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| In April 2002 Justin Riservato volunteered to work on the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater, a 106-foot replica of a popular early 19th-century ship. His month on the ship inspired him to apply for a three-month job from August through October, living aboard the craft as its fix-it man. With the season winding down, Beth and I joined him and his fellow crew for the last tour of the year: Sunday, October 27, 2002. While I figured that Justin's experience was fantastic, this was my opportunity to check the boat out for myself. It was everything I expected and more. |
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While the Hudson River was dotted with sloops throughout the 1800s as a means to deliver cargo (livestock, hay, mail, etc.), the Clearwater's 21st-century purpose is to deliver an education to its passangers--mostly middle and high school students. Its message: preservation of the river and appreciation for the beauty of the sail. Above left (port), science guru Chris (Poindexter) looks up at Justin after teaching about the oxygen in the Hudson River--and how the Indian Nuclear Plant, less than 25 miles north of the city, affects its levels. Above center (starboard), Beth smiles at an eel gathered minutes earlier from the waters. Above right, Beth and a NYC English teacher steer the rudder of the giant sloop while Justin tries to distract. After touring several stations on the boat and learning about various elements of the Hudson River Tributary, the Clearwater crew called for a minute of silence to fully observe our surroundings. We listened to the wind on the sails, the splash of the water, the hum of faraway motorboats, and the low roar of the cars on the West Side Highway. Eventually, Justin, Chris, and another crew member pulled out their guitars to break the silence. Justin sang The Band's, Up On Cripple Creek, and Chris followed with a tune by the late Dave Carter, Gentle Arms of Eden. Both songs were beautiful, fitting nuggets of music on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon on the water. Justin, the sloop's fix-it man with unidentifiable tools hanging from his belt, sings, "If I spring a leak she mends me . . ." Chris, the sloop's scientist, sings of evolution and the greed of men polluting our planet. The song was new to me, but it nevertheless gave me goosebumps. Select verses are below. |
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On a sleepy endless ocean when the world lay in
a dream
there was rhythm in the splash and roll, but not a voice to sing so the moon shone on the breakers and the morning warmed the waves till a single cell did jump and hum for joy as though to say This is my home, this is my only home Now there's smoke across the harbor, and there's
factories on the shore |
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The education of the river was enlightening, but I found
it just as interesting to witness and try to understand the life of
the half dozen or so crew who live aboard, Justin included. The three
photos above were taken stealthily with a digital camera. Above left
(and right), Fidel wraps up his first season as a full-time sailor.
At center, Justin and John enjoy a moment of downtime toward the aft
of the boat. All three men enter the winter's offseason without definitive
plans.
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| The crew above lowers the giant 3,000-pound sail. The first post-Daylight Savings autumnal sunset lit the sky afire, setting the tone for the sloop's final passenger sail of the season. In the days following this tour, the crew will take the sloop on a three-day tour to the end of Long Island for safe winter storage. |
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| At the end of the tour, as the sloop's crew were tying up the sloop to the 79th St. pier, Justin showed us his room, hidden in the fore of the boat. His cozy cabin was decorated with posters of teen idols, books, a guitar case, and a disco ball. |
