Two water tunnels have been quenching us since 1917 and 1936, respectively, about 1.2 billion gallons of water daily. But the pipes and valves have seen no repairs since the 1930s--you can’t just off the water to make repairs.

Since the 1970s, when construction began on Water Tunnel No 3, the genormous project designed to save us from catastrophe, sand hogs have feverishly dug twenty five miles of the planned 60, and will finish by 2020. Fourteen miles of tunnel are already in use. Unlike the first two tunnels, Tunnel No 3 has valves in accessible chambers; ergo, if repairs are needed, we won’t need to build Tunnel No 4.

Sand hogs use the same drill machine their European brethren used for The Chunnel between England and France, the difference being that our machine drills deeper—250-800 feet below see level. The monster apparatus was lowered in parts and assembled on the bottom. With it, workers can dig up to 50 feet a day, twice the rate of the old machines.

By the time it’s done, the tunnel will cost $6 billion, the most expensive project in the city’s history—not including the 24 dead sandhogs—smashed by falling rock or crushed by machinery, about two for every mile. Those who survive earn more than 100 grand per year.

-- Kate Broika

Beyond expectation, beyond reason, turns out you can canoe and kayak through the Bronx. The 240,000-year-old Bronx River is making a comeback, thanks to the Bronx River Alliance. We did. Starting in the South Bronx, about 20 yards from the Sheridan Expressay, we paddled through water that stank worse than it actually is. At least that is what Michael Hunter, canoe program coordinater for the alliance, told us. The Alliance has hauled more than 80 abandoned cars and 40,000 tires from the river. And though Hunter doesn’t advise swimming, he says a rich variety of aquatic species--including the sensitive-to-toxins sea anemone--thrive. During the trip, that took us down-river, we worked on our tan, spotted a dying cormorant (fish hook in mouth), a baby crab, tons of floating garbage (including, bizarrely, hundreds of soccer balls), a recycling plant with mountains of discarded refrigerators, an abandoned concrete plant, a new concrete plant, public parks, fishermen, the Hunts Point Market, and, at long last, love (just kidding). Actually, the Long Island Sound. We were within eyeshot of Rikers Island, La Guardia Airport and Shea Stadium, the latter mercifully shrouded in mist. The River was here long before even the Indians made it to the east coast; it will be here long after the Yankees, god willing, rot in hell.

The Bronx River Alliance runs canoe trips every weekend.