The full-bodied rumble from the engine room is testament to her strength. You can feel the twin E.M.D. 645 V12’s, in your chest when she throttles up. She is a twin screw package of muscle that has all the ass she needs to do any job. Probably one of the liveliest boats at sea you’ll likely find, but she always got us home. The ride was so uncomfortable we’d sometimes muse, “she won’t kill you, she’ll just make you wish you were dead”.
The ride aside, what makes the Zachery special is that she is a hawser boat, not a modern tow-winch equipped workhorse. Yes, she’s a bit old fashioned, but I have a warm spot in my heart for this boat.
The hawser is complemented by a towing strap which is basically a loop of the 9” rope which will be draped over the main bitts as the first in a series of links in a standard towing setup. The strap is a length of hawser roughly 30 feet long. It is the primary connection to the tug and is looped over the “aft” or stern main bitts. This loop of rope is in place as a safety. The ability to cut away from the tow would be as simple as taking an axe to the strap.
Before the strap is spliced to itself, a thimble is inserted at the outer end of the loop that will accept a large safety shackle.
The Zachery’s hawser chain is 25 links of 12” studded chain, the same as one would find on a ship’s anchor rode. The hawser chain is shackled to the thimble end of the tow strap. Now the hawser chain is shackled to the bottom of the pile.
The barge is set up with its own gear. The main towing bridle is usually one leg of chain from each corner of the bow to a “fishplate”. (The fishplate is a triangle of heavy plate steel with attachment available on each “point”.) The legs of the bridle are permanantly attached by shackles to this plate. Then a single leg of chain or wire is shackled into the fishplate as the tow pennant. The tug will pass a small line over to the barge and the bargeman will attach his tow pennant so it can be pulled aboard the tug. The deckhands make quick work of getting the tow pennant aboard and then shackling in the hawser.
Now the tricky part. It’s just as important how one gets away from the barge and streams the hawser. Like holding a tiger’s tail, you don’t just open your fingers and let go, you need a plan. Frequently the tug needs to maneuver for sea room before streaming the entire hawser. The hawser is “made fast” to the main bitts at this point and held short. Getting away from the barge while the hawser is attached takes a steady hand and the awareness of where the rope is at all times. The deck gang stands by until they get the word to, “let her go”. At that point, a rope stopper has been set to hold the hawser so the turns on the main bitts can be removed.
As the last turns are thrown off, the stopper is released and the tug advances leaving the barge behind. The hawser begins to peel off its layers and slips over the rail. The care exercised faking down the hawser after its last deployment will now show its value.
If the operator just speeds away, the hawser can develop a deadly whipping and lashing motion across the fantail. Talk about a “tiger by the tail”, it gets real ugly when the rope is flying off the boat in a hurry.
In the early 70’s I was employed as a deckhand for a short time on the Tug Bronx 5. Our work included bringing tows of crushed stone from Roundout Creek in Kingston, New York to the stakeboats off Jersey City, New Jersey.
A raft of scows was assembled in East Kingston and then towed down to the city. On one memorable trip the tow was set on a hawser in Haverstraw Bay due to some rather nasty thunderstorm activity. I was introduced to the “old style of hawser pulling” at the Battery later that trip. An introduction I’m not likely to forget, I did not think it was fun.
The way it worked sans capstan is thus:
The deck gang consisting of 4 deckhands, (2 per watch) is called out. After slowing the tow, the helmsman would “back and fill” maneuvering the tug to stay properly oriented with the tow and to keep the line slack for the men pulling it in. A formidable task with a single screw boat, a great deal of caution was necessary to avoid falling out of shape and sweeping the deck with the line. There was also a risk of fouling the tug’s propellor with the hawser if there was too much slack in the water near the wheel.
Two men then climb up onto the fantail and face the tow with the hawser between their legs. With backs bent, hand over hand, the men would pull for all they’re worth. The two men on deck “fake” the line down in a tightly packed pile, layer by layer. The teams take turns every ten minutes so they can ease their backs and “crosstrain” a bit.
The deck gang relies on the helmsman to keep the boat in shape and his eyes open. Should the tow fall out of shape badly enough, the helmsman will stop the show and have the deckhands secure the hawser to the main bitts so everything can be pulled back into shape all over again. Hawser recovery can’t resume until everything settles down. Searoom is a prime consideration, but it’s never above the safety of the crew. If things get unmanageable (running out of sea-room, traffic, equipment issues), we head back out and start over so we can safely recover the hawser and have a reasonable amount of room for the operation. One must be aware that a fully set sea-hawser has the tug and tow connected but separated by almost 2,000 feet. We know we need some serious acreage to do the job.
