WEST ISLAND IS BURNING: CARBERY O'SHEA REMEMBERS THE GREAT WEST FIRE ISLAND FIRE OF 1956 AND HOW THE ALAMO STOOD AS A REMINDER UNTIL IT CRUMBLED

The Great West Island Fire: Saltairians to the Rescue by Carbery O’Shea JR.

First published here Nov. 29, 2008

After Labor Day in1956, most Saltaire families had gone back to the mainland for school, but a few village families remained including the O’Shea family. We had a later start at the Montclair schools ad our family extended the summer vacation as long as we could stay.

That September evening around 7 pm, shortly before sunset, a house on West Island erupted in flames. I was out on the sand in front of our bay front home. Suddenly the sky blackened quickly with smoke and flames shot high, soon engulfing the surrounding area of reeds and several smaller buildings.

A crowd of people gathered along the bay front, among them the O’Hare kids from up on Neptune. My feelings of helplessness and powerlessness gave way to masculine urges to do something. Several Saltaire teenagers felt similarly, including Mike Fitzgerald, who got the bright idea to commandeer Chuck Foster’s scow from Clam Cove which was the only boat available in the village. We rounded up some other men from around the village who met us at the dock, including Oliver Hull, who, as I recall, later became the Fire Chief.

http://saltaire38.blogspot.com/search?q=+BAR+HOPPING+IN+OCEAN+BEACH

This assemblage of men met with their shovels and each also had two buckets. By this time, it was dark and several other houses were engulfed in flames and the night sky was lit up. Our adrenaline levels were high. We were about to have our masculinity tested!

As we motored over to the dock to meet the fire crew, we were met at the dock by a formidable force. Our mothers were there banning all of us under 18 from fighting the fire. Our hopes of becoming Saltaire heroes faded into the night along with the hopes of being a real fire fighter. Those volunteers left without us disappointed teenagers to spend the night shoving sand and poring buckets of sand on the reed fires, It was later thought that the fire had been caused by a generator.

My dream to become a firefighter at age 15 with the opportunity to prove my virility and masculinity got squelched that night. But the memory of that fire that lit up the night sky remains emboldened in my mind this many years later,

The names of the men who fought that fire have faded over 50 years,, As far as I know, there has never been a record of that fire in the Fire Island News or mention of it in the Long Island daily papers telling of the heroic roles of the boys and men that year who rallied to the mutual assistance of West Islanders.

I found other fires on Fire Island to fight.: the Lionel Inn in Kismet and also at the Wiedhof house on Baby Prom in Saltaire. This was back in the days when all volunteers were able-bodied mean and boys without much training. All we had was a rusty old model A fire engine and some hose carts stored in fire sheds around the village, None of that equipment would have done any good in the West island fire.

Fire fighting at that time evidenced the community spirit, willingness to serve and the unselfishness of the Saltairians that night. It still represents one of Saltaire’s finest hours in my mind.

There have, I have heard, been other West Island fires, and lore around them included the Fire Islander ferried over men and buckets, shovels. That may been another time. Those were the days. May they live forever.

As visible from Saltaire, my sister Patsy remembers that the West Island fire burned for 3 days and nights, lighting up the sky in a chain of flames shooting up the whole length of the island. She herself, had no desire whatsoever to fight the fire., just to witness it and appreciate its beauty and the reflections of light on the waters of the Great South Bay.

A couple of years later, she sailed over there, anchored the CC and waded through the bottom muck to the island. She explored the charred remains of the burned houses, located fairly sparsely among the undergrowth of West Island as this island had never been very populated. She was surprised how “deep” the island was. That is to say, the dimension of the island not viewed from Saltaire. A couple of year after that she swam over to West Island with a friend accompanying her in a rowboat nearby, but they weren’t dressed for exploration, so they returned to Saltaire.

One of the burned houses on West Island was on the south side, midway down, facing Saltaire. The O’Sheas named it “the Alamo ” because of its white color and shape. Patsy watched it slowly fall into total ruins over these 50 years and now it’s just about invisible, The last visual remnant of that great fire from the perspective of an onlooker at Saltaire is gone. The sands of time take all memory of events away, not only from our minds, but from the land itself. Now nature has reclaimed the island almost totally and many birds make it their home.

Carbery O'Shea Jr

CARBERY O'SHEA JR. IN 1957

ONE OF UNCLE PETE'S BEST COUNSELORS

__________________

Ed. Note: That fire forever left vivid images in the memories of those who saw that fire that night. Now Carbery O'Shea has turned it into a classic for all to remember

Thanx, Carb. Your contribution of this story is a breath of fresh air that we need to keep this blog alive. We editors can not do it without you readers and contributors.

Gentle breath of yours my sails must fill
Or else my project fails,
Which was to please.

