Even the gulls floating down the Hudson on chunks of ice seemed perplexed. In New York's great harbor, the hoarse voice of the tugboat was stilled by a tug-crew strike. Great ocean liners wallowed like harpooned whales. Without the usual fuming tugs to nudge them into their berths, the liners had to trust to luck and the seamanship of their skippers to make port. Some made distinctly unhappy landings, others got in safely but tensely, and only a skilled and daring few did the job as though it were nothing at all.
Early in the week there were two near-disasters...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In