When you’re on the Staten Island Ferry, the city gets quieter as the boat pushes past the river’s flow to the opposite shore. I’ve taken two round trips on it since I’ve been here. It’s a good fallback if you want to go out at night but don’t want to spend money.
Being on the boat is therapeutic. On the way down to the southern tip of Manhattan, you bump against so many people. The lights are bright, and the buildings surround you. But on the ferry, I think of all the people I had passed on the street and how they become small specks, part of one collective thing — the city.
If I lean over the railing, I can pretend I’m escaping the vessel, which most people use to go to work and go home. I can ignore the orange paint and the dull yellow lights behind me and put myself in the dark. As poetic as it seems, I wish I could leave the boat midway and drift in the middle of the water (without having to swim or get wet or get eaten by a shark or poisoned by pollution). If only I had my own personal boat… The wind was ferocious. Girls: pull your hair back. The first time I went was with my DJNF friends. We departed at 11 p.m. and returned to Manhattan at midnight — half an hour each way. I also went with Meaghan on her visit. While in the area, we explored the financial district and visited the World Trade Center site, reminiscing on that infamous day in 2001.
I don’t see last weekend as my last time on the ferry. But I do wonder if the trip to Staten Island could get old. I can’t see why many passengers would sit inside the boat even if there is plenty of room outside to enjoy the view. I guess, like with most things, excitement dies with repetition.
Emilee Lindner 