Spring 1972
by Anthony
Whittier
DOWN
THE GORGE of the Hudson River, past Storm King, Breakneck Mountain,
Bannerman’s Castle, West Point and Anthony’s Nose floats a vision of a
century or more ago. However, this vision is a reality which in turn represents
a vision. The reality is the sloop Clearwater, a replica of the craft which used
to ply the Hudson by the hundreds. She is largely the inspiration of Pete
Seeger, senior Pied Piper of the younger generation. The vision she represents
is also largely Seeger’s — to make the Hudson run as clear as when the
sloops carried cargo and passengers between New York and Albany.
“I
really was surprised at how the beauty of this boat brings people together,”
Pete says, “all sorts of people — rich, poor, black, white, young, old —
different religious groups, too. Clearwater brings them all together in a common
cause.
This
cause, Clearwater’s mission, is to teach people how to clean up the river.
She
sails the New York to Albany route from early April to December (depending on
floating-ice conditions), stopping at towns along the way, inviting people
aboard. Folksong concerts are held and exhibits show the Hudson as it used to be
and as it is now, the causes and effects of pollution, and what can be done
about it. Additionally, arrangements have been made with the local school
systems along the Hudson for special programs, trips and festivals.
The
big word here is “biodegradable.” This refers to the readiness with which a
substance is absorbed back into the environment. The end of a scallion or a
crust of bread, for instance, are highly bio-degradable — beer cans and
plastic cups are not.
Clearwater
practices what she preaches. The only thing that goes over the side is the
run-off from the galley sink and the detergent is — you guessed it —
biodegradable. All refuse goes into plastic bags for disposal ashore and
aluminum cans are flattened for recycling.
The
sloop draws a lot of attention. She is 76 feet long on deck, 96 feet with
bowsprit, and her mast towers 110 feet above the waterline. One of the sports
among the crew, a sort of initiation ceremony, is to climb the rigging to the
crosstrees — about 80 feet above the deck — and then down the other side.
Seeger also enjoys this sport and from his perch gave an echoing Indian yell as
we passed under the George Washington Bridge.
Coming
aboard Clearwater you are likely to hear the sounds of music coming from the
main cabin—guitar, harmonica, autoharp, Jew’s-harp, the singing led by
Seeger and his five-string banjo. The cabin is at once roomy and cozy. On chilly
nights an iron stove warms things up. It replaces a Franklin stove which had to
be removed. People were so fascinated by the dancing flames they left the doors
open and the smoke turned the white-painted woodwork a dark gray.
Only
the captain and mate are paid hands. The rest of the crew are volunteers,
members of the Hudson River Sloop Restoration. Incidentally, the name comes from
the original intention to locate and restore an old sloop and use her simply as
a floating museum of the history of the Hudson River. No salvable sloop could be
found out of the 450 registered in 1860, so a new boat was built and launched in
July 1969. The emphasis of the organization shifted away from history to a
campaign against pollution. As Seeger puts it, “What is the point of a
beautiful boat sailing in ugly water if you don’t try to make the water as
beautiful as the boat? Did you know that Henry Hudson, discoverer of this river
over 300 years ago, described its waters as the sweetest he had ever tasted?”
The
sloop is run by what sailors call “Swedish steam” — muscle power. Members
sign up as crew, 10 or 12 at a time, for a week’s cruise on a first-come,
first-served basis. And on Clearwater, you work. No fancy yachting clothes, no
lolling in deck chairs. Volunteers do everything aboard — raise and lower
sails and centerboard, heave up the anchor, handle docking lines, scrub and cook
— the food is simple, hearty, ample and delicious, prepared on an
old-fashioned iron cook-stove.
Other
forms of exercise include steering. Clearwater’s rudder is about six feet on a
side, a big square of oak. Trying to budge it with the eight-foot tiller in any
kind of a breeze gives you the feeling it is embedded in concrete. Two people
are usually needed—even with the assistance of a light tiller tackle to give
leverage.
Something
more like recreation is rowing Clearwater’s pretty little Herreshoff-designed
yawl boat. She can be pulled by one, two or four people, and with four she
really skims. Your crew mates may range in age from 16 to 60 — the generation
gap seems to disappear in the atmosphere of working together on the variety of
chores that always need doing. The crew may include a conservation worker and
amateur falconer (professionals are in short demand nowadays), a businessman, an
ichthyologist, an engineer, a puppeteer, a ballerina or a lady ventriloquist, so
there is usually good conversation during the long night watches. And there are
few experiences more memorable during an anchor watch than seeing the
constellations wheel slowly overhead, occasional shooting stars, and then the
dawn brighten the east.
Rigging,
as in all old-time ships, constantly needs tightening or overhauling. You are
quickly taught the vital knots and splices and how to use the fid and
marlinespike — as well as the salty terminology that goes with sailoring. The
rigging is complicated and strange things can happen. When I was aboard, the
huge American flag Clearwater flies when under way was being lowered in a stiff
breeze. One of the snap-hooks managed to attach itself to one of the
topping-lifts which support the boom. The mate casually inquired for a volunteer
to be strapped into the boson’s chair and be swayed aloft to free the colors.
No one rushed forward, so he did the job himself. Flag and mate arrived safely
back on deck to the accompaniment of relieved sights from the watchers.
Now,
if all this sounds too strenuous, you don’t have to crew for a week —
Clearwater goes out on day sails, too. Or if sailing doesn’t really appeal to
you, just go aboard when the vessel is in port and look around. The important
thing is that Clearwater needs friends to help carry out her purpose — a
beautiful river once again.
What pollutes the Hudson? Seeger says, “It’s a combination of industrial wastes, improperly treated sewage, and run-off from fertilizers and pesticides. Efforts are being made to correct these practices, but so far, they’re not enough. There’s no doubt that preventing pollution costs money, but what is the alternative? After all, if we don’t solve the problems of our environment, they’re going to solve us.”