Looking into the engine works from the concrete addition.
Reflections of graffiti during spring melt.
The incinerator’s hardened steel door… useless, but still sexy in a heavy-industrial kind of way.
The control room floats above the top of the dock atop a spiral staircase.
The stonework was done by a local handyman of sorts, who was also a guard at a nearby insane asylum. He did a great job, it seems to me.
These corner pilings served as bumpers… a little assurance against wind, ice, and new captains.
Cracked gauges have a certain quality that hearkens to movies, I think. One can imagine the gauges going off the scales before dramatically cracking, throwing glass right at the camera. This damage, however, is unfortunate vandalism.
Kodak Tri-X 400, Leica M7. Serious enough to write across the side of the tank, but not serious enough to have a sign made.
I wish I had the equipment then that I have now… I look back at these 10-year-old pictures and can’t ignore all the grain.