Prospero, --The Tempest

Thanx Carb

Jim OHare
George Fontanals

Co Editors
Saltaire38.blogspot.com

JOH said...

CARB,YOU ARE RIGHT, THE O'HARES WERE THERE THAT NIGHT. I DIDN'T RECALL IT WAS AFTER LABOR DAY.

I ALSO REMEMBER SEEING CARBERY SHOVEL IN HAND, OVER AT THE LIONEL WHEN IT BURNED DOWN IN JUNE, 1961.

AND WE ALL LOVED HECKUVA JOB OLIVER HULL

November 29, 2008 9:34 PM

LIZ KELLY chimes in from Vietnam where she is traveling:

I remember sailing over to W. Island with my father in our sunfish and always using "the alamo" as a destination. We'd pull up there, examine how much more erosion since the last summer...then go "deep" into the island and pick wild blackberries for Bisquick shortcake and hand whipped cream back in saltaire that night. This would be an all day affair as my father's approach to rigging a sunfish was itself a 3 hour ordeal. THis summer (2008) I kayaked over and explored the teeny bits left of the alamo. I grabbed a bit of brick from there and imprinted on it is part of the word "fire." Thanks for the historical context everyone.

ELIZ KELLY

Eliz Kelly pix by Perlberger

THE LEGEND OF CAPTAIN BALDWIN AND CAPTAIN MURDOCH


Cosmo reports to Saltaire38.blogspot.com:


Back in the 1940’s and 1950’s, there were two “Baymen” left working the Great South Bay off of Western Fire Island. They were Capt. Baldwin and Capt. Murdoch. Both made their living from the bounty of the Bay, selling fish, clams and oysters to the summer residents. They would ply the waters with rowboats or small dories. I still remember seeing Capt. Baldwin pull up to the Saltaire dock in the early 1960’s when I was still a young boy.

Capt. Baldwin was paralyzed from the waist down, but he had incredible strength in his upper body. There was stiff competition between Capt. Baldwin and Capt. Murdoch for the limited business between Seaview and Kismet, which led to intense animosity between the two. At some point, an agreement was reached whereby Capt. Murdoch sold to the residents of Dunewood, Fire Island Summer Club, Ocean Beach and Seaview, and Capt. Baldwin would sell to Fair Harbor, Saltaire and Kismet. Their animosity reached the point where there was violence on the Bay. Then, one day, Capt. Murdoch disappeared and was seen no more. The rumor was that Capt. Murdoch had been murdered by Capt. Baldwin, thought he was never charged.

Capt. Baldwin lived on an old clam boat on Clam Pond, which was decrepit and half full of water. In the early days, he lived primarily on oysters, which he would shuck, and discard the empty shells over the sided. In later years, as the oysters died off, he switched to clams. As his boat was far from seaworthy, each year he would pull his clam boat further up on the pile of shells, which grew higher and higher each year.

How he survived living through the winters on an old clam boat, half full of water is beyond me. Apparently, he had a small stove on the boat for heat, and an old lounge chair perched in the portion of his boat that remained above water. I recall the story about one winter when Helen Krowlakowski, worried that Capt. Baldwin was starving to death out in the Cove, went out to see him with a baking pan full of pork chops, thinking that it would last him a week, but which Capt. Baldwin devoured on the spot.

I also recall being told how Capt. Baldwin used to work at the Kismet Inn opening clams. He was quite a cantankerous old salt, who hot along with no one. One night, someone else patronizing the Inn got on his wrong side, and despite being crippled, cleared the twenty or so feet across the bar and almost slit the man’s throat before he was stopped.

Robin Wright told me the stories how Capt. Baldwin would run off any of the local kids that got near his boat with a shotgun. One day, Robin, Bobby Aherne (Squirt) and Mike Fitzgerald determined to get a look at the inside of Capt. Baldwin’s boat. They waited until he left to go fishing. What he saw, and what happened to them is best told by Robin.

I vaguely remember that eventually, Capt. Baldwin got to the point where the authorities came and took him away and put him in a home.

Everything related herein up to this point was oral history, but in the mid 1980’s, Bill Goldsmith (aka Bilbo), who is an archeologist by trade, went out to clam cove with my brother Chris in search of the site of Capt. Baldwin’s old boat. Sure enough, the remains were still there. They dug into the pile of shells, finding clamshells on top, but oyster shells further down. There was little left of the boat, as the wood had all rotten away. The only thing that was left was Capt. Baldwin’s old head, which, being made of porcelain was still intact. They brought his head back, and put it on our back deck at 104 Marine Walk. I remember it being a beautiful summer day, and my parents and other local residents were enjoying the day drinking. That night, one of the worst storms I ever experienced at Saltaire struck. Robin Wright woke me in the middle of the night imploring me to help him with the Full House, which was moored off Neptune Walk at the time. The storm was so severe that the wind blew, dragging his mooring, and blowing the boat up against the bulkhead. I had a motor boat at the time, and we went out in the storm and, between his two engines and my outboard, eventually dragged the Full House back out to deeper waters. The next morning, we found that the wind had picked up all the Hobbie Cats on the bay front, blew them up thirty to forty feet, and dropped them back to earth upside down, breaking most of the masts. Clearly, Capt. Baldwin was very angry at his old haunts being disturbed, and worse, his head taken. Bilbo and my brother returned the head back to where they had found it in Clam Cove. Apparently, Capt. Baldwin was appeased, as Saltaire has never seen a storm like it since.



