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Farewell and Adieu Old Boatmen of Red Hook
Farewell and Adieu Old Boatmen of Red Hook
Farewell and Adieu Old Boatmen of Red Hook
Ebook33 pages29 minutes

Farewell and Adieu Old Boatmen of Red Hook

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An affectionate tale about Old Red Hook, its once-bustling waterfront and the boatmen that worked New York Bay. The old-time junkmen have salt dreams about getting rich by raising sunken rum from the Hudson during prohibition.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMark Morrin
Release dateJan 5, 2019
ISBN9780463370407
Farewell and Adieu Old Boatmen of Red Hook

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    Farewell and Adieu Old Boatmen of Red Hook - Mark Morrin

    Farewell and Adieu Old Boatmen of Red Hook

    Mark Morrin

    Copyright © Mark Morrin, 2019

    Red Hook, Brooklyn, 1929

    I

    The body, under a cover of early morning mist and fine mizzle, floated face down in the water at the foot of Conover Street. Bloated and dead as a drowned man can be. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle described the waxy remains of a forty-five-year-old man, about five feet six inches in height, of medium build with dark hair and a smooth face. It had been in the water too long to say anything more of the appearance. The police pulled out the pockets and found thirty-two cents and an empty medicine bottle. The body was removed to the morgue, its identity unknown. Unlike the man who had, this morning, found it. His name and address were there in black and white for all to read - Michael McAndrew, a junk dealer of 170 Beard Street.

    II

    McAndrew had been working as a boatman in the Erie Basin, ever since he arrived in New York at the turn of the century. He was the first with the initiative to attach an engine to his boat. The sturdy English sailor had acquired himself a reputation as an enterprising man. He had needed to be with a young and rapidly expanding family. When he started out all the boatmen used to have sails and most of the work was done with their arms. He would head out at six in the morning for Elizabethport or Cartaret, New Jersey, where he would meet the schooners, in order to buy their old sails, rope, iron and other things. With the engine on the boat he would make it out quicker and get the best of it.

    A junkman’s fortunes could ebb and flow with the tide. There were times when things were so tight for men on the ships that McAndrew could take his pick for a loaf of bread. Sailors would bring in a personal cargo, bags of tea or coffee, which the captain either did not know about or winked at. He would purchase and resell them, although liquor was now preferred to the old-time commodities. Then there were other stretches when it was hard to know where the next buck would come from. But an opportunity would always appear, often when least expected.

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