I’ve long been fascinated with the commuter yachts of the early 19th century. Custom-built wooden ships, they would ferry titans of industry and the captains of finance from their homes on Long Island and Connecticut to the island of Manhattan. Rumbling atop the water at 9 knots, flipping through the morning paper with a cup of coffee and a stogie, at those moments there was no doubt, these owners were somebodies.
Today that coffin-like corridor where the boroughs meet Connecticut and Long Island is a congested malaise. Mass transit, when it’s running well, shuttles hundreds of thousands into the city each day. Commuter yachts, as we knew them, are all but lost to history, replaced instead with graceless ferries.