THE FOSSIL SPEAKS: "WHAT COSMO SAYS IS TRUE"


ROBIN WRIGHT IS OUR SECOND SOURCE. HE WRITES:

Chris Hull, Bill Goldsmith and I went to Capt. Baldwin old foundation site,made up of clam shell and oyester shells, to do some excavating.The only thing we found was a piece of an old toilet. That night we had afierce tropical storm. Capt. Baldwins spirit still lives on. We returnedthe piece to where we found it.
--Robin.

OUT OF CALFORNIA THE RELIC, ROBIN WRIGHT POSTS HIS RECOLLECTIONS OF CAPTAINS BALDWIN AND MURDOCK:



Winter 1947-48 Captain Baldwin staked his claim on Clam Pond.That spring Captain Murdock, who lived on his houseboat on the South side on the Pond, disappeared, presumed drowned. Bill Cerveny and Herbie Paine reported hearing gunshots in that time frame - nothing ever came of it. No body = no crime. Captain Baldwin now had the fishing and clam trade in Saltaire and Fair Harbor. He was not allowed in Kismet.On weekends he used to work at Dick Grenameyers (Kismet Inn) shucking clams. He worked for whiskey, and one time he claimed that the bartender shorted his drinks. Words were exchanged and Captain Baldwin pulled a knife and tried to cut the mans throat. Persona non grata after that. He died sometime in the fifties. Helen and Eddie Krolikowski took him to the mainland and he died in the hospital shortly hereafter.

Robin.



Another set of recollections from Beaver/Frank Mina:


Captain Baldwin's residence, though in close proximity to the water in the Cove was basically built from scrap lumber - Frank & Richie McManus ventured down to Capt Baldwin's shack after he died and went inside - it was sort of Beverly Hillbillys' chic. Frank remembers Capt Baldwin selling clams/fish to his mother and that he was able to stand up(possibly disspelling the story that he was paralyzed from the waist down). Frank also stated that Baldwin could have been a world champion rower and confirmed the story I had heard that after the '38 Hurricane Capt. Baldwin was found way down east in his rowboat. Frank claims that there were a number of Capt Murdoch's - they were a large Bayshore family and it was very likely that one or two actually ran ferries in the early days. Gil Clark's mother, according to Frank, was a Murdoch - Gil's full name was Gilbert Murdoch Clark. Frank also said that there were, years ago two Capt. Baldwin's in Fair Harbor - he doesn't know if "our" Capt Baldwin was one of them. Again, all good yarns which make all of posts interesting.


(ed note: first posted Feb 15, 2008)1/11/09

Wharf Rats

Blasts from Our Past: an occasional republication of our best posts. We have posted hundreds of posts; almost a thousand pictures. posts, all of which can be accessed by scorlling down. You can also use our search engine.

Ed. Note: This Post, "Wharf Rats," first published on Jan 4, 2008 generated some some of our largest volume of comments. Back by popular demand: "WHARF RATS"

A picture of some of the Maple Avenue Wharf Rats forty years ago-- summer 1968--- left to right: Sneaky Pete; Noel F. (before his hair fell out); The Chief (who worked on the freight boat); Skinner; Tom Southard (Captain of the Wing Ding); unknown couple; and Larry Neuschafer-Paprocki.

CLICK PHOTO TO ENLARGE

Simpler times - $1.50 for parking. The amount of liquor consumed in that parking shack by Sneaky and Crew could not be accurately measured. Keep in mind that Sneaky Pete and Skinner had once been rumrunners. Frank Mina recalls: "Please note that Skinner's glass is already empty lest Elmer (FI Ferry Owner Elmer Patterson) come around the bend trying to catch Al drinking on the job, one of Elmer's favorite pastimes when he wasn't kicking stones around his own parking lot. That makes the attached photo especially poignant. This picture was 1968. Skinner's last year on the job was 1969."

The Saltaire

Test your powers of observation: How many differences can you spot in the "Saltaire" in these two different images? Post observations in comment section below.

click to enlarge these early postcards.

postcards courtesy Justin Zizes Jr.

