The Mary Murray
May 6th, 2014 by Bad Guy Joe
Here are some words you don't want to hear someone yelling at you on a Sunday morning at 9AM: "Hey! You were down in the marina! Stay right there I'm calling the police".
This took place nearly 10 years ago - but I remember it like it was yesterday. The sight of a large angry man running unarmed out of a house that was covered in valentines day decorations while barely dressed was more baffling than terrifying - and obviously the type of thing you recall years after. You must understand, having grown up in NYC in the 70s and 80s - no one acted like this unless they had a big gun in their hands. I immediately was more concerned about this person being insane than an actual threat. This wasn't NYC though - this was the suburbs of NJ, where I guess yelling at someone is meant to be scary?
Me and M were standing outside of the fence leading into the marina for a good 5 minutes having a lazy post-mission conversation. We were on public property. No crime was taking place at that time. Maybe if he caught us behind the fence, I could see being mad... but... his timing and actions just seemed so over the top at that moment.
The tall and salty man yelling these words was none other than George Searle - owner of the infamous Mary Murray. I didn't know this at the time, though I figured it out later when I saw his photo online.
Searle bought the old ferryboat at an auction in 1982 with plans on turning it into a floating restaurant. This conversion never happened. After a legal battle concerning environment damage being caused by the semi-sunken ferryboat, it was scrapped in 2008.
History
The Mary Murray was built and launched from the United Dry Docks on Staten Island in 1937 during a grand ceremony with Mayor LaGuardia and 500 other spectators in attendance. She was 277 feet long and cost $912,000 to build. "One of it's innovations, besides the streamlined design, will be a smoking cabin for women", hailed the NY Times.
After it entered service, it made the 5.2 mile journey between Staten Island and Manhattan for 45 years, before being retired and auctioned off on the cheap to George Searle in 1982.
At the time, George Searle wasn't the only one who wanted to preserve the old ferryboat:
"Ted Costa, a retired ferry captain who piloted the Mary Murray in her prime, and a group of "other old salties" tried to stop the auction of the ferryboat when she was taken out of service, but to no avail. They had hoped to turn her into a floating Staten Island Ferry museum.
"She was an old beauty," he said. "Sitting at the helm was nothing like going to an office or sitting behind a desk. We saw all the old steamships. We saw beautiful sunrises and sunsets. We saw the skyline change. I miss those days."
Not long after the ferry was scrapped, George Searle passed away.
Adventure
We arrived really early, maybe 7 or 8 AM. Sunday mornings are the best time to sneak into places - because absolutely no one expects it, and we rather not disturb anyone. The best hackers are ones who get in and out and no one is the wiser - something we did regularly (perhaps too regularly). We came up on the extremely quiet suburban street and parked on a bit away from where we were going - off on some dead end if I recall right.
There wasn't a soul in sight.
We simply walked right in. The fence to the 'marina' (if you could call it that) was an unmarked road barrier. It could easily be mistaken for a completely legal hiking trail. Other than by boat, it was the only ground access to the ferry - as it was at the very end of a peninsula. We took our time walking quite a ways back to where the ferry was run aground - stopping to photograph the various junk vehicles on the property.
We slipped onto the boat via a broken window. Once inside, it was immediately apparent that there was no saving this boat. A significant portion of it was submerged in water from the creek, and the rest was rusting away rather severely. It would have taken many many millions of dollars to repair this boat. The decay was all brought on by nature - there were no tags, scrappers hadn't ripped the copper out of it, and nothing seemed to be looted. In fact the boat was filled with a large quantity of junk. All manner or old rusting machinery and parts. It is as if it were being used at some point for storage - an observation made much more likely due to the placement of a rolldown gate cut into and installed on the side of the boat that faced land.
After poking around for awhile, taking our time to shoot many photos, we made our way back out the same way we came in. We were really quiet, and there were no cameras around that we had noticed. Back beyond the fence (on public property), we stopped to take one or two last photos. That's when George came running out at us - practically red with anger. The man didn't let us get a word in. When he went back inside, we headed straight for the car. Sticking around to wait for police to show up really made no sense. We had other things to do and wasting cops time over a non-crime wasn't on the to-do list. As we started the car George showed up right next to us in a Jeep (or was it a pick up?) - yelling and making some 'I have you now' type expression. I just gunned it, got on the turnpike and got off an exit or two later - just in case stateys would be looking for those 2 hardcore average white crooks in a crappy white Ford carrying - *gasp* cameras.
I half expected to hear from some police department or another from NJ, but nothing ever came of it.
