http://www.uri.edu/artsci/his/mua/in_the_field/jd1.shtml

The ship lies, today, several meters beneath the street level. Lining the
construction fence on the streets above are hundreds of spectators drawn to
the incongruous spectacle of a ship lying deep in the heart of San
Francisco’s Financial District. Behind them tower the steel and glass of
high rises. Two blocks to the west, its spire half concealed by the fog, the
Transamerica Pyramid marks the long-buried shoreline of the Gold Rush
waterfront.
Watching the high-pressure hose strip away the shroud of mud and sand is
like stepping back in time. The oak planks of the ship’s hull are solid and
the wood bright and fresh. Even more amazing is the stench of burned wood
and sour wine rising from the charred debris.

...

I love it.

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