DIALOGUE ON CAPTAIN AL

JOH: I HAPPENED TO E MAIL AROUND A COPY OF A POEM BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS. I SAID IT HAD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH SALTAIRE, IT WAS JUST A POEM I LIKE.

BEAVER IMMEDIATELY DISSED IT. ... OR DID HE?

THE FIDDLER OF DOONEY
by William Butler Yeats:

When I play on my fiddle in Dooney,
Folk dance like a wave on the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet
My brother in Mocharabuiee.*

I passed my brother and cousin:
They read in their books of prayer:
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.

When we come at the end of time
To Peter sitting in state,
He will smile on three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;

For the good are always the merry,
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle,
And the merry love to dance.

And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With ‘Here is the fiddler of Dooney!’
And dance like the wave on the sea.

Beaver, always the Philistine, responded:
"Not being quite the erudite, effete intellectual that Jimmy is, my favorite was Al Skinner, sitting on the porch at the ShimShack playing "Shaving Cream" on his accordion."

JOH REPLIES: HEY BEAVER:

SOMETIMES YOU ARE SO DUMB YOU ARE BRILLIANT !!!!!!!
I AM GONNA GIVE YOU A PASSING GRADE ON THAT ENGLISH REGENTS THAT YOU FLUNKED 45 YEARS AGO.IT NEVER OCCURRED TO ME BEFORE, BUT YOUR ADMIRATION OF SKINNER PLAYING AN ACCORDION TO RAUCOUS ADMIRERS IS EXACTLY WHAT YEATS WAS TALKING ABOUT:

"When I play on my fiddle in Dooney folk dance like a wave on the sea."

WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO SEE CAPTAIN AL PLAYING HIS RAUNCHY SONGS AGAIN SOMEDAY?
SOMEWHERE? :
"And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With ‘Captain Al, won't you please play your squeeze box?"
And dance like the wave on the sea.

( I guess it does have to do with Saltaire. I don't think Father Torrey or Father Fitzgibbon would mind if St. Peter let Capt. Al go in first.)


(Ed. Note: this was first posted Jan. 7, 2008)

FIRST TIME OUT: CAPT. FRANK MINA ON THE MAIDEN VOYAGE OF THE CAPT. PATTERSON

Jim, et al.,
I took this pix of the "Capt. Patterson" loading for her maiden voyage to Ocean Beach. It was Friday afternoon, May 26, 1972. The largest luxury liner on Great South Bay for her day. All-in-all, she fared better than RMS "Titanic."
---Capt. Frank

JOH comments: I am glad that you did better than the Titanic, but as I recall on your oceanic trip from the ship yard in Rhode Island some of your crew got a little woozy.

Capt. Frank: I'll not lie (at least this time). I was sick as a dog, but due in large part to the fact that (except for Ed), the "crew" celebrated the launch at the Ho-Jo Motel with all imaginable sorts of brew until about 4:00am with President Ed sounding the wake-up call at 6:00 for an early departure from
Warren, RI to Bay Shore by 7:00. Sporting, as did we all, a significant "overhang", I actually felt reasonably elated until we cleared Narraganset Bay and Dave Farrell started telling sea stories of his Navy days aboard submarines, which gradually sent all of us to the rails (except Ed). The best cure for seasickness is to actually be at the helm. I was given the privilege of piloting the "Patterson" through the inlet and into the berth at Bay Shore. Docking the "Patterson" was both a thrilling and terrifying moment, considering that we only had about two feet to spare and a whole lot of people watching and waiting for a mistake. Then, obviously, we went for beers at Porky's.
---Capt. Frank


JOH asks the obvious: If you were so scared that you only had two feet to spare, why didn't you just move the F.I. Flyer to another berth?

Saltaire's Founders, 1911

1911 Photo of Capt. Paterson and the principals of the Fire Island Beach Development Corp.

Photo Courtesy Frank Mina

CAPTAIN FRANK MINA VERIFIES ITS PROVENANCE: NOW YOU CAN BUY A FIRE ISLAND FERRY BOAT: LEGIT

As listed on EBay:

CHECK OUT THIS E BAY LISTING FOR A BOAT FOR SALE A "RUMRUNNER STYLE" BUILT IN 1943 (LONG AFTER PROHIBITION) THAT SERVED "A STINT AS THE FIRE ISLAND FERRY."

