By Johnny Dwyer

Waterfront

Bushwick Inlet

"On Saturday, at 12 1/2 o’clock, the United States ironclad gunboat Passaic which has been known as ‘Ericsson Battery No. 2’ (the Monitor being Number One) was successfully launched at the Continental Iron Works, Greenpoint. As the affair had been advertised to come off, a considerable assemblage was present. The navy was pretty largely represented. Rear-Admiral Hiram Paulding, of the Brooklyn Navy Yard; Commodore Ringold, of the Sabine; Rear-Admiral Gregory, General Superintendent of the Iron Naval Vessels; Chief Engineer Stimers, the superintendent of the machinery of the new ironclads; Naval Constructor Pook, Gen. Hail, Mr. Cushman and Mr. Quintard, were on the platform. Mrs. Stimers, wife of Chief Engineer Stimers, christened the craft, but was too nervous to stand on the ship, and broke the bottle of champagne from the platform, amid tumultuous applause."

Aug. 31, 1862–140 years ago last Saturday–The New York Times reported happier times for the Bushwick Inlet, the former site of the Continental Iron Works, birthplace of the Union’s ironclad warships. Those ghosts may linger in the inlet, but the teardop-shaped cove is quiet now.

Overgrown, the inlet conjures an image of the land purchased from Keskachauge Indians by Dutch settlers in 1638, more than that of Thomas F. Rowland’s ironworks. Cattails rise to the shoulder. The cordgrass carries the thick odor of the countryside at the hinge of bustling Kent Ave. and Franklin St. Crickets sing against the clip of machinery churning out polyethylene bags. Beyond two layers of tornado fence the moorings that once held these ships barely break the surface of the tide. They’re worn and waterlogged, receding into the river and history.

The inlet’s future is at the center of the struggle to define the north Brooklyn waterfront. In late July, Motiva Enterprises, a Shell Oil affiliate that owns the property, terminated negotiations with the Trust for Public Land, a nonprofit that sought to purchase the 2.6-acre inlet. Activists and local politicians are concerned that TransGas Energy, the company proposing a 1100-megawatt power facility on the abutting property, aims to acquire the inlet as a construction site.

"We were recently notified of potential environmental problems," said Shawn Frederick, a spokesman for Motiva, indicating one of several reasons for breaking off talks with the Trust. Frederick also said that Motiva is not negotiating with other parties.

Trust spokeswoman Susan Clark questioned that rationale. "The fact that Motiva would walk away from this for environmental reasons is puzzling, since the community wants to make this place a park."

The community is fighting a war of containment against the proposed TransGas facility, of which the fight for the inlet is the most recent battle. Local activists and developers see the inlet as a vital staging area for any future TransGas facility.

"TransGas is landlocked," Adam Perlmutter of the Greenpoint Williamsburg Waterfront Task Force said. "They want to be able to use these inlets...as a construction area." Perlmutter, an attorney working for the task force, also questioned Motiva’s environmental concerns.

"It’s not a big deal to remediate," Perlmutter said. Nor is Motiva’s problem, he believes; he cites a 1998 Dept. of Environmental Conservation corrective action plan as indication of Texaco/Star Enterprises’ responsibility for cleaning up the groundwater pollution at the inlet.

The community envisions a transformed waterfront: a vacant railroad yard becomes a state park, a trucking depot becomes an NYU sports facility, a sinking pier becomes an esplanade, derelict warehouses and lumber yards become riverfront housing and an overgrown inlet houses a park and museum. With New York up for the 2012 Olympics, Williamsburg could host archery and beach volleyball competitions on the water. The state park, NYU facility and esplanade are in the works. The housing and, in the case of the inlet, the Monitor park and museum, sway in the balance.

"With this hanging over our heads, it’s kind of hard to invest in the waterfront," said Norman Brodsky, chairman of CitiStorage, which owns a 65,000-square-foot facility next to Trans Gas’ proposed site.

TransGas was not available for comment. A letter sent to the community describes the plant as an environmental improvement to the neighborhood, by reducing truck traffic, cleaning contamination on the waterfront and contributing "innovative environmental architecture."

Williamsburg and Greenpoint share a history of environmental burden. According to Williamsburg Watch, an environmental group, the neighborhood has 23 waste transfer facilities, the largest sewage treatment plant on the East Coast, a radioactive- and hazardous-chemical-waste storage facility and 17 million gallons of spilled oil–six million more than the Exxon Valdez spilled–in local aquifers as existing concerns.

"Greenpoint has not only given and given to the nation, but she has given good," said legendary Greenpoint politician Peter J. McGuinness to members of the Greenpoint People’s Regular Democratic Organization, 15th Assembly District, The New York Times reported at the time. That was March 9, 1937. McGuinness articulated a vision of the inlet very similar to what officials and activists hope will be realized within our lifetime.

"Our great President should take over the Continental Iron Works site and make a historic park there, for it was at that spot that our government found our iron ships were good in conflict with other nations, and she showed, while she was small in size, she done a tremendous lot of work in saving our nation and our great President."

McGuinness may have fudged history, but the sentiment was clear: the inlet was indelibly marked by the Monitor. For many residents of Greenpoint, past and present, the inlet is hallowed ground.

"The yard is the scene of incessant activity. It resounds with the unceasing clatter and clangor of hammers. Huge piles of iron plates, and of every material used in the works, lie scattered in every direction, and are being moved hither and thither. Under one of the workshops rest five of the tremendous turrets–partly built–that are to be placed on vessels as soon as they are launched...," the Times wrote of the inlet in September 1862.

Since then, the Bushwick Inlet has waned in prominence and use. The ironworks were dismantled in 1927 and the site was purchased by Angus McDonald, owner of a lumber company, 12 years later. In 1970, Paragon Oil, a division of Texaco Inc., was charged with discharging oil into the inlet.

Local politicians have appealed to Shell to restart negotiations. A letter to Shell CEO Steven L. Miller, signed by Assemblyman Joseph Lentol, State Sen. Martin Connor, City Councilman David Yasky and Congresswoman Nydia Velasquez outlines the community’s vision of the Williamsburg/Greenpoint waterfront: de-industrialized, historically significant, yet largely inaccessible to local residents. A park at the inlet would allow the community to "finally take a breath of fresh air," the letter reads.

Residents now climb through a ripped tornado fence at the base of Huron St. Broken glass litters the fractured docks, bounded on all sides by a series of fences and razor wire. Pigeons feed on bread scattered over a giant American flag painted on the concrete, faded after thousands of sunsets. At the entrance, worn by weather and torn from the parking barrier it had been pasted to, several sheets of the Bill of Rights place the industrial decay along the horizon in an uneasy relief. From this view, the waterfront appears orphaned by history: lonely darkened warehouses, withering docks and piers, expanses of land home only to commercial trucks. The future of the Bushwick Inlet will articulate the next phase in the waterfront’s history. For now, that future remains uncertain.

In 1937, McGuinness looked beyond his tenure and held a hope for his people and his home, "When history is wrote and re-wrote, Greenpoint is going to have its share of credit."

Johnny Dwyer