Site optimized for broadband and 1024 x 768 resolution
The Hudson River:
A Natural History Tour
Phillipse Manor Hall, in Yonkers, built by Frederick Phillipse in the 1690s, represents the wealth of colonial merchant families who profited handsomely from trade in textiles, furs, timber, and their most profitable commodity – slaves. Frederick built his house on an estate that once belonged to Adriaen Van der Donck, a Dutch lawyer who settled in New Netherland. Van der Donck had built a sawmill on the Nepperhan River that ran through here to the Hudson – known also as the Sawmill River, now flowing beneath concrete in Yonkers.
credit: B. McCully
(click to enlarge).
Dennings Point brick works is now being renovated to become the site of The Beacon Institute – signaling a shift in the way we see the river.
(click to enlarge)
The D&H Canal is part of the NYS Greenway system that converts abandoned canals, railroad tracks, and roadways into trailways. The canal has been reclaimed by nature.
Lower Hudson (NYC) geologic map
Source: USGS
(click to enlarge)
Source: USGS
(click to enlarge)
Verrazzano Bridge 2008
(click to enlarge)
Lake Tear of the Clouds,  Seneca Ray Stoddard,
late nineteenth century
Library of Congress (click to enlarge)
Hudson Fiord (looking from Anthony's Nose)
Source: USGS
(click to enlarge)
Nineteenth-century charcoal furnace
Source: USGS archives
Indian Point Nuclear Reactor
credit: Daniel Case, 2007
D&H Canal returned to nature (click to enlarge)
View of Hudson from Dennings Point
credit: B. McCully (click to enlarge)
Kingston sign with map, 2008
(click to enlarge)
Rondout Creek, Kingston, 2008.
credit: B. McCully (click to enlarge)
Olana, 2008
creit: B. McCully
Detail of Olana, 2008
Credit: B. McCully
NY Harbor 8,000 years ago
Source: USGS
(click to enlarge)
Fort Tryon overlook: the Palisades can be seen across the Hudson, a view spanning 200 million years of geological time.
credit: B. McCully (click to enlarge)
"Henry Hudson"
Source:
Cyclopaedia of Universal History, 1885
Note: This has long passed as a likeness of Hudson, but no portrait of the explorer is known to exist.
View of Hudson from Bear Mountain Bridge, Credit: Rolf Muller, 2005
Good Links on the Hudson:

www.hudsonriverheritage.org
www.ScenicHudson.org
www.hudsonrivervalley.org
www.exploreny400.com
www.hudsonriver.org
www.riverkeeper.org
www.clearwater.org
www.nypl.org/research/hudson

Good Books on the Hudson:

Boyle, Robert.
The Hudson River: A Natural and Unnatural History Expanded Ed. (Norton, 1979)
Lewis, Tom. The Hudson: A History (Yale University Press, 2005)
Palisades overlooking the Hudson (view from Fort Tryon)
credit: B. McCully
Source: USGS
(click to enlarge)
Poets like William Cullen Bryant sang the Hudson’s praises:

Oh river! Darkling river! What a voice
Is that thou utterest while all else is still!...

The swelling river, into his green gulfs,
Unshadowed save by passing sails above,
Takes the redundant glory, and enjoys
That summer in his chilly bed.
Dennings Point Greenway sign
Dennings Point, now part of the state park system, harbors a preserve for nesting bald eagles
The Mariner’s Perspective

