Abyss
If not for Sandy, Shaun would have thought that the Red Hook Grain Terminal was the most abandoned place in New York City. The huge, empty facility was built in the 1920s and sat adjacent to the mouth of the Gowanus Canal. It was an investment failure immediately redundant upon its completion, now stood contaminated by black mold resembling a forbidden castle overlooking the rest of the neighborhood.
That afternoon, Shaun closed his woodshop studio at 4pm, went for a jog along the bay as usual, starting from the end of Bay Street, crossed the ball fields, turned down Beard Street to Red Hook Dock, and stopped at Pier 44 Waterfront Garden.
Figure 1. The Red Hook Grain Terminal stood there like a monster, Ruixuan Li, 2019.
Every time he passed the ball fields, Shaun couldn’t help but stop to look at the Grain Terminal, which stood there like a monster that he couldn’t turn away from. His aquaphobia started there. When he was 8, he and his friends went into the structure looking for adventure. Walking among the symmetrically laid out white tall columns, the kids got excited by its monumental awe. He was the only one who climbed to the top floor. Looking down from the aperture on the floor, he saw the empty silos, the tiny light dot in the far end, and the infinite darkness in-between.
Figure 2-3. The inside of the Red Hook Grain Terminal. Reference [1].
An indescribable pressure had overcome him, and a deafening silence filled his head. Shaun saw himself looking out from inside the body of a serpent. Standing back up, his legs would not stop trembling and a heaviness in his chest made it hard for him to breathe. On the verge of panic, Shaun worked his way back down to his friends. When he got back, he lost control of his body and fell from the stairs into the water below. He flailed and choked and almost blacked out, but the others jumped into the water and pulled him out in time. Ever since, Shaun has been afraid of seawater, and the sight of the old grain terminal filled him with deep dread every time he passed it. Even so, Shaun would never move away from this place he called his home.
Figure 4-5. The inside of the Red Hook Grain Terminal. Reference [1].
It was late fall and the sprinkle of rain felt cold on Shaun’s skin. An unusual golden circle appeared above the dark clouds. Continuing along, Shaun passed the two big retailers AKAO and Goodeal Market, and reached the waterfront garden covered in chilly, fine drops. Daven, Shaun’s old friend and owner of the Museum Afloat beside the park, opened the doors in the ship’s bulkhead, waiting for Shaun so they could cook their dinner together.
Figure 6. The Waterfront Museum (the prototype place of the Museum Afloat in the story) in Red Hook, Ruixuan Li, 2019.
Figure 7. A photo of the barge, Courtsey of David Sharps.
“The weather’s so strange today,” said Daven. “The waves are hitting the rocks too strongly. I’m worried something bad is going to happen.”
Shaun chuckled. “Don’t be scared by the small ripples,” he said. “I’m here to protect you.” Shaun pulled out a bucket of oysters from Daven’s fridge. He had been waiting for this meal the whole week. Daven shut the doors and leaned back into the sofa. In the middle of the room, the fire was roaring and crackling, spreading its warmth through the large room.
Figure 8-9. The inside of the barge, Ruixuan Li, 2019.
About an hour later, Shaun glanced out the window and was shocked to see the jetty outside was submerged in water and they were already about 10 feet higher than before. Daven sprung up and rushed to check the condition of every corner of the boat. That is what he has been nervous about all day. The waves crashed all around the boat, rolling and rising like an irritated beast trying to shatter the water.
Daven found a leak, but using a pump, the two friends worked diligently to clear the water from the deck. They left the pump to clear the puddling water, and the men laid back on the deck rugs with no energy left to say anything. They dared not imagine what the situation was for those on land.
Shaun and Daven remained trapped on the boat for two days. Those two days were torture for Shaun, especially the nights when he repeatedly dreamed about the vacuum of the silos in the grain terminal. The abyss of the blackhole stared at him and every night he succumbed to the familiar, dead silence.
Audio 1. David Sharps (The prototype of Daven in the story), the president of Waterfront Museum, talking about his Hurricane Sandy stories.
After two days, the water started to recede. Daven packed up his pump and told Shaun he was going to use the pump to help those affected by the hurricane.
“I’m coming with you,” Shaun said, but his voice trembled. “I wanna help them. They need the help.”
Daven and Shaun carried the pump down to Briley’s Bar first. On the walls of Red Hook’s historic bar were many precious antique photos, priceless mementos of the neighborhood. Looking inside the flooded house, Shaun could tell that the water was starting to go down. As he started the pump’s engine, that old fear, of the taste of seawater in his mouth, of the snake-like silo, of the dark depths, started to breakdown and collapse. He began to feel a mixing of relaxation, peace, and even ecstasy fill his heart and chest. Suddenly, he switched positions with the python and bit the snake’s tail back.
Figure 10. Sunny's Bar (The prototype of the Briley's Bar in the story). Reference [2].
When they had Briley’s basement drained of water, Shaun picked up the pump and told Daven he wanted to help as many neighbors as they could. The two men went door-to-door and offered their services to those along Coffey Street and Dikeman Street. Daven’s pump clattered over the cobblestones and drained the waters from almost every home of all the nearby families. A 26-year veteran of the neighborhood with a salty gray mustache told them, “none of us left before the storm, because they evacuated for Hurricane Irene but nothing happened.”
Two months after Sandy, Shaun used the discount offered by AKAO and purchased a selection of tools, cleaning products, and moving boxes to clean-up his woodshop. Many of his friends suggested that he move his woodwares away from the water because the next storm could come at any time. But Shaun decided to stay and continue his self-healing. His shop’s door faced the blue seas, and the deep image of the void that haunted his mind grew fainter by every day that passed.
Figure 11. Facing the blue seas at Erie Basin Park, Ruixuan Li, 2019.