One of the pleasures of writing for Boating on the Hudson is the chance to meet interesting people associated with life on the Hudson. This perk often gives me the chance to learn about river history through the eyes of someone who actually lived and worked on the river during an era that is long gone.

This story is about one such man and his childhood years working and living on the river. Joe Sickler was born April 6, 1923 in Hudson, NY, where he lived with his grandparents until the tender age of seven. At this young age, he joined his parents aboard the cement barge "Nana" owned by the Wright and Cobb Literage Co. This is where Joe, his sister Eva and his parents worked and lived transporting cement bags up and down the river to NYC. The barge usually made runs from Hudson, to NYC that took about two days depending on the tides.

Joe's days were spent helping his Dad paint and clean the barge and the freight house. Making sure any excess cement was cleaned from the floor and sides. If Joe was lucky and the barge had the outside berth on the tow, he would fish off the sides. It was always the luck of the draw on how the large tow was configured. They were not alone on their journey. Their barge was a part of a larger group of barges that were tied together to carry other goods like coal, bricks, lumber and ice. These huge tows consisted of as many as one hundred barges towed by powerful tugs from the Cornell Towing Co. There are no such convoys of barges like these on the river today. I asked Joe, as a child were you ever tempted to cross over to the other barges during the tows to visit other kids living on the barges? He said, " the space between the barges was about three feet and would be too dangerous to cross."

His Dad always stayed with the barge. His Mom worked in the garment district as a dressmaker during their stays in NY Harbor. When the barge moved back up the river, she would be given "piece work" to have finished when they returned. Mom had an old pedal sewing machine aboard the barge that she used to finish her work.

The family worked hard during these years, survived tough times, and is a prime example of what Tom Brokaw calls the "Greatest Generation". Living conditions aboard the barge consisted of quarters atop the barge in a cabin that measured 12 ft by 24 ft, which included a kitchen, a bedroom, a long hall and the machine room for the boom crane. In today's standards, this would compare to a small studio apartment. Water for cooking and washing needed to be brought on board in buckets and there weren't any toilet facilities. Life aboard the barge was not luxurious but during the depression years, they had work and were comfortable with the day's standards. Joe earned 50 cents a day working as a hook grabber for the crane his Dad operated when unloading the cement bags.

One of the most interesting times Joe talked about during these years was his winter lay-up months when the river was frozen solid. When this happened, they stayed in NY Harbor. His barge was docked at Pier 9 in Jersey City and was often used in the harbor for local transport. During these years, Joe attended school at PS 29 on Pearl Street in Manhattan. It was established specifically for the canal and barge kids that traveled with their parents. Each day Joe and his sister would take the Jersey Central RR ferry to Manhattan to attend classes in a two-room schoolhouse across from Fraunces Tavern.

Even the trip to get to the ferry was filled with danger and adventure because they had to cross many railroad tracks to get to their ride. Joe has fond and vivid memories from those school days. One was of a NYC Police Officer named Joe, who befriended him and his sister by giving them apples everyday when they came off the ferry. Other kind acts came from a secretary for one of the big shipping offices who occasionally took Joe to lunch at Fraunces Tavern. It seems Joe and his sister had a few guardian angels looking over them for all they had to endure.

Joe also remembers one of his teachers, Mrs. Steelman and the Christmas parties she arranged entertaining the kids with old Mickey Mouse movies shown on a hand-cranked projector.  At the end of a school day another daily adventure would take place. Joe would telephone the tow dispatcher to find out if the barge was being used that day. Often he would find that the barge was en route to West Farms or Newtown Creek. Then he and his sister would take the train to meet up with the barge, often waiting until the early morning hours for its arrival. There were not any school buses or after school programs in those days and kids needed to grow up fast. Joe never complained, just did what he needed to do to help his folks. When the ice left the river, and the barge left New York Harbor, the teacher would give them assignments to be completed before they returned to NYC.

The simple things meant a lot to Joe as kid, like his boyhood explorations along the Jersey City shore. Since there weren't many families wintering at the Jersey City pier, he often had to make do with his own creative play. His "Huck Finn" antics would have him exploring the shoreline and walking the railroad tracks.

When Joe turned 13, his family moved to Greenpoint, Brooklyn where life on the barge ended but not his life on the river. The river was in his blood now. He worked his teen years as a deck hand on the tug "Top Sergeant" towing barges from NYC to Troy. Later he worked on smaller tugs that towed the length of the Erie Canal. Joe says the work was long and hard, especially when taking the large tows through the locks. These tows were brought through the locks in sections, making for a slow process. His career as a riverman came to a halt with the outbreak of WW2. His boating skills were put to good use in the Army Amphibious Engineers as a LCM (landing craft) pilot. Joe proudly served in the Pacific Arena.

Joe hasn't seen the harbor in over 35 years. He now lives in South Carolina with his wife Bobbie enjoying a comfortable and quiet life in the country. His harbor and the days of the working piers in NYC are long gone, yet never forgotten. I thank him and his wife for sharing his trip into the past.

"At anchor at last - Joe & Bobbie Sickler"