Hunter's Point South Park and Gantry Plaza State Park

Our three-borough NYC Ferry tour began with a sail from Manhattan to the new Naval Cemetery Landscape in Brooklyn. It continued in Queens at another new park, Hunter's Point South Park, which was, the Parks Department website notes, "until recently an abandoned post-industrial area in Long Island City."

Until, that is, the advent of the NYC Ferry. If that wonderful, rampantly money-losing service survives the COVID-19 financial crisis—and, in the slightly longer term, the sea level rise that's on track to submerge the city's coastline—it will stand, or rather float, as Mayor Bill de Blasio's signature legacy. And the 10 newly constructed acres of Hunter's Point South Park are more than anything else a part of the ferry infrastructure.

Luckily for hungry city explorers, there's food here: a pandemic-thinned takeout menu from LIC Landing.

It was a quiet day on the turf.

Apparently someone had been wishing for winter.

But the kids here today were perfectly happy with water in its unfrozen form. Even Mrs. Odyssey took a spin through the spray.

The dogs were having a grand time too.

The landscaping reclined in summer bloom.

And the East River lay reasonably calm.

So Hunter's Point South Park proves to be mostly a place for activities, not relaxation. It's contiguous with Gantry Plaza State Park, which now has its own ferry landing just to the north.

It shocked me a bit to discover that my previous visit to Gantry was a full decade ago, when this blog was a mere stripling. Like the blog, Gantry Plaza has developed apace. It still hugs a narrow strip of waterfront. But there's more length to walk. The gantries remain, testaments to the area's industrial past. But the vegetation feels wilder. A spectacular row of food trucks abuts the northern part of the park. Most notably, the Pepsi sign, once slated for oblivion, has not only been preserved, but has evolved into a sculpture-like picnic spot.

Walk past the park's northern tip and cut east along Eleventh Street Basin, and you'll spot a relic of ferries past. The old Prudence Ferry operated in Rhode Island into the late 1990s and, it's said, will still crank up if you ask it nicely. It resides now in front of the old Plaxall warehouse complex. Plaxall bought the boat intending to turn it into a floating beer garden, while the warehouses were slated to be demolished to make room for the canceled Amazon headquarters. None of that happened, and the basin is a quiet, untended place on a beautiful summer weekend, quite the contrast to the bustle of the parks just below.

All photos © Jon Sobel, Critical Lens Media

Socrates Sculpture Park

One of New York City's most eccentric parks is a four-acre tract of scrubby grass, half sculpture garden and half playground, by the East River in Long Island City (or, according to some, in Astoria), Queens.

Founded in 1985 by a group of artists led by sculptor Mark di Suvero, Socrates Sculpture Park is named for the ancient Greek philosopher and teacher, and in honor of Astoria's large Greek-American population.

On Saturdays, at least until November, it hosts a Farmer's Market. There's also a fancy-coffee vendor. On the ground, on a Saturday in late fall, there's more mud than grass. All this only adds to the anything-goes character of the place. Ungenerously, a commenter on this blog post called it a "glorified dog-run," but I suppose that's apropos on a blog called "Queens Crap."

Each year the exhibits change. This season's sculptures lend themselves to play. How can you resist a sculpture you can slide down? (Also, what kid doesn't love a muddy field?)

Bigger kids too find this place hard to resist.

A bit closer to the river it feels more parklike, less playgroundy.

And then there's the waterfront itself.

One thing I've learned from internet searches about this neighborhood: I'm not stepping into the quagmire of what's Long Island City, what's Astoria, and how Ravenswood fits in to it all. People get all in a huff about their neighborhood names and histories. What I do know is that Hallet's Cove is the name for the inlet on whose southern border you will find this quirky mudfield called Socrates Sculpture Park (though you won't see the Hallet's Cove moniker on Google Maps).

In any case, and whatever neighborhood you insist you live in, it's probably best to follow the advice written on the rock in the lower right of the photo.