Mariners like
Henry Hudson became obsessed with finding a passage to the Orient by a northeast or northwest route across the top of the globe. He believed this would offer a shorter passage than the one around the Cape of Good Hope – a route that was in any case monopolized by the Portuguese. Twice he tried sailing northeast but was stopped by ice. His friend John Smith told him of a possible passage somewhere north of the Virginia Colony, a tantalizing bit of news that fired Hudson’s dreams of being the first to find it. But his English sponsors prevailed upon him to seek a northeast passage. On his third trip, sponsored by the Dutch East India Company, who also admonished him to seek a northeast passage, after dutifully setting a northeasterly course, he turned his ship around and sailed toward North America. The dream of a northwest passage drove him on.
New Netherland Society replica of the Half Moon. It was 85 feet long – cramped quarters for 18 men, who were by all accounts an ornery lot who did not share Hudson’s dream.
     Hudson hugged the east coast from Nova Scotia to Cape Hatteras, turned northward again, nosing into Delaware Bay until he judged the bay too full of shoals, then continued north along a relatively uncharted coast. He entered Lower New York Bay on Sept. 2, 1609, and anchored in the deep waters of the Narrows – just as Verrazzano had done in 1524. But unlike Verrazzano, who had been forced by a storm to exit the bay, Hudson sailed up the river that would bear his name.
     The
Lenapes who inhabited the Lower Hudson region greeted Hudson with courtesy and hospitality as a rule. More hostile encounters took place as Hudson’s crews explored the region’s waters, mainly instigated by the sailors, who distrusted the Indians’ intentions and would kill at the slightest provocation. Most Indians merely desired the trade goods the bearded men brought – trading green tobacco, oysters, dried beans, and furs,  for knives, hatchets, and cloth.
     North of the Tappan Zee, the Hudson became narrower and more difficult to navigate. At times the Half Moon foundered on shoals and the crew had to wait for high tide to lift their boat again. Hudson managed to sail as far as Albany, where he dispatched a crew in a small boat to explore the upper reaches. It became painfully clear that this river was not his passage to the Orient. He turned around in bitter disappointment.





Manhattan waterfront today
credit: B. McCully
Downtown Albany today
credit: B. McCully
A geological perspective

From its source at
Lake Tear of the Clouds in the Adirondacks to its mouth – if you consider the mouth to be the Verrazano Narrows – the Hudson flows for 315 miles. This is the visible river. But geologists know that the river’s ancient channel, now drowned by the sea, cuts through the continental shelf to its edge, where the river plunges 15,000 feet into a canyon – one it carved over eons of time – sluicing sediments into the Baltimore Canyon Trough, fanning out as far east as the Abyssal Plain, ending its journey 895 miles from its source. It courses through six geographic regions, each of which testifies to dynamic events in earth’s history.
     The oldest geographic region is the
Hudson Highlands, dating back to the Grenville Orogeny 1.2 billion years ago. The highlands are comprised of granite gneisses – granite that was subjected to intense heating and deformation when the young North American continent collided with Gondwana, pushing up a mountain range that stretched from Labrador to Mexico. The Hudson fiord cuts through an ancient rift valley in the Hudson Highlands between Peekskill and Cornwall-on-Hudson. The fiord is the narrowest section of the Hudson, carved through resistant rocks.
     The next mountain-building episode occurred some 450 million years ago, known as the
Taconic orogeny, when a volcanic island arc collided with eastern North America. The oceanic plate slid beneath the continental plate in a process known as subduction. Limestone metamorphosed – melted and recrystallized – into marble, and shale into schist. During the same event, layers of gneiss were overthrust onto the schist and marble strata. All three strata, complexly folded, underlie the Lower Hudson and shape its course.
     The
Triassic Lowlands were formed between 200 and 250 million years ago, when eastern North America was joined to western Africa, comprising parts of the super-continent Pangaea. Sand and silt eroded from mountains were deposited in alluvial fans and lake beds; over eons, the layers of sand and silt hardened into redbeds. When Pangaea split apart several rift valleys formed – the Connecticut and Newark Basins. The Hudson flowed through the Newark Basin, eroding the soft sandstone. The broadest section of the Hudson is the Tappan Zee, where the river flows through soft shales and sandstones.
     During the rifting of Pangaea, lava erupted through cracks in the earth’s crust, flowing as sills between layers of sandstone, hardening into dolerite. Eons later, the sandstone and dolerite layers would be tilted up, and the sandstone envelope eroded away, exposing the diabase cliffs we know today as the
Palisades.The maroon color is a result of weathering. The sills form a thousand-foot-thick layer from Staten Island to Haverstraw. Their highest point above ground is High Tor, where the cliffs tower 827 feet above the Hudson near Haverstraw. You can view the Palisades from Fort Tryon, in northern Manhattan. Here, you stand on schist formed almost half a billion years ago; there, you see rock formed a quarter million years ago. From Wave Hill in the Bronx, where you would be standing on billion-year-old gneiss, your view would span 800 million years of geological time.
      The geologist sees the earth as dynamic, forever rearranging itself. Since its origin, the Hudson changed course several times, redirected or diverted by successive geological events.
     A mere five million years ago, the Adirondacks bulged up, or domed, and the coastal plain tilted southward. The Hudson veered from its ancient channel through the Triassic Lowlands to flow through
Sparkill Gap, a break in the Palisades ridge, now a marshy creek.
     The
Ice Age began around 2 million years ago, and was characterized by global cooling punctuated by intervals of global warming (ice house and hothouse modes). As glaciers advanced and retreated, they shaped the course of the Hudson. As far as we know, glaciers reached the New York City region at least three times, the last two during the latest glaciations, the Wisconsin, which lasted over 100 million years. The Wisconsin ice sheet flowed southward from Canada down the Hudson and Connecticut river valleys. Where it flowed through the Hudson fiord, it carved a deep trough that extends more than 1000 feet below water level. Blocked by ice, the Hudson changed course, draining the Connecticut, Passaic, Hackensack and Raritan rivers as it flowed across Newark Basin and through what is now Raritan Bay. The huge river system carved a canyon through the glacial outwash plain and thundered over the edge of the exposed continental shelf.
     As the last glacier retreated from the New York City region around 18,000 years ago, lakes formed between the terminal moraines and the ice front. The Hudson was for awhile impounded behind the terminal moraine. Sometime between 13,000 and 12,000 years ago, in what must have been a catastrophic flood, the moraine was breached by rising waters at the
Verrazano Narrows, and the waters of Lake Hudson were released in a torrent that scoured the channel 200 feet down to bedrock, making the Narrows the deepest section of the Lower Hudson. The Hudson river assumed its present-day course through the Narrows, coursing across a still-exposed continental shelf. At the edge of the shelf the Hudson carved a deep canyon plunging 9000 feet down to the ocean bottom. This is known as the Hudson Canyon. As sea level rose, the ocean drowned the Hudson’s mouth. By 6,000 years ago, sea level stabilized. The commingling of fresh and salt waters in the Lower Hudson created an estuary, or tidal river. Ocean tides push up the Hudson as far as Troy. The Lenapes, who settled the region around that time, called the Hudson Mahicanituck, of “the great waters or sea, either ebbing or flowing.”
The Hudson can seen from many perspectives: geological, ecological, colonial, industrial, environmental, and aesthetic. I’ve spent the last year absorbing these multiple perspectives, and traveling up and down the river’s shores to experience the terrain first-hand. What follows is a kind of kaleidoscopic portrait of this natural and national treasure.
The Colonial Merchant's Perspective