The Socks its Not:

Here is the listing:
1943 63' mahogany ferry
Vehicle Description
1943 Rumrunner style wooden boat built by the Miami Shipbuilding Co. seeks new owner. Needs to be re-powered and possibly re-planked. Currently docked in the Gowanus Canal and will need to be moved. 63' by 15', large cabin with separate head and back porch area. The cabin space contains numerous windows for plentiful light, including a large window in the stern side. The head area contains original 1940s drop-down sink with drainage. There are spaces under the main cabin that can be converted into rooms or storage. Large roof area for entertaining. The kitchen area contains a hand-made table which folds into the wall, below which is a claw-foot bathtub with drainage. She's wired for electricity and could be worked for running water and heat.Our beautiful boat started life as a rescue vessel before doing a stint as the Fire Island Ferry. We have put two years of love and work into her, and we hope to find someone who will love her as much as we have. Her possibilities are endless: she could make a wonderful liveaboard, space for entertaining or project boat for someone who loves wooden boats with history. Currently registered in New York State by single owner. Buyer must transport her from the Gowanus Canal at their own expense.


FRANK MINA KNOWS THE HISTORY OF THIS VESSEL, (HE IS NOT VOUCHING FOR ITS CONDITION, HOWEVER):


Capt. Frank said...

Jim,

She is the "Point 'O Woods v" an ASR (AIR SEA RESCUE) built by Miami Shipbuilding in 1943 the same folks who built the "Fire Islander" in 1942. She was converted to a ferry in 1985 by the same Scopinich family that did the "Fire Islander" in 1952. Design was originally planned by Capt. Patterson and Artie Weiss, long-time captain for the POW Association.

---- CAPT FRANK MINA

INSIDE INFO FOR BIDDERS FROM CAPT FRANK MINA:

Capt. Frank said...

Jim,
No one should bid over $52,254. That's what Scopinich charged POW. Oh, plus they took the POW IV as a trade in :-)

SOMEBODY PLEASE CHECK OUT THIS LISTING AND LET ME KNOW WHAT WE ARE LOOKING AT HERE: http://cgi.ebay.com/ebaymotors/1943-63-mahogany-ferry_W0QQcmdZViewItemQQ_trkparmsZ66Q3a2Q7c65Q3a10Q7c39Q3a1Q7c240Q3a1318QQ_trksidZp3286Q2ec0Q2em14QQhashZitem110302664290QQitemZ110302664290#ebayphotohosting

The Stranger Loading Up for Saltaire, 1919

Click images to enlarge

Look closely. Is that the Stranger above, loading for Saltaire at

Bay Shore in 1919?

What has to be the future "Fire Island Maid" is shown in lower photo, taken sometime later

(ed. note: since this post, the boat in the picture has been identified not as the Fire Island Maid: it is the Traveler II from about 1935. See also Mooney, Ferries to Fire Island 1856-2003 at p. 76. The Traveler II Photo is a post card and was not taken from the Mooney treatise.)

Derf said...

Nice one Jim, the good old Maid. I always thought that was sort of an unfortunate name for her.

October 25, 2008 5:58 PM

Capt. Frank said...

Jim,
I think that may be the "Eladio" loading at the dock Saltaire used on the southwest corner of what is now the "west parking lot" for FIFI. Note that the building to the right is the Murdock fish factory where young Gilbert Murdock Clark began serving up that "Gily Clarks Chowder". Now Molly Malone's for you youngsters.

The other picture is not the "Maid" which was a converted fishing trawler named the "Viking Sr." This one looks more like the "Traveler II" which was longer and narrower than the "Maid".

October 26, 2008 6:13 PM

JOH: THIS IS A GREAT DIALOGUE AND HOW THIS BOG IS SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION. KEEP IT UP EVERYBODY.

FRANK: WAS THE ELADIO COMMISSIONED BY 1919?


ALSO: WE KNOW THERE WAS A SALTAIRE MADE BY THE CC COMPANY AND IT WAS AT THE DOCK DURING THE HURRICANE OF 1938, AND I HEARD OF THE SALTAIRE III AS A PREDECESSOR TO THE ISLANDER , BUT WHAT ABOUT A SALTAIRE II?


And is it true that Gil Murdock Clark was related to the Capt. Murdock that Capt.Baldwin put to sleep with the fishes in the Cove?

WE HEAR FROM A GREAT OLD FRIEND

click to enlarge

JEFF WEINLANDT AND DUNCAN DOBIE, 1955

Photo by Bill Weinlandt, courtesy Jeff Weinlandt

DUNCAN DOBIE, ONE OF OUR GREAT FRIENDS FROM THE 1950's IS A WELL KNOWN AUTHORITY ON HUNTING, FISHING, AND THE GREAT OUTDOORS. HE IS A WELL PUBLISHED EDITOR OF HUNTING AND FISHING MAGAZINES AND BOOKS. HIS GRANDMA WAS AN OLD TIME SALTAIRIAN, WHO FOR MANY YEARS OWNED A HOUSE ON THE DUNES THAT WAS SOLD TO CHARLES COLLINGWOOD IN THE LATE 1950'S AND IN TURN TO LIZ CLAIBORNE SOME TIME AFTER THAT. SO WE HAVE NOT CROSSED PATHS IN HALF A CENTURY BUT WE REMEMBER HIM LIKE LAST WEEK. HE RECALLS SALTAIRE FONDLY.