The term “shortening up” refers to the need to pull in most of the towline but remaining in towing mode until the tug and tow find calmer water. Calm enough that the tug can “make up” in a different configuration without shock-loading the gear from heavy swells. When a swell is running, it’s safer to stay on the hawser. So, we’ll tow to a calm place inside the harbor and complete the operation in sheltered waters.
The timeframe is generally one to two hours if the weather and tow cooperate.
Once the hawser is shortened up enough to pull the pennant aboard, the stopper is set, the shackle is released, and the tug maneuvers alongside or into the push notch to re-capture the tow.
It’s a regular evolution for hawser boats. With a deck capstan there is a two man deck gang needed to recover the towing gear, they “fake down” while the capstan pulls.
Wire boats start an engine, engage a clutch, and pull in their wire in until the tow shackle is over the deck. No one needs to be on deck until it’s time to break tow and pick up the barge.
I tend to lean toward the traditional side of the trade since I have a bit of a bias when it comes to hawser boats. If you work on a “hawser boat”, you still have a foot in the past even if the boat is fairly new. It’s the old fashioned, bare-bones-basic way of offshore towing.
I’ll take the extra work for the peace of mind I get from the stretch of the hawser, set it and forget it. It’s very forgiving where a wire might tend to pull up taut and surge or “banjo string”. I don’t have a great concern about how deep my towline is sinking. Canternary is the dip in the wire when it is at its towing length. The more wire that’s out, the deeper it sinks. Snagging the bottom or polishing the wire as it drags bottom are major concerns with wire. Both would weaken the integrity of the gear, very expensive gear.
The traditional hawser-boat is fading from use for oil transportation. Though they are still in use, new hawser boats are not being built for the petroleum transportation trade. The tow-wire and A.T.B. (articulated tug and barge) configurations are slowly but surely relegating the hawser-boat to the history books. Emergency hawsers remain as the only vestige of the old way. They are an inexpensive but reliable standby for an unforeseen circumstance. Once the main wire parts, it isn’t really a simple task to repair it and put it back in service. If a rope hawser parts it can be recovered, re-spliced, and redeployed in fairly short order.
These videos are as good an illustration as you’ll get of the routine we use for setting for sea and recovery. It really doesn’t matter how cold, icy, or uncomfortable it may be. The job gets done.

In the case of a wire boat, the constant monitoring of the wire is necessary and if she’s equipped with a true towing machine the amount of give and take the winch allows has to be monitored. The “canternary” of the wire (illustrated above) is always a concern. Once the tow is set, the hawser boat’s towline will ride at or very near the surface as the tug throttles up and will stay shallow while the tug maintains a good solid strain.
A towing machine renders wire as the strain exceeds the set limit and should recover it when the strain eases, in theory anyway. The hawser boat is done until it’s time to recover. The hawser will stretch 25-30% of its length. That’s nearly 500′ or so when fully deployed. And even when it’s near its breaking point, it can stretch another 13% before failing. So it’s quite forgiving but it’s not to be taken for granted, it’s only a matter of when it will fail, not if.

Shortening up;
In the videos depicting the recovery, you’ll note that the first thing done is the recovery of the chain, the breaking down of the shackles, and the fairleading of the hawser onto the capstan. Once the hawser has enough turns on the capstan, the “pin” is set in the rail to keep the rope from sweeping the pile and maybe injuring one of the deck gang. The hawser is pulled in and faked down until the desired length is achieved. The proper practice would include tying down the pile until it’s time to recover the rest of the hawser. The chafing gear is set to prevent wear on the hawser from the friction of riding the rail. This gear has been modified from the heavy old style oaken hawser boards to PVC pipe, split and laced. Easier to handle and safer to deploy. Setting the “hawser-board” or any chafing gear on a shortened hawser is a touchy and delicate dance the deckhands must perform on the fantail in order to protect the line when it lays on the rail. It’s easy to get killed or swept overboard if you’re standing in the wrong place at the right time.

So, is a hawser boat better? There is the stretch (up to 30%) of the line (a plus). It will give just enough when there’s a following sea and not jar you out of your seat like a towing machine can when it renders cable to ease any surge (a plus). There’s a lot more labor involved when it comes to recovering the tow and the deck crew is more exposed and in harm’s way (a minus). The hawser’s entire recovery process can take about 45 minutes to an hour, rain or shine, good weather or bad, rough or calm. (eh, a wash) The wire would take 15-20 minutes depending on the weather.