In the eyes of Dutch merchant-mariners, the Hudson was a route to riches.
     Merchant-mariner
Adriaen Block was among many who were enticed by the report of furs noted in the Half Moon’s logs. He sailed to New York, wintering with his crew on Manhattan Island after his ship  Tyger burned. The Mannahattas provided them with food “and other necessities." Block staked claim for the Dutch by mapping the region from the Delaware to the Connecticut rivers, and naming it New Netherland. The Hudson was the heart of that region – the  key to the fur trade. While his map is not the first map to depict the Hudson River, it’s the first map to depict Manhattan as an island.
     The capacious mouth of the Hudson offered a deep natural harbor for European ships and a port of call. The toe of Manhattan provided a logical site for a fort and trading post. By establishing forts at Manhattan and at Albany, the Dutch secured the river from the English and French. By the mid-1620s, Fort Amsterdam guarded the gateway to the North, or Hudson, River – the corridor of furs.
     The Hudson was one strand in a vast trading network, and
New Amsterdam merely one far-flung trading post of the Dutch West India Company. Furs and timber were the primary commodities. Beaver pelts were in especially high demand – not only for fur coats but for felt hats that were the rage in Europe. The first cargo shipped from New Amsterdam to Holland included 7,246 beaver pelts.  Within decades, beaver would be decimated, and Indian traders forced to go further north and deeper into the country’s interior to kill beaver and meet European demand. Timber was also a valuable commodity, old growth oak and pine in particular demand for shipbuilding – and these were cut with abandon under the convenient illusion that American forests were infinite – unlike the deforested lands of Europe.
     By 1664, at the time of the English takeover, New Amsterdam had been built up into a substantial port town. Settlement was becoming the rule rather than the exception, as colonists – farmers, artisans, and traders – crowded Lower Manhattan. Many farmers grew crops as commodities for trade: wheat and tobacco were grown on monocultural plantations worked by slaves.
Hudson's ship Half Moon, on his 1609 voyage up the Hudson.
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (1905)
(click to enlarge)
Yonkers trompe l'oeil mural depicting Hudson's "discovery" and the Dutch traders who followed.
Credit: B. McCully (click to enlarge).
Yonkers mural commemorating the original inhabitants before European contact
credit: B. McCully  (click to enlarge).
An Industrial Perspective

The Hudson and its tributaries did double duty in the service of trade: as a commercial waterway and as a source of water power.
    