The incident, and George Searle's later death, leaves me a little conflicted. I didn't want to bad mouth a guy who can't defend himself, but what happened that morning is exactly as I've told it. I'm pretty sure the boat was something of a local attraction and he was probably annoyed by still more visitors showing up unannounced. This isn't my problem though. People love things they're not supposed to or allowed to have access to. If he gave tours every now and then maybe he could have drummed up help in preserving the boat. I suspect though he liked his privacy more though - and was tired of goons showing up at all hours. Though honestly, me and M couldn't have been any less goonish or troublesome.
If anything, one can read his anger that morning to mean that he really, truly did care about the Mary Murray, and did indeed have the absolute best of intentions for eventually restoring her when he won her at auction. It is indeed a sordid tale that just before he passed, he probably had to look out his window and in the distance see this once proud ferryboat being cut up for scrap.
7 responses to “The Mary Murray”
awesome story. ironically, our local famous abandoned ferryboat, the Boblo Columbia, has just been purchased by some group over your way who want to restore it for cruises on the Hudson. it’s a wooden boat probably over 100 years old.
Yeah that wasn’t George Searle in the Jeep. And they did have guns so probably good you got out of there, and the fence on either side was private property. You really sound like a dickhead!
Hey ‘fckurmom’ – sounds like you’re pretty familiar with the man and judging from your foul mouth, probably cut from the same cloth.
Who is ‘they’? There was one person there that morning, and he didn’t have a gun. He wasn’t wearing more than a robe. Also we were standing on what was clearly the end of a public street at that moment, so no, ‘either side’ was not private property. But surely you already know this. Had he been armed, I suspect he’d have run afoul of some NJ weapons laws and could have landed in jail. Thanks for clarifying that it was indeed a jeep.
It’s safe to say I only got one view of this man – only got to see one side of him. Perhaps he was filled with a million other great characteristics. For all I know he was a great husband/parent/etc. (And anyone who cares to is welcome to add that perspective to comments here). But that’s not what we saw this particular Sunday morning 15+ years ago. This story is about that morning. I can only tell the story I know, from my direct perspective. I hate that it’s a negative one.
In honest retrospect, when we went on our adventure to the boat we didn’t know much about the boat or property. We assumed it belonged to some business that long went under. If we knew the boat’s owner lived right there, and still cared about the boat, we wouldn’t have walked right in (again, no serious security measures were in place – there was only a road barrier, not unlike those found at the start of hiking trails). If there was a sign or any indication that anyone at all owned that property and that it was in use, we wouldn’t have proceeded. It is that simple. Instead of running out red with anger, he could have struck up a conversation. This entire story would have turned out 500% different. I would have happily befriended such a person and done whatever is in my limited ability to help preserve that boat. If he gave tours of it, I bet a good chunk of money could have been made to preserve it. For whatever reason, that day and perhaps on many other days, this negative mindset did nothing to help save the boat. Perhaps saving it was never his plan, and the real money was in scrapping it? If so that’s also pretty sad, since at least one preservation group was interested before he bought it.
It was full of asbestos, hope you get checked for cancer.
Nah, I’m fireproof now as well. Thanks
It was private property, the ferry was in the condition it was in due to a bad hurricane and mostly from people who broke into it very often, every other day. He also wanted desperately to preserve it was open to giving it to a museum unfortunately it wasn’t possible. George Searle very much loved that ferry and has interviews with journalist who asked for permission to see it. His dreams for the ferry were ruined by constant vandalism, breaking windows, people stealing the old seats and curious people who could have gotten a tour if they called Mr.Searle, he gave tours all the time. Fixing the boat after damages from others got too expensive to maintain over time, on top of the hurricane that hit it many years earlier that destroyed the entire marina which is why it looked as it did. Also, people could get injured if not guided in the old ferry the floor was often unstable. I was lucky enough to tour it with permission and so were many locals who in fact did so often. His young grandchildren who lived in the house next door played in front of the marina often and he wanted them safe from random strangers ignoring the private property sign. The dismantling of the ferry broke his heart that he couldn’t save it. Please don’t disrespect a man you don’t know because of a single interaction. He was a kind man and if you called him at any point, even afterwards, he was very forgiving and would have talked to you and gave you a proper tour. He loved talking about the ferry. This makes me and people who grew up around this boat very sad.
Also, The Jeep wasn’t George Searle he never owned a Jeep, it was the person who lived directly next to the Marina who was an in-law of his who drove the Jeep. He often drove through to check the marina. George Searle lived further down the street and rarely drove his small car and he walked with a cane.