![]() ![]() Having endured a brief period of industrial use followed by 75 years of abandonment, the resulting wilderness is characterized by the vine-covered relics of factories that thrived on the spot 100 years ago. Mariner’s Marsh makes up 107 acres of the area, buffering a dense residential neighborhood from the sprawling New York Container Terminal with a wide expanse of green. Here, an array of factories and freight lines are enveloped by a network of streams, swamps, ponds, and salt marshes, with place names like “Howland Hook” and “Old Place Creek” that wouldn’t feel out of place in a pirate story. Mariner’s Marsh, on Staten Island’s North Shore.Īt a bend in Staten Island’s North Shore where the Arthur Kill gives way to the Kill van Kull, there’s a strange, desolate landscape that’s equal parts industrial wasteland and pristine wilderness. Next up, we’ll continue our trip down Arthur Kill Road, delving deeper into the history of Charleston and the “haunted” Kreischer Mansion. This has been the second installment of a series of posts on the edges of Staten Island. (For that reason, I wouldn’t advise seeking them out for yourself.) While the scene has an ancient air, the plot was the site of a multi-generational family business until quite recently, according to a neighbor who gave me a stern warning for trespassing on private property. Chief among the relics was a group of corroded buses, apparently from the 1960’s. Nearby, a deserted graveyard of auto parts marked one of my most surprising finds to date. What’s left is a serene nature reserve that would thrill most bird-watchers, though they might have a hard time finding a way in. Only a few remain today after cleanup efforts by the city. A natural area known as Sharrot’s Shoreline was once filled with mountains of scrap metal and scores of abandoned cars. While there isn’t much history to glean from them, they are fascinating to look at. Just inland, marshes give way to roving woodlands that hold secrets of their own. If you look into any patch of untended forest, and many of the front yards, you’ll find a wealth of rusty relics of the one man’s treasure variety. Manufacturer’s marks on the bricks point to a wide range of origins. How all of them ended up here is a bit of a masonry mystery. Some are from much farther afield-“RELIANCE” Bricks hail from Texas “MO REX” from a town called Mexico, Missouri. The “RICHMOND” and “ATLANTIC” bricks were made in Staten Island, but others trace their ancestry to Brooklyn or New Jersey. Thanks to these markings and a devoted online community of brick collectors, it’s a simple matter to pinpoint their origins. Many of them are inscribed with the names of long-gone manufacturers, resembling fragments of time-worn tombstones. (The old adage “leave no stone unturned” applies here, as many of the most intricate pieces are one-sided.) I managed to find a beautiful acorn-themed tile with an ATLANTIC stamp, but plain bricks were more readily available. ![]() Enterprising beachcombers can still find Atlantic Terra Cotta tiles if they hunt long enough. It closed down in the 1940s and was demolished soon after, but much of the old factory is still there in the form of rubble. One area of interest at the foot of Ellis Street marks the site of The Atlantic Terra Cotta Company, which made colorful architectural ornaments for many notable city buildings, including the Flatiron and the Woolworth. The remains of the Atlantic Terra Cotta Company factory line the shores of the Arthur Kill at the end of Ellis Street. ![]() The fabric of the city dissolves on the outermost edges of Staten Island, and the ground is a layer cake of archaeological finds. But for those willing to brave the wilderness, there are rewards. In nesting season, geese are liable to attack (speaking from experience here). As the tide ebbs and flows, open shoreline gives way to mud and water, leaving you with no way out but the head-high reeds of the marsh. Wandering these regions can be treacherous if you don’t plan ahead. “Outerbridge Bridge” wouldn’t do, so they deemed it a “Crossing.” New Yorkers could be forgiven for assuming the name refers to its status as the most remote bridge in New York City, but it’s actually named for Eugenius Harvey Outerbridge, the first chairman of the Port Authority of New York and a resident of the borough. Tracing the Arthur Kill past the quaint historic houses of Tottenville, we enter into wilder territory and arrive at the base of Outerbridge Crossing, which spans the Arthur Kill between Charleston, SI and Perth Amboy, NJ. The borough is home to several lesser-known “boat graveyards” in addition to the famous Rossville salvage yard.
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