The Erie Canal was completed in 1825, connecting New York City to the country’s interior. The Hudson was transformed into a primary commercial waterway, and New York harbor into a leading world port. Barges filled with wheat and lumber from the midwest traveled downriver to New York Port; on the return trip, they transported thousands of people – mostly immigrants – to the western frontier. Cheaper grain from the west put Hudson Valley wheat farmers out of business. But the canal spawned other canals such as the Delaware and Hudson, completed in 1828, which connected the Pennsylvania coal country to New York factories. Mules were used to haul the barges: hence the towpaths. But animal power would in some places be replaced by steam. The Erie Canal was deepened to accommodate larger steam-powered barges.
     We may associate industrialization with the Industrial Revolution, but industries such as glass and pottery works, iron foundries, and tanneries had been in place for centuries in Europe, and were soon established in the Hudson River Valley by the eighteenth century. The radical changes wrought by the industrial revolution were the transition to centralized, mass production on a scale unknown before, and the shift from a predominantly agricultural to an industrial economic base. Steam was the engine of that revolution.
    
Robert Fulton was not the only inventor who worked on designs for steamboats, but his steamer was the first launched on the Hudson River, and would become the prototype for steamboats and ferries that plied the Hudson. Fulton’s steamboat was launched on the Hudson to great fanfare in 1807. It marked a new era of steam travel, as steamboats edged out wind-powered sloops as passenger boats. Steam ferries, and later steam trains, also enabled commuters to live farther out from the city in garden suburbs such as Westchester. It was the beginning of suburban sprawl.
     The now-defunct
D&H Canal connected Pennsylvania coal country with Kingston on the Hudson. Coal not only fed industrial steam engines but also provided fuel for home cooking and heating. Rondout Landing was one of only three deepwater ports along the Hudson, where ships had docked since colonial times. With the completion of the D&H Canal, canal boats unloaded Pennsylvania coal onto the docks, and the twin villages of Rondout and Kingston were transformed into an industrial town filled with Irish and Germans who worked the docks or on the canal, or labored in brick and cement works. By the 1870s, 3 million tons of coal were offloaded annually. When the railroad eclipsed the canal, the D&H shut operations in 1898 – spelling the decline of Kingston.
     The banks of the Hudson were rich in deposits of high-grade clay. By the mid-1800s, brickmaking was a thriving Hudson Valley industry. Haverstraw was particularly renowned for its blue clay, providing one third of New York City’s bricks. Brickworks such as the operations at Croton and at
Dennings Point in Fishkill flourished during the 19th century until the clay was dug out. The rich clay deposits were relics of the ice age, when glacial meltwater flushed sediments into the Hudson, creating a delta at Croton Point.
     The Hudson Valley was also the source of valuable building stone. Marble excavated by prisoners at Sing Sing provided stone for New York University, Grace Church, and Albany’s City Hall; Peekskill Granite provided the foundation for the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in NYC; another building stone, red sandstone, was quarried from Hook Mountain, south of Haverstraw (though most brownstones built in the late 19th century got their stone from another “redbed” source at Portland, Ct., on the Connecticut River); a limestone deposit southwest of Kingston provided cement used in the foundations of the Brooklyn Bridge and Statue of Liberty.
     Besides the Albany and Rensselaer Iron Works, seven iron foundries operated just north of Albany in Troy by the mid-1800s. Predating these foundries was the West Point Foundry that mined the rich iron ore near Cold Spring. Iron foundries consumed enormous quantities of wood. One ton of iron required 120 bushels of charcoal. A cord of wood was measured as a stack of logs 4x4x8 feet high, and produced around 50 bushels of charcoal.
New York State Erie Canal map 1825
(click to enlarge)
Robert Fulton
Evert Duyckinck,
A Portrait Gallery of Eminent Men and Women in Europe and America, 1873 (click to enlarge)
Kingston Strand (Rondout), 2008
coal barges at Rondout Creek
source: Minisink Valley Historical Society
(click to enlarge)
Erie Canal at Waterford, 2008
credit: B. McCully