I SUSPECT HIS LOVE OF THE OUTDOORS WAS NURTURED IN SALTAIRE, SINCE WE ALL REMEMBER STORIES ABOUT HOW GRANDMA DOBIE WOULD WAKE UP THEIR HOUSE EVERY MORNING AT ABOUT 4:30 AM AND WALK TO THE LIGHTHOUSE AND BACK COLLECTING ALL KINDS OF CHARMING FLOTSAM AND JETSAM FROM THE BEACH. THE DOBIE HOUSE WAS WELL DECORATED WITH TREASURES FROM THE SEA AND THE BEACH.

SO WE REACHED OUT FOR DUNCAN DOBIE AND WE FOUND HIM. HOW MANY MORE OLD FRIENDS ARE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE THAT WE CAN REACH IF EVERYBODY CHIPS IN ON THIS GREAT WEBSITE?

WHAT DUNCAN WRITES SHOWS WHY THIS BLOG EXISTS:

Hi Jim,

This is unbelievable. Thanks for contacting me. I’d love to contribute. I’m sure everyone tells you this, but my summers spent at Saltaire are among the happiest times in my life and many of those great memories are still as vivid as if they happened last week. Seeing the names on this list made chills go down my back. I have many old photos taken in the ’50s and I’d love to share some photos and stories. Like all of the others who shared the experience, I could write a book about those golden days. Actually I have written a few stories about fishing on Fire island. I’m aware of the deer problem. I’ll start digging out some old black and white photos and get them scanned. Please tell Jeff, Larry Lynch and everyone else I said hello.Again thanks. You just made my day!

Duncan

ONLY ON SALTAIRE38.BLOGSPOT.COM

The Trip to Saltaire in the 1960's

A Common Sight on the way across the Bay.

The following notes in italics were added by editors, not by Cosmo:

Contributor Beaver recalls

Robin Torrey and his family were one of the most memorable and beloved families that has passed through my life - either in Saltaire or across the bay in America. From the first time my family met the Torrey's(when their rented boat sank in a storm one night in '58 or '59) till the last time I saw Robin at one of my parents memorial service @ St Andrews.

Seeing Cosmo's posting of the GSB clammer reminded me of the summers that Robin was going to strike it rich digging clams. Early mornings when Capt Al would run the Islander across the bay we'd see over 100 clam boats plying the waters of the bay in search of clams. We'd leave Bayshore at around 10:20am for the trip back to Saltaire arriving around 10:45-11:00(depending on whether we'd have to stop @ Kismet). Entering the Saltaire marina we'd normally encounter Robin who, half asleep, would be heading north to the clamming grounds off Bayshore to ply his chosen trade. He'd normally be sitting in the boat strumming his guitar and steering the boat with his feet. Skinner's normal comment would be "look at that God Damn guy - any clammer worth his salt would have his day's pay dug by now and be on his way in - and what's he expecting to do with that guitar - serenade the clams to the surface and scap them in with a net?" Whenever I see the reruns of Forrest Gump on his shrimp boat and the guy says to him "if you caught a few more shrimp you could have a shrimp cocktail" I think of Robin.

JOH responds: Beaver: Your writing is improving. You end with "I think of Robin." Is that like "I think of Dean Moriarty?? (click "comments" below for the exact quote)

April 8: More on the history of Clamming in the Bay from the Beaver:

Here goes -

Clamming on Great South Bay

Clamming and the shellfish trade in general(oysters/scallops) was a major industry on the Great South Bay until the early 1970's when the industry essentially collapsed. The reasons for the collapse can generally be attributed to pollution(run-off from commercial/residential land on the south shore), the brown tide(algae), and lack of sufficient flushing of the bay eco-system by water flow from the ocean.

The South Shore of LI was through the early 1900's one of the prime area's for harvesting oysters(the famous Blue Point Oyster for example). That industry, as a result of pollution, had largely collapsed by the end of WWII. Up until the early 1970's the waters of Great South Bay provided upwards of 700,000 bushels of hard clams which in turn supplied over 50% of the nationwide demand for these tasty bi-valves. Through the mid to late 60's it was not uncommon to see upwards of 100 clammers working the waters off of BayShore. A competent clammer, if I remember Capt Al's teachings, could harvest at least five to six bushels of clams a day. I think little neck and/or cherrystones would bring $10-15 or more a bushel in those days. It was a great way for High School and College kids to make a buck during the summer - although backbreaking work for those that did it year round in any sort of weather. Trucks from the city fish markets would line up on the end of Maple Avenue early each afternoon to buy the "catch" as the clammers came in

