The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1899-08-13
SAVING ONE OLD CLIPPER.
SALVoRs, WORK ON THE M1CAULAY
WATCHED At PECONIC.

Secluded Beach Has Bcen Disturbed.
PEcoNIC, L. l., Aug. 12.-In the light airs
that gently watt an occasional small sail
ing-craft along the Sound off Peconic. and
blow inland the mosquitoes from the marsh
meadows about Goldsmiths Inlet so maxi
ing comfortable the Sound beach around the
old mill there, there Is this summer a re-
minder OF no small force OF the violence
with which these winds come in but few
weeks after the summer visitors forsake
this quiet stretch OF coast For years the
natural beauty OF this unconventionalized
shore-front, with the little bit OF pic
turesque added by the great wheel OF the
mill at the inlet, has been the sole attrac-
tion OF the place to those sojourners from
the cities who, in numbers so small that
no hotel has ever been built In Peconic for
their accommodation. find their way hero.
The same elements, with the magnetism Of
the sea for those who live on It's borders,
have drawn to the beach. summer after
summer. the neighboring residents, who
asked nothing more. finding as much for
their purposes in the rolling dunes as have
the urbanites and the artists, who profess
to see more than they. Sound trafic with
all that savors OF 1t has been far OFF from
the wanderer along the Peconic shore Only
the white canvas OF a distant yacht, or the
duler sails OF a cargo schooner, hull down
over toward the rarely visible Connecticut
shore. and the Horizons Point lighthouse
two miles away. have offered suggestion Of
the commerce the Sound sustains.
This summer It is different. Natives and
visitors wend their way in repeated trips to
the inlet beach to see what tides and men
have done, from day to day. to three sail
ing vessels which we're driven ashore there
in heavy gale last November. Pictures of
them and OF the mill are here given. Two
Of the craft will never go to sea again.
The third. to which the greatest interest
attaches. 1t is hoped to float upon a high
tide during the coming full moon. She is
the Macaulay. one OF the famous clipper
ships of past time The wreckng company
which raised the Reina Mercedes in San
tiago harbor and brought her to Norfolk is
working on the Macaulay, and has been do
ing so in fine weather for a long period, at
an expense OF some 5000 a week.
Though nearly half century old. the
oaken relic OF the hafcyon days OF the
wind tanners. which doubtless cost to build
100000 was valued when the November
gales sent her on the sands at 10000, and
the wreckers hope after all their labors to
get her off worth still four-fifths Of that
sum. To the lay spectator It looks hope
less task. She is high on the beach point
ed inland, with no water under her keel for
ward and little aft Her tall. bare sides
,-tc how ha iubo ho ba lie
of some OF the houses on the North road.
half mile away Her position has shifted
n little since she came in. The high tides
piled up in the winter furnished more water
for her to ride in on than than those OF the
I summer season have given her. But the
wreCkers, lacking her over to rest on her
starboard bilge, have scooped out trench
In the sand along the opposite side, along
| which runs the channel leading TO the in
| let through which the tides sweep to the
pond or reservoir where they are damned
| up until the miller wants to grind. At
| low tide he releases the water to turn his
machinery, and the swift current passing
| out the channel often carries considerable
| Of the shifting sand outward and away with
| it, in this way assisting the salvors. The
| suffered in the same storm and is no longer
| the feature OF the landscape that for many
years its great wheel made it.
The sand dug away by the steam dredge
which is operated by a donkey engine set
up in the Macaulay Is piled just inshore
| of her bow, and rises almost as high as
her stern. opposing 4 broad obstruction
to the view OF the Sound rom The min
road. 1t forms an artificial bluff, rising
| from the level shore, and doubtless when
the winds OF autumn get at it will be
worn and moulded into disinherited dune
as 1t were. far outside the wavering line
| OF Its fellows. The sand heap has COM
pletely altered the character OF that part
OF the beach which the people ofPeconic had
made the scene of their principal gather
ings and merry -mahings. For these 1t has
spoiled it. The Macauay. when she came in
| pointed right for the site OF these beach
plcnics About the uprights OF rude shell
ter which the men had erected last year
for the use OF these gatherings. the crew
of the stranded ship managed to heave a
line when she grounded, and by its means
came ashore. The shelter is gone now and
| 'hS ohoAc PAL 'ito, dNOlulHB Tue ugly nehI
OF sand. have to cross the miler's bridge
over the raceway, and encamp on the east
of the race.
The beach parties OF Peconic, known by
that name throughout the East End of the
island, were no haphazard ventures. but ar
established institution made much of BY
those on the unwritten list OF participants
who 1t is said were the envied OF the less
fortunate. The beach parties began each
year on the Fourth OF July. and were helt
on each succeeding Saturday. Wlth indie
pendence as their boast, the picnickers rare,
ly omitted an unconventional and unique
| feature, which came 10 be a characteristic
OF these functions OF theirs. The villa Bar
his OF the village habitually squatted Turk
ish fashion in the centre OF tho expansive
tabecloth which was spread upon the sands
whence like an automatic revolving castor
with eXtensible arms he handed. passed. o.
otherwise propelled the various edbes anC