An Environmental History Perspective


Colonial agriculture and logging had already taken a considerable toll on the Hudson River Valley by land-clearing and deforestation. The industrial revolution ratcheted up the pace and scale of resource consumption.
     Since colonial times, white pine forests had been cut to furnish a huge shipbuilding industry. Since Revolutionary times, pine was cut for charcoal, which was burned in iron foundries such as that at West Point. Hudson Valley woodlands were stripped for firewood that was burned to produce the steam that powered factories and steamboats. Hemlocks were stripped of bark to supply tanneries. Although tanning had been done since colonial times, tanneries increased their operations to serve growing demand for leather, with the result that whole hemlock forests in the Catskills were destroyed. The Pratt tannery, at Schohariekill, consumed 6000 cords of bark a year: 15 cords required the stripping of 75 trees.
     Great rafts of cut logs were ferried downriver to loading docks, such as the one at Albany built specifically to hold logs. Robert Boyle, in his classic The Hudson: A Natural and Unnatural History, noted that as early as 1825, Hudson River steamboats and New York Harbor steam ferries consumed 100,000 cords of wood per year. Logs were cut from the top of the Palisades and slid down to the river at what came to be called High Gutter Point.
     Coal replaced wood as the favored fuel, once access to the mines of Pennsylvania was secured via the D&H Canal. Besides the local impact of coal mining, coal burning (we know today) contributes to acid rain, smog, and global warming.
     With the discovery of oil in the mid-19th century, oil refineries and petrochemical industries used the Hudson and other waterways as convenient sewers for flushing toxic wastes. Acid sludge – a byproduct of oil refining – settles into riverbed sediments. The flagrant pollution of the Hudson presaged the poisoning of the waters through the 20th century, as more lethal chemicals were manufactured: pesticides like DDT, and PCBs, used in the manufacturing of silicone. GE was one of the worst polluters in discharging tons of PCBs into the Hudson from its plant at Fort Edward on the upper Hudson. GE had received the blessing of the federal government in 1930 to discharge the PCBs, which remain in the river sediments. In 1980, Congress passed the Superfund Act, which required industrial polluters to clean up their act, including GE. But GE has dragged its feet, tying up cases in the courts to avoid compliance with the EPA order to clean up the Hudson.
     Although coal and oil continue to provide most of the northeast’s energy, nuclear reactors now generate additional electricity for a growing population. In the 1960s,
Con Ed built a nuclear reactor at Indian Point, just twenty-four miles north of New York, on the Hudson’s east bank. The plant kills millions of fish by sucking them into their turbines and literally cooking them in heated discharge water. Riverkeeper has kept up a constant legal battle with Con Ed over the fishkills, and recently won a ruling to shut down the plant’s cooling operations during fish spawning season.
     Con Ed’s plan to transform
Storm King Mountain into an electrical generating plant – pumping 8 billion gallons of Hudson River water a day through a pipe to a reservoir at the top of the 1350-foot mountain, then releasing the water downhill to power electrical generators - galvanized the nascent environmental movement in 1963. The Scenic Hudson Preservation coalition was born. They launched a media campaign exposing Con Ed’s fish kills at the Indian Point Plant, and raising public awareness about Storm King’s aesthetic and ecological values – the latter as an important spawning ground for striped bass. As a result, they rallied the public to save Storm King. They also sued Con Ed in the federal circuit court of appeals to reverse the Federal Power Commission’s approval of the Storm King project – and won. Con Ed, of course, challenged the ruling, but by 1980, after numerous court battles, Con Ed dropped its Storm King project and even donated its Storm King property as a state park. The significance of Scenic Hudson’s legal victories cannot be overstated: for the first time the federal courts were recognizing the aesthetic and ecological values of the Hudson River.
View of Hudson from Olana, 2008
credit: B. McCully
An Aesthetic Perspective

The Hudson River School painters of the nineteenth century were the earliest artists to draw attention to the Hudson’s scenic – even spiritual – value.
     In reaction to the industrial revolution, which was viewed as blighting the landscape with its smokestacks, nineteenth-century American Romantics sought to bring us back to wild nature. American painters of the Hudson River School viewed the Hudson as a place of beauty and sublimity – an end in itself, a passage and a stopping point at once. They sought to convey in their canvases their experience of pure nature – a nature untrammeled by man, unsullied by commerce.
     Thomas Cole, considered to be the founding father of the Hudson River School, urged artists to paint nature as they encountered it – not just what they saw with the eye, but what they experienced. The “Clove” was a favorite spot of wild nature for Cole. In the Hudson Valley, he encountered the Sublime – an experience of nature that transported him, paradoxically, “far from the earth.” “The woods are dark,” he wrote in a poem, “but yet the lingering light/Spreads o’er the sunset sky.” Light was to Cole the illumination of God in nature. How light played over the surface of the Hudson is the subject of another poem:

I saw
The idle River slowly roll along,
And on its gentle glassy surface dwelt
Reflected objects beautifully soft
e’en the little stars that spring like flowers,…
Did twinkle there as bright as in the sky.