Clamming is essentially a forgotten pastime for VOS residents today. Many of the newer residents of the village wouldn't know what a clam was if you threw one at them and hit them in the head with it. I'm sure today you could convince these same people that clams are caught by using fishing poles with shiners as bait. As youths it was common to wade into the shallow waters nearly anywhere off the bay beach or Coffey Point and within a short time have "treaded" enough clams to make either clams on the half shell, clams casino, baked clams, or clam chowder. Also common, in Clam Pond Cove were succulent scallops. I remember every Fall Mrs. Torrey basically sweeping the bay bottom of the cove "clean" of scallops which she then shucked, put in Tupperware containers and then froze - providing the meatless Friday fare to Father Torrey, the Clam King(Robin), Kenny, Raymond, Brucie, and herself. In actual fact maybe it wasn't the pollution that led to the demise of scalloping in the Cove - maybe it was Mrs. Torrey.

Thanx, Beav. More comments below. Add your own, everybody

The Gateway to Saltaire.Awaiting the Flyer at the Bay Shore Dock.

From Beaver's History of the Bay, (continued)

The Fire Island Flyer actually was NOT a rumrunner in the true sense of the word. She was built in the Consolidated Shipyard somewhere in NJ with the intent for her to run rum - I remember Capt Al, a rumrunner himself, saying that she was supposed to be the "Queen of the Rumrunners" - She was 65' long and was supposed to have 3 Liberty airplane engines(about 400hp apiece). She would have been quite fast for her time - however Prohibition was repealed before she ever ran a case of rum. Capt Patterson bought the hull in the late 40's early 50's, turned her into a ferry and the rest is history. I believe they sunk her in the vicinity of Jones Inlet(also the resting place for the Fire Islander) as a fishing reef. I think though that she "broke up" after being sunk.

--Beaver

Beaver adds:

"I know that Derf has expressed affection for both the water Taxi Socks and the original Fire Island Flyer"

The Socks had, originally, been a 38' Chris Craft commuter(an original restored sister ship used to anchor off of the lighthouse dock in the early 60's). Socks was at some point converted to a water taxi. She was owned by Dick Gunther who purchased her after his original water taxi lapstreak skiff was rammed and sunk one night off West Island by some drunk in a boat coming out of Kismet. Next Socks sstory - I remember getting so drunk at Gils one night with John Glascock that we couldn't find our car and ended up sleeping on the Socks. Anyway, after Gunther gave up the taxi business she was purchased by some guy named Frank "Monkey" Mina. He extensively refurbished her and in the years he owned her probably never took her out on the bay. When Frank eventually sold it the boat left the greater Bay Shore area. Eventually a former F.I. Ferries captain named Will Brogan purchased her. At some point in the past 15 years she changed hands again and according to Frank Mina she is somewhere out in eastern Long Island.

The Fire Island Flyer - During the time that I worked as a feryboat captain I had three memorable trips on the Flyer

1. One Sunday afternoon coming out of I think Fair Harbor I was diverted to Kismet to pick up an overflow crowd that the main boat couldn't handle. The old wooden boats weren't the dependable marvels that the new steel boats are today. The center engine was a "pusher" - no gear box so you'd shut it down approaching a dock the port and starboard engines had throttles that had what they call "stops" on them - essentially the stop was a pin installed in the throttle assembly that prevented you from pulling the throttle back past the stop thus stalling the engine. Well, unbekwonst to me no one told me that the stops were broken. As I approached the dock I pulled the throttles back(unwittingly past the stops), the engines all stalled and "Baboom" I hit the dock hard splintering and breaking a hole in the "gunnel" on the port side. Shaken, by this crash I had to have Capt Patterson, who sitting on the porch of his house in Kismet, had witnessed the crash landing of The Flyer. Beaver later added to this story: " After I slammed the Flyer into the dock that day, I was too shaky to run the boat on my own and Capt. Patterson ran it back to Bay Shore for me".
   
2. One extremely foggy saturday morning I was taking a trip out of Saltaire/Kismet - at the time the radar sets on the ferries were less than dependable(i.e. most of the time they were broken). I didn't realize it at the time but the deckhand had placed a metal squeegee behind the compass so that when I pulled out of Kismet the compass disk just started spinning like a record on a record player. I was immediately lost in "pea soup" fog. Not knowing where I was, other than somewhere immediately north of Kismet, I ran hard aground on Farm Shoals. At that point I noticed the squeegee, removed it and the compass stopped spinning. Much to my surprise I was able to extract the boat off Farm Shoal and then proceeded to Bay Shore.
3. Fire on the Fire Island Flyer - one sunday afternoon I ran a trip out of Ocean Beach - it was a full boat(117 people +2 deckhands). While running down the east way I smelled burning wood, I noticed an inordinate amount of smoke emanating from the center "dry" exhaust(which vented through the top of the cabin midship). I sent the deckhand to check, coining the old adage that "where there's smoke there's usually fire" he came back to inform me that yes the boat was on fire. I asked him to very quietly take the fire extinguishers(being carefull to not alarm the 117 passengers and causing a replay of the General Slocum tragedy) and attempt to extinguish the fire. This was done, I shut down the center engine and eventually got to bayshore with none of the passengers any much the wiser.

