The Saugerties Lighthouse is 140 years old this year, built after the Civil War. As old as it is, it’s a young light compared to Colonial era lighthouses. What is the oldest lighthouse in the U.S.? Two lighthouses vie for this title. The first lighthouse built in America was the Boston Light on Little Brewster Island in 1716. However, the original tower was severely damaged by the British during the Revolutionary War and rebuilt in 1784. This makes Sandy Hook Lighthouse in NJ the oldest original lighthouse in America, built in 1764. Both are still in operation.
Question for the Keeper: Oldest Lighthouse in the U.S.
June 28th, 2009Osprey mating fails
June 8th, 2009The opsrey pair gave up the nest in the treetop near the mouth of Esopus Creek. After sitting on the nest for two to three weeks in late April/early May, they started a second round of courtship. They made a half-hearted attempt at a nest on channel marker #93. The previous nest has since fallen out of the tree.
River neighbors
June 6th, 2009I walked down to the Tivoli landing carrying a portable drill. As I strapped it on the back of my kayak, a man standing nearby gave me a quizzical look and asked what I was doing. Short answer: “My neighbor in Glasco needs to borrow a drill, so I’m on my way to meet him to hand it off.”
Long answer: Actually, this isn’t my drill. I borrowed it from Tim, my “cross-river” neighbor in Tivoli, to loan it to Dock, my “downriver” neighbor in Glasco. But it’s not Tim’s drill either. He’s storing it for a friend who’s now in New Orleans. I was drinking Mojitos with Tim this afternoon when Dock called to borrow my drill to work on his sailboat. It was easier to borrow a drill from Tim rather than paddling back to the lighthouse for mine.
The Hudson River is not your typical suburban thoroughfare, but this is my neighborhood nonetheless. And I couldn’t ask for better neighbors.
Cranes, hoists and winches
May 22nd, 2009The winter took its toll on the lighthouse dock. River ice bent and tore the steel pilings. After spring thaw, the dock was sagging at one end and off-kilter at the other. The pilings for the ramp were bent like pretzels. I attached some temporary supports to shore up the sagging portions and waited for warmer temperatures to make the necessary repairs. It’s more pleasant to work near the water when its warm and sunny. Once the water temperature reached 60 degrees, it was tolerable working conditions.
Putting in new pilings required some heavy lifting, so I rented a hoist for the job. I also had a makeshift winch for lifting the dock into position, something my ingenious neighbor devised out of a trailer hitch. Using the hoist to lift a piling into place, I drove the first one into the mud and felt like the work was going to progress smoothly for the other five pilings. Shortly thereafter, a large work barge moored at the mouth of the creek. Pushed by the red tug “Crow”, the barge was equipped with a crane that towered over the lighthouse. The barge belonged to an outfit contracted by the Coast Guard to repair the end of the dike where channel marker #93 is stationed.
The hoist I rented for dock repairs was like an ant to an elephant compared to this crane. I figured that the crane could finish in five hours the work that was going to take me five days. The contractor added rip-rap to reinforce the concrete base of the channel marker. Using an iron claw, the crane lifted massive boulders a handful at a time and dropped them into place at the end of the dike.
The dike was originally built in the late 1880s to define the navigation channel in Esopus Creek leading to the Saugerties wharf. At that time, a beacon was established at the end of the dike to mark the mouth of the creek. It became the responsibility of the lighthouse keeper to not only maintain the beacon in the lighthouse tower but also to row across creek to light the lantern on the dike. This kerosene lantern on a post was the predecessor to what is now designated at channel marker #93, a solar-powered flashing green LED atop a steel frame structure. The ice and waves had started to undermine the base of the marker, causing the whole structure to lean to one side. Over the course of several days, the crane operator added rip-rap until it was piled high and completely surrounded the concrete base of the marker. Yesterday, after the work was completed, the red tug “Cheyenne” arrived and pushed the work barge back north. Meanwhile, I put away my tools, having finished repairing the dock, satisfied that the pilings were sturdy enough to withstand winter’s onslaught for awhile, but wishing that I had a crane-load of boulders to make certain.
Winds of change
April 13th, 2009As the season switches from winter to spring, the winds of change blow fiercely. Lately, the wind has been gusting over 30 mph and creating white caps and 3-foot swells on the river. Anything not lashed down is at the whim of the wind gusts.
Today, I received a phone call from the Coast Guard. “Do you know anything about the boat drifting down the river? Looks like an overturned skiff.” I grabbed my binoculars and took a look around. I recognized the boat. It was my kayak. It must’ve blown off its rack on the side of the deck. “I’ll take care of it,” I told the Coast Guard caller. I quickly grabbed my rain-jacket and paddling gloves as I dashed out the door. As I slid my other kayak into the water, I wondered how the Coast Guard had noticed overturned boat in the river from their station on the creek. My question was answered when I paddled into the river. A large Coast Guard vessel came into view, looming over the lighthouse. It was the 840-ton cutterCatherine Walker awaiting a rendezvous with the local buoy tender. Dwarfed by the 175′ vessel, my wayward 14.5′ kayak bobbed in the wind-driven waves, gradually floating down river. With precise paddle strokes, I came along side the overturned kayak and tied a line to its bow. I towed it ashore, struggling against the wind and current. I rescued the kayak, but it did not survive unscathed. The rudder was torn off, leaving a gaping hole in the stern. A casualty of the wind, but nothing gobs of glue and duct-tape can’t fix.