The West Coast boys tow with a lot more wire than the East Coast does, the deeper water makes life a little easier for a wire boat. Here on the East Coast the shallow water requires a determined effort to keep the wire off the bottom and avoid snags that dot the graveyard of the Western Atlantic basin. A hawser boat generally won’t have more than 2000′ of rope for the main tow hawser, after that its a waste.
So, we can ponder, discuss, or argue the benefit of one over the other but as things get more modern we’ll see fewer hawser boats. Nobody is building dedicated hawser boats anymore. The customer is all about hanging on to the tow no matter what, and a wire is more suited to the task.
How long does a towing hawser usually last? Well, since you ask…
In my experience the service life of the main towing hawser is directly related to the initial quality of the rope and the care it has been given over the term of its use. Most tow hawsers I’ve used have been in the 9″ circumference range and were generally 1,800′ long when new. This type of hawser was generally a 3 strand, right hand soft lay nylon and would be delivered with closed thimbles spliced into either end. The first time this hawser was “set to the chains” is when we would get to see if its stretching ability was appropriate and correct, roughly 25-30% elongation under a steady strain is to be expected. The canternary one would expect from a similar length of wire is not present with a hawser, it rides very close to the surface when under strain.
The hawser’s retrieval is the time one must pay close attention to the handling of this line since dragging the bottom is generally unavoidable even if it’s a bad idea. Most hawser boats can’t pull and fake down a hawser without a good deal of sea-room or while making a good deal of headway. It’s a labor intensive operation that requires up to an hour under normal circumstances for an experienced deck crew. Mud and grit insinuates into the rope quite easily and can have a detrimental effect on the core’s ability to stretch as it should without damaging the inner yarns. Dragging bottom also increases the exposure to snags and pulls of the outer sheath.
Towing “shortened up” will stress the outer yarns and increase wear from friction if the line is shock loaded too much. Wire boats have the ability to maintain a fair amount of headway and still rewind their tow wire without dropping it to the bottom in most cases, and it’s accomplished fewer men.
To extend its safe working life, the hawser’s amount of wear needs to be monitored closely. I have had hawsers of this type last roughly 1,500 towing hours (more or less) and still have some useful life left. I’ve also seen them fail right off the reel. Usually though , a hawser can be expected to fail at the outer splice after a few hundred hours and should have its thimble splices renewed every so often to stay ahead of this predictable failure. This interval is a judgment call made on a case by case basis, I don’t have a magic number.

Thimble splice
It’s also a good practice to shorten the hawser when renewing thimble splices just enough so the working end of the hawser is retired before it’s too worn to take a sudden load. Once the working length has been reduced by 15-20% one should start looking at replacement. The functionality of a hawser is in its length, more is better.
When figuring your working hours it’s necessary to count all the time on the hawser, not just when its fully deployed since running “shortened up” causes the most wear and tear on the line. “End for ending” a tow hawser may be useful to extend the life of the rope but not unless the splices have been renewed and any heavily worn length has been removed just prior to swapping ends. Adding a length of new rope to the hawser is not advisable.
Short splices are used as necessary but they can reduce the working strength of the hawser and create a “weak link”. It’s not common practice to end for end a sea hawser.
When a sea hawser fails, the thimble splice nearest the tow is the most likely point of failure. In this case it’s necessary to retrieve the entire hawser and cut away the frayed and un-layed end and splice another thimble into the end. The tow needs to be corralled and recovered, it’s a familiar but different evolution from setting the tow in the first place. The biggest difference will be the proximity of land, traffic, shoals, or any other hazard that would be of concern since you haven’t been able to choose where this would occur. The recovery needs to be completed in short order to get things under control and safely away from the danger of collision, allision, or grounding.
The hawser needs to be recovered so it doesn’t endanger the tug if there is enough room and time to do it without risking the tug’s safety. Having more than 1000′ of rope trailing the boat as you try to recover your tow is a delicate situation, take the hawser in the wheel and you’re hobbled. The priorities are apparent. To call it stressful would be understating it to the n’th degree.
The 1,500 hours may be exceeded or never met depending on any number of variables. The average I experienced on the Zachery Reinauer was very nearly spot on within a 100 hours or so. My crew and I did a lot of shortened up towing and a good amount of coastwise towing with her. The workload for the hawser was fairly intense with barges in the 60-75k barrel range loaded or empty.
Since I tend to lean toward a more traditional side of the trade I have a bit of a bias when it comes to hawser boats. If you work a “hawser boat”, you still have a foot in the past even if the boat is fairly new. It’s the old fashioned, bare bones basic way of offshore towing.
