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June 7, 2008

A Newborn Ferry Terminal

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Early this morning, across from the World Financial Center, I was startled to see a brand new, partially constructed, glass-gabled, cathedral-regal ferry terminal being coaxed into place by two large tugboats, a red and an orange, while a little white-and-blue Push Tug stood by, aft of a barge, rather like an observant midwife. Conceived in Louisiana, the ferry had been floated over from Brooklyn, only a few hours before. As part of the berthing process, there were a couple of immense barges, like inert brown sea cows, whose hodgepodges of barge-clutter--domes, cylinders, spheres, wheels, rectangles, trusses, rope-loops, etc.--resembled the standards of Precisionist iconography.
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The little Push Tug was so close to the railing at the esplanade that I could talk with the captain as if gabbing with a neighbor over a picket fence. I seized the chance to ask about something I should have resolved before my parents died. Had he ever heard of a “Tracy Tug"? “No," he replied, "not specifically; but it might be the name of one of the old-fashioned McAllister tugs, like the one at Pier 17. They all had girls’ names." I said, “While my mother was in the hospital, waiting for me to be born, she said she watched the Tracy tugs from her window, trawling up and down the Hudson. She became so fond of them that she considered naming me Tracy. I never thought to ask her more about it, and I’ve not been able to find any reference to Tracy Tugs. Anyway, it’s a moot point, because after all that, she named me Jane.” The tugboat captain gestured with an elaborately tattooed arm and said, “Well, now, that’s this tug’s name. Her name is Jane.”
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(But spelled Jayne.)

Posted by Jane on June 7, 2008 11:08 AM

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