The first photographs I ever made, with my Dad’s guidance, were of tugboats and barges moored at piers along the Manhattan side of the East River in New York. I loved the deep rumbling sound of their diesel engines and most of all, the piercing “toot” of the tugboat whistles. I watched as teams of powerful tugs nudged huge vessels into piers on the Manhattan and Brooklyn shores and wondered what it would be like to take a trip on a tug.
This morning I wandered down to the State Pier in Gloucester, MA with a camera and one lens, hoping to find some photographs of fishermen. I spoke to one lobsterman who said that it hardly pays to go out these days.