After one very busy two week hitch, I tallied the amount of hawser my crew had pulled during the tour, it added up to 4 miles of rope. Whether that’s good or bad depends on how “in shape” you are. It certainly gives you bragging rights when a “wire boat guy” starts crying about how hard he’s working!
Let her out to the chain Capt.! That’s how I feel. Let her out to the chain!
I know for a fact you loved letting her out to the chain.
Don’t forget the hooks that every deckhand used to drag the chain around the deck. Used it often while decking on the Texaco Sky Chief and Texaco Marfak II.
Hi Capt. Bill,
I have enjoyed looking at your blog, and reading your column in the TES journal. Your efforts at sharing your knowledge are greatly appreciated here.
I spent the winter of 03 -04 on the Matthew Tibbets with Cliff, after spending a couple of years as a DEMAC at BTT. I became very familiar with hauling hauser that year, and the “what goes out must come back” thing really resonates with me. We had it somewhat easy because we only had a 7 or 8 in hawser, it didn’t seems as heavy as say, the Vincent’s did. Bill Rowe and I would get it done – usually I would be in the box, and Bill would be on the capstan. If the engineer was up, he would stand up on the boat deck with the operator, giving us his most impassive and imperious look. On the Vincent it would take three of us to wrestle the lays back in the box.
In those days, I was in the best shape of my life – and I often brag about the rigors of hawser work to my deckhands today – who have no clue. The only thing I didn’t like was the electric capstan, which was only allowed to operate on one speed, very fast. I remember scrambling around in the box, trying to keep up with the capstan. When Cliff was on watch, he did an awesome job of keeping the hawser away from the box. When the mate was up, it was a hit or miss affair, and I’d have to dance around the working end of it. I never saw the pin in action, now I know what those fittings were for. As I remember it, the Vincent had a horn on the rail, that served that purpose.
I remember a short stint on the Ocean King back in the eighties. It seemed easier because I was only 18 at the time, and the box was right there behind the capstan, due to the short aft deck.
Nowadays I’m on the Mary Alice, and it’s keep the wire off the bottom, and don’t get run over by the barge, or wander in the way of any traffic while you’re getting it done. Just when I think I’ve “got it down” I find something new to learn.
Again, thanks for all your efforts, I consider it a privilege to have access to your writing.
Al
Ah Yes, Hauling Hawser in the winter! I decked on the “New England Sun” for 3 years, which in addition to being a hawser boat, was single screw! We worked from Portland to Richmond, VA. with that boat-alot of Ct. River work as well as Hudson River. The worst was going to Mill Basin-a tow job 95% of the time across Coney Island Channel-those &%$#$%& Hawser Boards for a 30 min tow! Some hitches we did 8-10 Brooklyn Jobs-a killer. We finally got a 10″ 8 braid 300′ Hawser for those jobs-it eliminated the need for the boards. It also work well for coming down the James and Ct. rivers as long as it was nice in the Sound. I used to grumble and swear about the guy at the aft controls until I started Steering-it was tough to keep that hawser straight behind you with a light barge in the wind with a single screw! And Swash Channel was was not always very forgiving to a Green Guy! Yea wire is easier, but there is a something about learning the hard way that sticks with you after all these years…
What Matt would this be? Harr!
If the deck hands are complaining around here about life on the ATB, I tell them stories about the “rope boats.” It doesn’t make much of a difference, tell the truth, but it reminds me how far I’ve watched the boats change up. Nice article.
I worked 5 years on conventional tugs, then moved to an ATB for 5 years. Now (very happily so) I have returned to real tug life. And all I could think the first time we put her stretched out to the chain behind us was ” damn , that’s a sexy sight.” HA HA!
Hey I remember and spent many a cold night haulin’ hawser in L.I. Sound, the Narrows, and other places along the east coast.
I spent a lot time on hawser boats working in the dredging biz.
I go back to a time on the tug Charles F. Bickel (she was a wooden boat and direct reversible engine).
I started working on tugs in 1961 on Long Island Sound
out of Port Washington, Manhasset bay.
Well boys the cook is callin’ me for dinner so I will say good night.
Capt. Bill Gibson
Hey Capt Bill,
I really enjoy your blog and I’ve saved quite a few pictures of the Zachery on my harddrive. I’m a senior in the Small Vessel Operations program at Maine Maritime and got my start towing on a smaller hawser boat called the Jaguar out of new bedford with Capt. Charlie Mitchell who is a real master of the trade. I’ve done ship work on tractors and coastal towing on wire boats and I still have to say I love the hawser work the most.