     Cole inspired many an artist after his death: Frederick Church, Asher Durand, Jasper Cropsey and others. These painters transformed the popular view of the Hudson. Now, it became a tourist destination – and many a traveller took a steamboat up the Hudson to see it. It’s doubtful that picture postcard scenes of the Hudson could match the painters’ visions, which married nature and the imagination.
     Unable to paint anymore because of arthritis, Frederick Church built a work of art – Olana – a castle on the Hudson inspired by Moorish and Italian designs. With panoramic views of the Hudson and Catskills, Olana provided a kind of architectural frame through which to view the Hudson.

An Ecological Perspective

The nineteenth-century painters and poets who memorialized the Hudson River deepened public appreciation for the river’s aesthetic values. There was a nascent conservation movement as well – inspired by the river and the magnificent landscape through which it courses. One of those early conservationists was
Verplanck Colvin. In 1872, reaching the source of Hudson as he descended Mount Marcy, he described what he experienced: “Far above the chilly waters of Lake Avalanche, at an elevation of 4,293 feet, is Summit Water, a minute, unpretending tear of the clouds, as it were – a lovely pool shivering in the breeze of the mountains….” Lake Tear of the Clouds it became. An ardent conservationist, Colvin sought and won backing (and $1000) from the NYS Assembly to complete a survey of the Adirondacks, which was largely unexplored or charted. He surveyed 8 million acres. It was he who discovered the Hudson’s headwaters. As a result of his surveys and annual reports to the State Assembly, and his urgent pleas for preservation, the 2.8 million-acre Adirondack Park was created in 1892, and in 1894, the state ratified an article in their constitution that declared the Adirondack Park “Forever wild.”
   Deeply distressed by the quarrying of his beloved palisades,
Theodore Roosevelt, as governor of New York, in concert with Foster M. Voorhees, governor of New Jersey, established the Palisades Interstate Park in 1900. Under Commissioner George Perkins Marsh and assistant engineer William A. Welch, a massive reforestation project was carried out.The park grew from an initial 10,000 acres to 40,000, enventually encompassing Bear Mountain State Park and  Harriman State Park. In 1983, the U.S. Department of the Interior designated Palisades Interstate Park a National Natural Landmark and National Historical Landmark, preserving this magnificent section of the Lower and Mid-Hudson forever.
     An early advocate for the river was
Pete Seeger, who had a vision of launching a boat on the Hudson to serve as a reminder of wind-powered vessels on the river, and to educate people about the river. The Clearwater was launched on the Hudson in 1969. He has accomplished perhaps more than any one person the restoration of the Hudson.
     Today, the Hudson River Valley has been declared a National Heritage Area. This marks a sea change in the way people see – and value – this great river. It not only has historical, cultural, and scenic values, but it has intrinsic value as an ecosystem, the richest in the Northeast.

The author's perspective:

The concept of a preserve exemplifies a different way of seeing not only the Hudson, but nature and our relation to nature. We respect species other than our own. At the same time, even as we allow nature to reclaim old industrial sites, we honor those who labored on these sites. The concept of preservation includes human works within the works of nature. And the principle of restoration recognizes that without those works of nature – the Hudson River and its estuary and harbor – human habitations like New York City would not exist.
plaque at Phillipse Manor Hall
credit: B. McCully
New Netherland Society Replica of Half Moon, 2009
Clermont. Source: Project Gutenberg digital ID 15161
(click to enlarge)
Delaware and Hudson Canal Island Dock, Kingston, 1899. Source: National Park Service
View of Hudson from Croton Point
credit: B. McCully
Oil tanker "High Energy" and depot, Arthur's Kill. Credit: B. McCully, 2008
Shad in Hudson. Source: U.S. EPA
Hudson River Maritime Museum brick collection.
Credit: B. McCully
Credit: Angelo Bucolo, 2008
credit: B. McCully
Source: NOAA
View of Hudson from Boscobel
credit: Bob Pliskin, 2008
Credit: NASA Visible Earth
http://visibleearth.nasa.gov