The Black Duck,
a 75-seat restaurant and lounge, is quickly emerging as one
of Manhattan's best-kept secrets. Black Duck highlights Pan-Atlantic
bistro fare and is housed in the new Park South Hotel, a boutique
property located on 28th Street between Park and Lexington
Avenues. With the look and feel of a neighborhood bistro,
the Black Duck offers guests a relaxing and welcoming ambiance
and an unpretentious menu. The Black Duck is open every evening.
We
offer Happy Hour, Jazz and Classic James Bond Movie Night! See
our Events page for
more details. View photos from the James
Beard Goodbye Prohibition Party!
Parking
There
is a parking garage conveniently located across the street from
the Black Duck or a garage located on 28th Street between 2nd
and 3rd Ave.
The
Tale of the Black Duck
Over
a half a century ago, the rumrunner the Black Duck
was a fed-dodging legend. During prohibition, the speedy "rummy"
continually out-ran the Coast Guard, much to the delight of
drinkers throughout New England. For over a decade, the Black
Duck was a constant embarrassment to the authorities and
was at the top of the "Coqasties” wanted list.
With
peace in Europe after World War I, a bizarre chapter in the
story of Narragansett Bay began. It was to last 14 years, a
period of unparalleled smuggling, piracy, murder, and lawlessness.
New words were added to the American vocabulary, such as "hijacking,"
"speakeasy," "home brew," "rum-running,"
and "rum row." America's experiment with Prohibition
strained the country's moral fiber and consolidated the operations
of organized crime.
Initially,
the Coast Guard was at a disadvantage to the 75-foot long, armor-plated,
and low in profile rumrunners. Some had three big Liberty engines
(World War I surplus) capable of attaining speeds of 40 to 50
miles an hour with 1,000 cases of liquor aboard. The motors
could be muffled to a whisper, and devices were carried which
emitted oily smoke when the rumrunners were closely pursued.
Some had double bottoms and false bulkheads to create secret
storage spaces for the pyramid-shaped sacks of liquor. But later,
the Coast Guard began to use some of the Navy's destroyers to
supplement its small fleet of cutters for open-sea patrol and
augmented its small craft fleet with captured rumrunners. These,
designed to outrun the patrol craft, were among the best chase
boats available to the federal agents.
In
December 1929, the Black Duck, skippered by Charles
Travers, and its crew, finally ran out of luck. A patrol vessel
commanded by Alex Cornell (a nautical version of Eliot
Ness) spotted the rumrunner off of Newport, Rhode Island. Attempting
to escape, the Duck zigged when it should have zagged
and caught Coast Guard gunfire broadside, which killed three
crew members. Cornell finally had his boat and 383 cases of
contraband liquor as well. Subsequently, the public was enraged
by the loss of life among their beloved bootleggers. Anti-Coast
Guard riots grew so violent in Boston that the district commander
had to be "spirited" out of town to avoid a lynching.
In the words of Charles Travers, “everybody knew what
we were doing. Hell, we used to moor the Duck in the
slip next to the Coast Guard cutters during the day! We weren’t
exactly friends, but we all knew each other and the rule of
the game were that the Coast Guard had to catch you with the
alcohol on your boat.”
Ironically,
the captured Black Duck was refitted as a Coast Guard patrol
vessel. Even worse, it was assigned to Alex Cornell who successfully
chased down several rumrunners before prohibition ended in 1933.
Occasionally, the legendary smuggler comes alive in the conversations
of a few old-timers here at the bar.
Listen
to them carefully and then raise a toast to the memory of the
Black Duck! |