Always enjoy reading about those who work on the water here. Got a question about the bargeman in the video. Seems to me you need to be a special kind of person to work on one. That is you like to be alone.:) Some questions and thoughts:
1) Seems to me being on the barge offers some advantages over being on the Tug. Quieter for one. Is this true? How about comfort wise? No going down to the engine room to warm up though I bet.
2) Of course there is a certain danger living on top tons of combustable cargo. Do the bargemen get extra pay to do it?
3) In today’s world with cell phones, IPADS and computers it is probably a little less lonely on the barge. What did a fella do in the “old days” to keep busy? Read a lot I suppose.
Hi Mike, The tanker-man has a partner that works the back watch (12-6), so he’s really not alone.
Except for the noise from her gen-set, the barge tends to be quieter when under tow but much louder while discharging her cargo. The pump engines make a respectable racket.
Their accommodations are tight but quite comfortable.
Living on top of combustible/explosive cargo is always in mind,
the pay is more than a deckhand less than a mate.
Most guys have some sort of electronic link to the outside world. But, when you get far enough offshore, you’re out of range and back to basics. Broadcast TV and reading are the fallback position, same as the old days.. That said, when we’re underway offshore and the weather is reasonable, deck work and maintenance is the order of the day.
Captain Brucato
Thanks for the insight to the working life on the barge.
Mike I was deck hand, cook, and mate on this tug when it was the the Mobil One. Probably logged close to 4 years at sea own this. Man that hawser was a bitch. Worse case a trip,to the east, pulling shortening up at buzz bay entrance, pull the rest in before the canal. THEN re- splice the eye after the push gear had been put out. Then again, out goes the 10″ line on the east end. Lung searing I tell yA, and I was in good shape! Enjoy your blog. Regards Peter
Pete, It’s Bill BTW, nothing like a hawser boat to get you in shape especially if you’re on the Northeast run. During one hitch my guys pulled and set over two miles worth of hawser. They were certain it felt like much more, can’t say as I blame them.. That was one long winter hitch.
I had the pleasure of working with both crews on the Zachery Reinauer from Jan-May 2012, as a engineering cadet from NY Maritime College. I absolutely loved being out on deck for all hawser operations, and Captain Bill is 100% spot on by saying a you need a strong back. We had quite a few trips with the hawser going to the chain, and as luck would have it, it would begin to rain/snow just about each time we would step out on deck to shorten up or retrieve the hawser. Although I have only been sailing on vessel for about 2 years, I have have the greatest respect for anyone working on a hawser boat. I spent a total of 100 days on the Zachery Reinauer, and my time on the vessel gave me a true appreciation for the hard work that the crews endure day in and day out. I would return to a hawser boat in a heartbeat if given the opportunity, it is the type of vessel that builds crew unity, and makes tugboat life bearable. I never felt homesick while on the vessel, because the crew quickly became an extension of my family, there were times of needless arguments and bickering, but at the end of the day you become as close to family as a crew can be. Thanks for this great blog, a perfect look into life on a hawser boat.
Any body here done any creek hawser work .
I worked on a converted harbor tug in the late 70’s a 98 foot single screw vessel pressed into service in the Caribbean. I have always had fond memories of those days before the internet. We had SSB and radar and that was it.
Ahoy, worked the John with Capt Hanley (crazy buzzard) and later the Stephen with Ed Landy til 2000 and before all that the new Barney Turecamo right out of the shipyard with George Sadler, now there was a salty man.
On the Barney we snapped the wire offa Delaware in an April noreaster gale with that Blue Cicle Cement Alexandria fully laden by 19,000 tons on the end about 1500 feet. Being a salvage Capt in a previous life Capt George showed us how to throw a wire bowline in the 3 1/2 “which we wrangled into shape with iron bars and lines led through the deck horn and finished it off with the thimble held in with just one clamp. He wasn’t up for messing with the nearly dozen Crosby clamps as the sea state 48 hours after the storm was 4 foot ocean rollers and the ebb tide of the Delaware was due to change
The 400ft 12” emergency hawser carried by the barge looked practically dental floss off the bow of 390ft limping in to Norfolk at 3 knots
And here all that time on the John doing all that hawser work, I thought us manly enough having to flake it onto the pallet as it came off the capstan, until I learned the Zachery had no such luxury
Chris Stephenson, Capt Hanley’s mate told all about Norwegian Steam being Norwegian himself and it seems deck duties on the Zach were exactly like that
Was the best years of my life and no way did I grow old enough before leaving … and every day since, the hook I swallowed tastes just as bad
Every man I meet who had worked the tugs feels exactly the same as the way as I do