Algiers Point
It was a cognitive shock to reach the end of Canal Street and then keep on going. That ferry entrance and the resulting boat have been there for a lot longer than I have been going to New Orleans—since 1827, to be exact—yet it took the threat of its demise to get me to cross what I had always perceived to be the end of New Orleans.
I’d asked around for traveling companions to accompany me on an afternoon’s woozy tour through the bars of Algiers Point, and a number of them told me they understood the ferry had already been discontinued, as had the Gretna ferry nearby and the White Castle one just upriver. But there it was, pulling in as I eased onto the ramp. Soon enough, five other cars and a clutch of pedestrians and bicyclists were trundling off into the river, cameras at the ready.
The view of New Orleans from the ferry is like a personal postcard. St. Louis Cathedral looks like it is perched on the river’s edge, teetering to tourist jazz wafting from the Riverwalk. The ride across takes about ten minutes, less time than I usually spend finding a parking spot in the quarter, and with a gentle thump, we were tied up on the other side and disembarking. I’d fully intended to leave my car on the city side of the river; but the last departure from Algiers is 5:45 pm on Sunday (7:45 pm on weekdays), and I could not fathom the public transit conundrum I’d face were I to miss the boat. Back on dry land, I coasted right into a parking spot in front of the Dry Dock Cafe.
The Dry Dock resembles nearly every New Orleans tourist destination—a dining room curled back behind the prominent L of a bar—yet the stools were filled with locals, depositing the heat of the afternoon in a few pints. There was the jocular comparison of who had been coming there the longest—apparently one of the fill-in bartenders had worked there decades before when the building, and some of the patrons, were all called something else. They talked about the plight of the ferry, how a vague “they” don’t know how important it is to the survival of the Point. My shrimp poboy and Abita Lemon Wheat arrived just as the gaggle of patrons was sloughing off back to Sunday afternoon chores.
I had underestimated the travel time of the ferry (it’s much quicker than its counterparts up the river) and set out to walk off that first beer around the neighborhood. Algiers Point is beyond lovely. Brightly painted Victoriana dot the quiet streets, front porches grazing the purple riot of crepe myrtles. It resembles the Garden District, except without the ambient rush of the city always a few blocks away or the jolt of cars slamming into potholes. It struck me that living in Algiers might be like living in New Orleans without having to live in New Orleans.
Algiers Point is, of course, as much New Orleans as any place. Politically, it is the city’s 15th Ward. In 1719, Bienville was granted the land track just across the river from the city he’d founded but a year earlier, making Algiers the second oldest neighborhood in the city. Many of the houses on the Point date to the Civil War, or at least the fire that ravaged the community in 1895. Still standing is the plantation home of the Duverjes family, now the stately riverside courthouse with the looming clock and a cheery sign offering “Marriage certificates - Marriage Ceremonies.”
I was making my way up Bermuda Street in a slow amble to the Old Point Bar when someone shouted, “Come get some gumbo!” I thought it a hallucination, or maybe wishful thinking; but there on the columned porch of a charming yellow house was a large pot and a woman holding a bowl out to me. It was part of a community awareness program called “Visit the Point.”
Chef Richard Bond conducts his Mardi Gras School of Cooking out of this house. Once I cleaned my bowl of his delectable gumbo, I found myself sitting around his massive marble and Brazilian cherry kitchen table (“so hard that nothing bothers it”) with a glass of what his friend called “brown party liquor” in my hand.
We’d been joined by Sally Eastman, who publishes the View from the Point newsletter and is the vice-president of the Ferry Foundation. Like at the Dry Dock, the subject quickly turned back to the impending closure of the ferry and how much the Point needs the ferry.
Algiers Point is just isolated enough now to maintain its sweetness. I passed a number of small businesses—the charming Toute de Suite sandwich shop, a gelato store, a take-out pizza place built into an old gas station—all of which feed into the charm of this sleepy little neighborhood. Cutting off the ferry would likely bleed it dry.
My throat was parched by the time I made it to the venerable Old Point Bar on Patterson Street, so I settled into a beer as singer/songwriter Chip Wilson and his trombonist companion Mark McGrain left their outside table facing the levee to start their gig. The century-old building is festooned with Algiers memorabilia. A carved mermaid hangs from the ceiling in front of a weathered sign for the “Algiers Friendship Ride.”
Locals lined the bar as Wilson launched into a Zachary Richard number, and the room gave off a hazy afternoon glow. I thought of the crowded halls just across the river where tourists were being overcharged into their Bloody Marys and was thankful to be where I was. Wilson stepped into a comfortable rendition of “I’ll Be Glad When You’re Dead, You Rascal You,” a classic by Louis Armstrong, whose statue welcomes visitors coming down the ramp of the ferry.
Speaking of the ferry, my phone beeped telling me I had about forty-five minutes left to get to the landing. As I made a loop through the neighborhood to see what I might’ve missed, I spotted a familiar blue police call booth set up in front of the Crown and Anchor, Algiers Point’s English pub. The BBC was announcing the actor who was to play the latest incarnation of Doctor Who as I sauntered in.
The Crown & Anchor is as legit a pub as I’ve experienced in the U.S. It was smoky, with Guinness and cider on tap and talk of darts and David Bowie mingling in the air. A couple of dogs lounged near the door, and Frankie Goes to Hollywood was on the sound system. They even had Walker’s Tomato Ketchup Crisps, which, accompanied by a half-pint of cider, is an excellent way to kill off a hot summer wait for the ferry.
I wanted to linger, pretending this was my local; but the last sloop to the mainland was approaching. I made the quick jaunt back to the Dry Dock for my car and onto the boat. The ferry was in perfect working order and on time, just when I would’ve welcomed a bit of a delay.
Details. Details. Details. The Old Point Bar 545 Patterson Drive New Orleans, La. (504) 364-0950 The Crown and Anchor 200 Pelican Avenue New Orleans, La. (504) 227-1007 • crownanchorpub.com The Dry Dock Cafe 133 Delaronde Street New Orleans, La. (504) 361-8240 The Mardi Gras School of Cooking 232 Bermuda Street, Suite B New Orleans, La. (504) 362-5225 • themardigrasschoolofcooking.com The Ferry Foundation 525 Pelican Avenue New Orleans, La. (504) 363-9090 theferryfoundation.org Chip Wilson’s website jumpinsomethin.com The current status of the Algiers ferry can be found at dotd.la.gov/ferry or on twitter at @canal_ferry