There was a time when thousands of American sailors made their living by the wind. Much of this work took place along the coast, where stout wooden ships carried timber, bricks, canvas, hay, and hides to wherever they were needed most. Where they landed, new industries arose and coastal towns became centers of trade and innovation.
Today, this excitement is returning to New York’s Hudson Valley through an emerging sail freight network and the hard work of some thoughtful mariners.
On a cool morning in September 2023, I climbed aboard the 64-foot cargo schooner Apollonia as she lay alongside a floating dock on New York’s East River. With her hard-chined hull, the ship more closely resembled a workboat than any of the gleaming yachts around her. But a quick look aloft revealed something more: a traditional sailing rig, complete with two masts, varnished fir spars, and hand-made wooden blocks. With all of this set atop a black steel body, Apollonia is at once a picture of craft and defiance: a bit of punk.
I joined the ship to better understand the challenges and unique capabilities of a sail freight vessel in the present day. But also, just to be part of something that feels right. Apollonia’s simple mission is to move cargo sustainably, using as little fossil fuel as possible, and a quick chat with any member of the crew reveals a deep understanding of what sustainability takes to achieve. Somewhat exhausted by talk and theories of change, I wanted to experience a typical workday “before the mast.”
Our adventure began in the Brooklyn way with coffee and bagels, but soon the real work of sail freight began. Hastened by a ten-knot breeze and slack tide, Captain Sam Merrett, Supercargo Brad Vogel, and our crew of three secured the cargo hatch, readied the sails, and cast off the lines. Within minutes, James, Emma, and Molly had set all four sails, and we were silently, beautifully underway in one of the world’s busiest bodies of water.
Our plan was to make a brief dropoff of maple syrup, polenta, hot sauce, and CSA-style “Boat Boxes” at the South Street Seaport in Manhattan, then set sail again and ride the ebb through the Buttermilk Channel into the notorious Gowanus Canal. There, for the first time, we’d exchange cargo with the crew of the Gowanus Dredgers Canoe Club before heading north toward the quirky neighborhood of Red Hook, where we’d offload and deliver 700 pounds of floor-malted barley by electric cargo bike to our long-time friends at Strong Rope Brewery. Daylight be damned, we’d then provision the boat for a week’s more sailing, and finally throw a dockside party complete with an Irish band for the ship’s devotees. All of this was to be accomplished in true sail freight fashion: using the power of wind, sun, tide, and muscle to move the various products of local labor into the hands of those who appreciate the journey.
In the mid-1800s, the advent of steamboats and railways signaled a broad cultural turn toward discount and efficiency, and soon put an end to sail freight in this part of the world. Shipyards, ports, and waterfront towns built on the backs of sailors fell into disrepair when the vessels themselves were no longer needed. Today, along the 150-mile stretch of river from Albany to Brooklyn, one sees the remnants of old brickyards, crumbling piers, and legacies of industrial pollution. While many in the Hudson Valley yearn to hear these towns and their sailors sing again, we’ve also learned from experience that careless development has its consequences. It’s not easy to articulate a clear, equitable vision of the waterfront when climate change is changing everything.
Nevertheless, in 2012 a local farmer named Erik Andrus took radical action to revitalize the waterfront and reduce his own industry’s carbon footprint. Together with family and friends, Andrus built Ceres, a 15-ton sailing barge that for the next two years would carry produce along the river under the banner of the Vermont Sail Freight Project. Much of this project was managed by a Catskills farmer, Tianna Kennedy, who along with Andrus helped plant the seeds of a sail freight revival throughout the Hudson Valley. When Erik eventually turned his attention back to farming, Tianna carried forth the philosophy, ingenuity, and hard work of the VSFP crew, inspiring Sam Merrett and friends to dig deep into the Craigslist archive to find an aging steel schooner. In 2014, Sam reached out to Tianna to help advise on the new initiative, and with a new group of friends they began the long process of restoration. Apollonia was born.
While there is much talk of sustainability these days, Apollonia’s crew find the best lessons are learned by doing. Take our recent foray into the Gowanus Canal as an example: Where most vessels would lower sail and start their engines, we pressed on, making the first of many controlled gybes in the upper reaches of the narrow canal. With full sail set, we slid past moored barges and idling tugs, deeper into one of the most polluted waterways in the country. With each maneuver, I was reminded of the immense knowledge, skill, patience, and guts required to operate a schooner in the confines of an urban river, where depths and currents are not always certain and skyscrapers spin the wind into strange, unpredictable eddies. When we finally struck sail, a weathered old captain on a nearby tug clapped a pack of cigarettes: high praise in these parts.
"Since 2020, Apollonia has transported over 200,000 pounds of cargo. We are not a living history project, but a tangible effort to decarbonize regional shipping and inspire others to do the same."
The shipment itself was a success, but perhaps more importantly, we learned a little more about the politics and topography of the urban waterfront. For Apollonia, each venture into places like the Gowanus helps us discover where sustainable logistics might have a foothold, and likewise, what physical barriers and political red tape exist to prevent it. These fact-finding missions are made possible by the hard work of the crew, who themselves rely on the best equipment, skill, food, rest, and pay to do their job well. As it turns out, the real work of environmental sustainability is built upon quality goods and sustainable labor.
Since 2020, Apollonia has transported over 200,000 pounds of cargo. We are not a living history project, but a tangible effort to decarbonize regional shipping and inspire others to do the same. Through monthly voyages along the Hudson River, we connect producers and consumers who are committed to environmental conservation and an equitable, just transition to the post-carbon economy. Along the way, we have learned countless lessons about the river called “Mahicannituck” by its original Lenape stewards, and likely more about waterfront politics than Marlon Brando ever could.
As Apollonia heads into the 2024 sail freight season, we’re excited to announce our Working Sailor Program. We’re pulling together everything we’ve learned to prepare our crew for the modern sail freight era, so together we may continue our simple mission of moving cargo sustainably. Check out our website to learn more, and let’s raise a glass of something Windshipped for a better future.
About the Author:
Pat Nason is a USCG-licensed Captain and scholar (Ph.D. in Cultural Anthropology from Columbia University) based in New York City. He’s driven everything from traditional dugout canoes to gaff-rigged schooners and lectured around the world on subjects of traditional navigation, environmental history, and equitable climate resilience. As Climate Strategist for Schooner Apollonia, he helps an established sail freight operation put good actions into words, reaching diverse audiences while staying true to mission.
