We watched with bated breath as the ferry
Adirondack approached the dock in
Burlington, Vermont. It was in the late
morning of Wednesday, August 20, 2014, and Miss Patty and I had just driven
across two states in order to sail aboard this great ship. As the vessel eased gently into her berth, we
noticed the name board that identified her as the Adirondack mounted on the pilothouse just under the large
windows. Right below that, another
inscription gave the date, 1913. These
two simple signs told the world proudly but quietly that the Adirondack was over one hundred years
old! Very few ships have become
centenarians, but the Adirondack was
one of them. Furthermore, unlike most
of her contemporaries, she remained in revenue service, crossing Lake Champlain
every day. On this day, it would be our
great privilege to sail with her.
We had crossed Lake Champlain with our
four children on ferries previously. We
sailed aboard the Champlain on July
2, 2001, and aboard the Valcour on
July 31, 2002. These were magnificent
voyages on a large and beautiful lake surrounded by pristine mountains. The
crossing from Burlington to Port Kent, New York, just south of Plattsburgh,
took an hour. The return voyage took
about the same time. For us, though, it
always seemed too short. The dark blue
water rushing past the hull, the verdant mountains rising majestically on both
sides of the lake, and the light blue sky laced with billowing white
altocumulus clouds all beckoned us to stay with them and not return home. Well, we needed to go home, but we also
needed to come back. And when the Adirondack reached her one hundredth
year, we decided we must take our next voyage with her.
We boarded the Adirondack eagerly and got comfortable on the upper deck where the
views would be best. At the appointed time, and after taking on a
full load of vehicles and passengers, the Adirondack
set sail. Easing gently away from her
berth, the great ship headed north and out of the harbor sheltered by the
Burlington Breakwater. On passing the
small lighthouse that marks the northern point of this jetty, the vessel
accelerated and set a more northwestward trans-lake course for the New York
shore. A peaceful, quiet, and restful
voyage followed. For an hour we imbibed
the natural and unspoiled beauty of Lake Champlain and the surrounding mountain
ranges as the ship rode smoothly and gracefully through the calm blue water. That it was the fresh water of an inland lake
and not the salt water of the open ocean made no difference; the voyage was
still, in Shakespearean terms, “a consummation devoutly to be wish’d.”[1]
With the leisure time that such a voyage
affords, I thought of the long career of the Adirondack. She had come to
life as the South Jacksonville of the
Jacksonville Ferry and Land Company in 1913, and she served on the Saint Johns
River between downtown Jacksonville and South Jacksonville, Florida. In 1921, after only eight years in this
trade, the ferry line was replaced by a bridge, and the South Jacksonville was sold north to the Tocony-Palmyra Ferry
Company in Philadelphia. She then plied
the Delaware River as the Mount Holly
until 1927. At that point, she was sold
north again, to the 34th Street Vehicular Ferry Company in New
York. With no change of name this time,
she sailed on the East River between Long Island City and the foot of East 34th
Street in Manhattan. This arrangement
lasted until 1936 when the company failed.
Two years later, however, the Mount
Holly was sold south to the expanding Chesapeake Bay Ferry Company and
renamed the Governor Emerson C.
Harrington II. Under this new
identity and with a newly rebuilt superstructure, she linked the communities of
Claiborne and Romancoke on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. In
the early 1940s the State of Maryland assumed the operation of the ferries from
the private owner, and the Governor
Harrington ran until shortly after the Chesapeake Bay Bridge was opened in
1952.[2]
In 39 years, our Adirondack had served five owners, sailed on four routes, and had
twice been replaced by bridges. In
addition, her original coal-fired steam engine had been replaced by twin
diesels. But she was not finished yet, I
thought, as she glided past Schuyler Island and slowed for her approach to the
dock in Port Kent, New York. Easing up
to the wharf on a northerly heading, she came to rest gently at a small
facility in the lee of a large promontory just to the south and almost adjacent
to the Amtrak line that connects New York City and Montreal. We remained on the upper deck as the
westbound traffic disembarked and eastbound traffic came aboard. This did not take long, and soon the Adirondack got underway again.
The return voyage to Vermont was just as
lovely as the initial crossing to New York had been. Again I contemplated the Adirondack’s long life and marveled that a ship could keep going so
far beyond the usual expected lifespan of thirty to forty years. She had gotten her new lease on life in 1954,
two years after the Chesapeake Bay Bridge had taken away her work. Purchased by the Lake Champlain
Transportation Company, the Governor
Emerson C. Harrington II was brought north from Maryland and renamed the Adirondack. Following the long trek through the Hudson
River and Champlain Canal, the Adirondack
has remained on Lake Champlain for the last sixty years, making the seasonal
crossings between Burlington and Port Kent every spring, summer, and fall.[3] Job security at last!
Few ships, few things in general, and certainly
few people live to be one hundred years old.
But even those who do reach the century mark know they won’t last
forever, at least not in their earthly form.
While we often stand in awe of someone who has lived so long, we also
recognize the 100th birthday as something of a last hurrah. For the end of necessity must come, and
fairly soon. Not even the grand old Adirondack can sail forever! Her time shall come, as will ours. It is inevitable.
In the long history of the world, even a
life lasting one hundred years is a comparatively short time, a small window of
opportunity that should be used wisely.
We are told many times and in many ways throughout the scriptures that
one of the best uses of our time involves showing Christlike care and concern
for others and helping them to feel the Lord’s love for them. This thought calls to mind the famous remark
of the great Quaker missionary Etienne de Grellet:
I
shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or kindness I can
show to any human
being; let me do it now. Let me not
defer or neglect it,
for I shall not
pass this way again.[4]
Good advice to follow, no matter how long
or short our lives. Admittedly, this is
not always easy, especially when it involves disagreeable people. Annoying personalities can challenge the good
intentions of even the most saintly. But
we must strive to overcome such petty differences. Also, most of us will not be able to follow
this counsel for one hundred years. Our
windows of opportunity to serve others will most likely not be as large as the Adirondack’s. But there will be opportunities nonetheless.
Carpe
diem, then, as the
ancient Romans commanded. We must seize
the day, for every day presents an opportunity to do good for and to show
kindness to someone else.
[1] William Shakespeare, Hamlet, III:i:62-63.
[2] Information from Lake
Champlain Transportation Co., posted at www.ferries.com/assets/files/OurFleet.
The
Adirondack’s history with photographs
is located on pages 7 and 8 of a pdf file.
[3]
Ibid. See also Jack Shaum, “Former
Romancoke-Claiborne Ferry still going strong at 100,”
and
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claiborne-Annapolis_Ferry_Company.
[4] Available at
values.com/inspirationalquotes.