Running those old wooden boats was much more of an adventure than the current steel boats. Talking with George Hafele (the recently retired president of FIFI) he said "Gee Beav, it's not the same today as running the boats when you worked here, today they won't let you run them while you're drunk"

Looks like Derf is not the only Flyer Lover...Cosmo O describes this trip across the bay.

I recall a Friday afternoon in September or October. I was late and missed the One o'clock and the next ferry wasn't scheduled to leave until 4:30. Resigned to a long wait I retired to the bar at Porgie's for a few beers. Shortly thereafter, Warren (whose last name I do not recall) walked in and said hello. I described my predicament and he said that he was going across for a scheduled run back from FI, and offered to take me across. I grabbed a couple of extra beers and the two of us took off on the Fire Island Flyer. We were having a grand old time in that little wheelhouse, drinking beers and whatnot.....Well it turned out that there were storm conditions on the Bay. The winds had to be blowing in excess of 40 mph and the waves were quite large. The Flyer would rock all the way back and forth, with the gunnels hitting the water on either side. The only way I could stand without being thrown to the deck was to stand in the little wheelhouse with my hands pressed against the walls. Warren mentioned that his only worry was the Flyer getting either caught between two waves or on top of a wave, which he claimed could cause the boat to twist in two pieces and quickly sink to the bottom.

We made it to Fair Harbor and picked up a group of passengers and proceeded to Saltaire. Warren told me to get up on the bow and jump on to the dock when he got close enough. I successfully made it on to the dock and Warren left for Bay Shore. I don't think he found out until he was half way to Bay Shore that there were about a dozen people on the Saltaire dock waiting to return to the Mainland he had left behind. They asked me when I got off what was going on, but I just shrugged and walked off.

Our resident Fire Island Ferry expert, Beaver responds:

Cosmo it could only have been Warren Bonavia, the old Flyer was Warren's favorite boat.

The best Warren Bonavia story I recall is as follows - Warren was running the old Firebird to Fair Harbor one Friday night - I don't remember if I was going to the beach or coming back but..........we're tied up by the spring line to the slip in FH - there's two people that were saying goodbye (one going and one staying) - the one staying couldn't tear themselves away from the person leaving - Warren yells "last call all aboard those that are leaving all ashore those that are staying" He's now running late and he tells the deckhand to shut the gate. He throws the engines into reverse and starts to pull away from the dock. The guy that had been saying goodbye to his friend is still on the boat. He yells to Warren "What am I supposed to do now, how can I get back to Fair Harbor?" Warren responds "For all I care you can jump overboard and swim to FH" At which point Mel Brooks, who's in a seat up forward ,stands on top of his seat, starts waving his arms in the air and screaming "Jump! Jump!" At Mel's prompting the people on the boat start yelling "Jump Jump" The guy is getting antsy by this point and he asks Warren what should he do to which Bonavia responds "I don't care if you swim back to Fair Harbor we're going to Bay Shore" The guy puts his glasses on the deck and jumps overboard to the cheers of Mel Brooks and the crowd, He's in the water and yells to Warren "Hey, what about my glasses" Warren picks them up, throws them in the guys direction and says, "Here Catch"

The Saltaire Market c. 1960

JOH:

Thanks, Cosmo for Great Pictures that started great postings, particularly from Beaver.

More postings on this subject or any others always welcome at Saltaire38.blogspot.com.

JUSTIN STOPS BY WITH TWO GREAT ANTIQUE POSTCARDS.

(THIS IS HOW THIS BLOG IS SUPPOSED TO BE : A TEAM EFFORT. THANX TEAM MATE JUSTIN)



Postmark on above card is 1926 click to enlarge

click to enlarge
Both Photos copyright Justin Zizes Jr. (No, he did not take the pictures. He is not that old, but they are still his and he reserves all rights to them. )

Kirsty Alley

Another story- This past August I was out on the paddle-wheeler out of Bay Shore (the "Kirsty Alley"?) with the South Shore Estuary Reserve Council, and was up in the wheelhouse meeting Capt. Mike Eagan. Upon noticing my name tag, he asked "Are you any relation to Ollie Hull?" I replied "Did you know my old man?" to which he replied "No, but I sure heard of him!" That's when I learned that he had been a captain on the F.I. Ferries, and had known Capt. Al very well. When I asked if he had ever been in the 'Shim Shack' he said nothing and looked away. He gave the same response when I asked if he had ever spent time in the Saltaire parking lot with Sneaky Pete.


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