The Dockmaster
No one would talk to us. We were told repeatedly that everyone was under contract with BP to stay quiet. Thus photographs were hard to come by. We met one happy man down from Philadelphia to make his fortune over the summer. He could not have been a nicer guy, talking to us when others wouldn’t. But the only person who would really talk to us even for a minute was the dockmaster.
This man lived on the dock it seemed, smoked cigarettes as he pumped gas into the myriad boats involved in the cleanup process. Contrary to populist rage, the wharfs entire income right now is based on BP. They buy the gas, food, hotels, etc. for a fleet of contracted boats to collect and disperse booms to soak up the oil. This is the dockmaster:
m6 50mm summicron