Question for the Keeper: tide
April 12th, 2009How does the tide clock work? Does high tide occur at the same time everyday?
At the lighthouse, a tide clock adorns the kitchen wall above a regular analog timepiece. The tide clock has a single hand that sweeps around its face pointing towards high tide or low tide or somewhere in between. The hand is geared slightly faster than the hour hand on a regular clock. A regular clock keeps pace with the sun; a tide clock keeps pace with the moon. Unlike a 24-hour solar day, a “lunar day” lasts 24 hours and 50 minutes, the average between successive moon rises. This happens because the moon revolves around the Earth in the same direction that the Earth rotates on its axis. It takes an extra 50 minutes to for the Earth to “catch up” to the moon. As the Earth rotates, two high tides and two low tides occur each lunar day. Thus, high tides occur approximately 12 hours and 25 minutes apart. For figuring out the timing of high tide, it’s easier to consult tide tables than doing the calculations yourself.
First swim of the season
April 9th, 2009Sunny afternoon. After a long run, I took a quick dip in the river. I didn’t linger underwater for more than a second. Water temperature: an invigorating 46 degrees F.
Osprey nest
April 9th, 2009The resident osprey pair is back, and this time they are building a nest not on the channel marker across from the lighthouse where they often perch but in a treetop a few hundred yards up the Esopus Creek. This looks like the real deal, not the false starts we’ve seen in past years. I watched this morning as one of the osprey made repeated trips with materials to add to the nest. To see it, go to the long bridge near the start of the lighthouse trail, walk up the ramp, stop between the third and fourth set of poles, and look south-by-southeast across the creek.
Tom Lake at the NY Department of Environmental Conservation welcomed the news. He said, “As far as we know, there have been no successful osprey nests along the tidewater Hudson. We have seen quite a few false starts and failures through the years.”
Shanties and strawberries
April 7th, 2009Last night, the crew of the sloop Clearwater came over to the lighthouse for dessert. We ate homemade strawberry shortcake. Then, we sang sea shanties. The crew is getting ready for another season of sailing on the Hudson River. Tired of singing the same two or three sea songs all the time, they wanted to expand their repertoire. The favorite shanty of the evening was “Whup Jamboree” (see lyrics below). To round out the evening, we watched the best sailing movie of all time Around Cape Horn by Captain Irving Johnson. By the time the crew readied to depart, the tide had risen across the trail. Undeterred, they waded through ankle-deep tidewater as they left the lighthouse.
[Em] Whup Jam [G] boree, whup jambo [D] ree
[Em] Oh a long-tailed sailor man comin’ up [D] behind
[Em] Whup Jam [G] boree, whup jambo [D] ree
[Em] Come an’ get your [D] oats me [Em] son
The pilot he looked out ahead
The hands on the cane and the heavin’ of the lead
And the old man roared to wake the dead
Come and get your oats me son
CHORUS
Oh, now we see the lizzard light
Soon, me boys, we’ll heave in sight
We’ll soon be abreast of the Isle of Wight
Come and get your oats me son
CHORUS
Now when we get to the black wall dock
Those pretty young girls come out in flocks
With short-legged drawers and long-tailed frocks
Come and get your oats me son
CHORUS
Well, then we’ll walk down limelight way
And all the girls will spend our pay
We’ll not see more ’til another day
Come and get your oats me son
CHORUS
Buzz in the air
April 2nd, 2009Springtime is always a busy time of year for an amateur naturalist like myself. So many things happening in the natural world all at once, it’s hard to keep track of it all. Birds migrating. Animals appearing. Insects emerging. Plants popping up. The ice cleared from the river in the first half of March. Since open water appeared, flocks of migratory waterfowl have been stopping over on their journey north, usually in a frenzy of courtship. Canvasbacks, Hooded Mergansers, Buffleheads, Ring-neck Ducks, Northern Shovelers–to name a few. The resident beaver has been spotted several times, or heard slapping its tail on the water. Last week, with the first rain of late March, green frogs started up with their trademark “clucking” call, which I heard at the wetland pond near the start of the trail. Last night, spring peepers were singing in the rain at the same pond. Two days ago, on the morning of March 31st, the first osprey of the season was sighted, perched on channel marker #93. I haven’t seen it since, so it must be just passing through. Still waiting for the resident pair, which showed up in the first week of April last year. The resident pair of Mallard Ducks are swimming around the dock and shoreline of the lighthouse. The skunk cabbage is emerging from the marsh mud with its distinctive purple and green sprouts. Yellow flag is sending up bright green shoots along the shoreline. Occasionally, a Pileated Woodpecker fills the air with its territorial call. I translate that as “Spring is here!”