ricocheted against the steep bank.
But the boat handled well,
and we were pulled through by the quickly moving tide.
New York city slipped behind us,
and the Red Hook Container Port came into view.
Things were pretty quiet on a Sunday,
the cranes all waiting for the next big load.
Stephan felt a cold chill as we passed the Buttermilk Channel; site of a harrowing event in Mare Liberum’s history.
We stopped for a rest at Valentino Park‎,
and Stephan went for one of Steve’s Authentic Key Lime Pies (dipped in chocolate).
Now that the tricky part was over, we took stock of our situation;
there was a fair amount of water in the boat,
and we wanted to get most of it out before the Gowanus Canal.
We feared a boat full of Gowanus water might be more treacherous than the Buttermilk Channel.
By the time we got into the mouth of the canal,
the tide was all the way out – as low as I had ever seen it.
I was fascinated to see so much more of the walls that formed the canal.
All the familiar sites were made completely new,
with 6 more feet of foundation and piling.
Our destination was the backyard parking lot of Build it Green,
but when we got there, it seemed like the dock had been pulled out.
We’d have to find another way out.
We were in Stephan’s neighborhood now, and he knew everything about the canal,
about the various water regeneration efforts,
and about this old sunken wreck, the former Empty Vessel.
“I’de like to sit on it one more time.” He said.
I thought that it was truly rare to see the boat so far out of the water.
“Do you ever see it like this?” I asked.
“Sometimes.” said Stephan.
His studio and office are right near by and he passes by the boat every day.
We lifted the U.S.S.B.I.G. out of the water,
and let her drain.
We had come 12 miles in 4 hours. “That’s three miles an hour!” I said.
“It doesn’t sound as fast as it seemed.” said Stephan.
We sat the boat on my bike,
and walked her the 5 blocks to the Gowanus Studio Space.
One day she’ll hang up here on display at Build It Green,
but that is a project for another day.
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