| Issue #33, November 10, 2006 |
Where Was Missy?
Sometimes an Aircraft Carrier Will Just Dig In Its Heels
By Dan Rattiner
Monday morning, November 6 at 10 a.m., some of New York City’s major military and political figures stood on the deck of the Intrepid aircraft carrier docked there on Manhattan’s west side to be a part of one of the city’s important historical events. Present were Senators Chuck Schumer and Hillary Rodham Clinton, former Mayor David Dinkins and former Mayor Edward Koch. Shortly they would be assisting in the removal of a thick yellow rope that tied the Intrepid to the dock. The Intrepid would be going on a little journey, just across the Hudson to New Jersey, where, for two years, she would be given a major overhaul. That’s what you have to do sometimes with big ships.
A Coast Guard band played John Phillip Sousa marches. Helicopters circled overhead. Offshore, preparing to accompany the Intrepid, were blue and white ships from the Police Department, red Fire Department boats, and a Coast Guard Cutter. A tugboat was already in place. The Intrepid’s Vice President of Operations, Matt Woods, introduced the speakers. The Intrepid is nearly a thousand feet long, weighs 27,000 tons, and not only rivals the largest ships in the world, but survived five Kamikaze attacks during World War II, when she was in full operation as a mainstay of the U. S. Navy. In 1981, Zachary Fisher, a billionaire philanthropist, saved the Intrepid from the wrecking ball and had her towed to her present location to become the Intrepid Air and Space Museum. On her decks various Navy jets had been on display. So was one of the Concordes, the big supersonic commercial jet, recently retired from service. All had been moved off in anticipation of the repairs. Intrepid is one of the main attractions of the city today.
In a few moments, as the Intrepid would make her way down the Hudson toward her dry dock in Bayonne, several formal events would occur. At Ground Zero, expected to be at 11 a.m., a 100-foot long American flag would be unfurled from the flight deck in tribute to those that died when the Twin Towers fell. At 1 p.m., she would pass by the Statue of Liberty and would pay tribute to the surviving crew members who served aboard the Intrepid during the Second World War nearly 60 years ago.
And so, finally, at 10:30 a.m., as Mrs. Clinton completed the final speech, saying that “the Intrepid stands for everything we believe in…our freedom and our values,” the yellow ropes and all the other ropes that held the Intrepid fast to the dock were removed, and with a rendition of “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” the powerful 6,140-horsepower tugboat, Christine McAllister, began to rev up her engine. Soon, with a great roar from the assembled crowd, the Intrepid began to move. It moved a foot, then it moved another foot and then it stopped. The rope to the Christine McAllister went taut, and the Captain of that ship, Jeff McAllister, feeling his vessel falter under the strain, ordered full speed ahead. The Christine McAllister roared, black smoke came up out of its smokestack, and the Intrepid moved another foot and then once again stopped.
One hour later, the Intrepid was still, give or take a few feet, almost exactly where she had been. And so, the Christine McAllister was joined by the Robert E. McAllister, the Kaleen McAllister, the Vicki McAllister and the Brooklyn McAllister, with a total of 15,650 horsepower straining to get the Intrepid to budge, which it would not. She was stuck in the mud.
There are several tugboat firms in the Port of New York, McAllister Towing probably the best of them, and at this point, with smoke belching from the five tugs tied to the stern and sides of the great aircraft carrier, Jeff McAllister hailed the captain of another tugboat passing by that he knew and asked him to help out, too, if he had the time. Thus arrived the tug, Morton S. Bouchard IV, adding another 7,000 horsepower to the pull, but still the Intrepid would not budge.
And so, on board the Christine McAllister, Jeff McAllister sighed and said, “That’s a wrap.” It was over.
The Intrepid was now sixteen feet from the dock, and from Jeff McAllister’s 35 years of experience, was going to stay there for now. She was stuck in the mud. The mud had won.
What could be done? Well, that is now under discussion, not only with the Port of New York, but also with the United States Navy and the Pentagon. But certainly nobody could fault the planning that went into this move — although many people did wonder why, after the move, it should take two years to fix up a ship and a dock and keep this floating museum out of service for such a long time. Even if it will cost $36 million.
As for the move, the sun, the moon and the stars were all in alignment. The tide was high, the moon was full. The conditions were ideal. $1.2 million had been spent on dredging around the bottom of the ship — which had sat there for 22 years — and a further quarter of a million for the tow. (McAllister has offered to provide upcoming tows to free the Intrepid at no charge. The quarter of a million was for the JOB, not the number of hours worked.) Now, there could not be another pull at least until December 5 when the tide and moon would again cause an extremely high tide, although not as high as the tide of November 1.
Four years ago, this reporter attended the christening of a new tug bought for the McAllister fleet. The christening party was held in Hampton Bays, at the commercial docks on the sheltered side of the barrier beach where it meets the Shinnecock Inlet. About 400 people attended, a huge crowd, for this was a most unusual event, and enjoyed the music (Scottish bagpipers), the food and drink and the speeches given by many local dignitaries and several members of the McAllister family. It is not widely known, but members of this family are, separately from the McAllister Towing Company, the owners of the Hampton Jitney. (Other members of the family have purchased the Port Jefferson-Bridgeport Cross Sound Ferry Company.)
And so Brent Lynch, who had purchased the Hampton Jitney from its founder Jim Davidson, spoke from the bow of the tug, and he heaped praise on the person for whom the tugboat was being named, his wife Missy Lynch. And then, after the speeches, many of the local dignitaries got on board, including Brent and Missy, and the Missy McAllister chugged slowly out to sea for a seagoing conclusion to this wonderful day in Hampton Bays to introduce a shiny new tugboat.
The McAllister Tugboat Company consists of a fleet of 70 tugboats and twelve barges. The Missy McAllister was not one of the ones chosen for the big pull effort for the Intrepid, because at 2,000 horsepower, she is not one of the fleet’s bigger ships, but I cannot help wondering if, after the Morton S. Bouchard IV had come over, and there were six tugs, roaring and raging, spewing smoke and fire and bringing almost 23,000 horsepower to bear on the Intrepid, if they had just brought over the Missy McAllister with its little 2,000 horsepower engine, it just might have tipped the balance and to the roar of the crowd, freed up the aircraft carrier so it could go on its way.
And so, the Intrepid would have sailed down the Hudson, saluted the crowd at Ground Zero and the retired crew members at the Statue of Liberty, and would have circled around and come into shore to be tied fast to the dry dock in Bayonne with the welders, rivet hammerers and painters working furiously away, and all would be right with the world.
And out here in Quogue, at the home of the woman for whom the ship is named, people would raise their champagne glasses in salute to the little tug that could.
Instead, you’ve got this big thing stuck in the mud awaiting Plan B. Which at the moment, nobody knows what that is.
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