Quack . . . Quack Quack . . .

After seven straight days of rain (and more rain), it’s as good a time as any to note (with an elitist’s upturned brow and obvious sneer) that ducks — those truck-boat hybrids seen in other tourism-driven cities — are trying to break into the New York market:

Unlike Boston, Philadelphia, London and dozens of other cities around the world, New York City does not offer tourists the pleasure of paying around $25 to cruise the streets in an amphibious bus, known as a duck, that ends its journey by splashing into the nearest body of water. Manhattan is lacking a crucial ingredient in the recipe for ducks: it has no boat ramps within five miles of Times Square.

New York Waterway, the biggest operator of commuter ferries between the city and New Jersey, hopes to fix that deficiency by building a ramp at Pier 78, at the west end of 38th Street, to accommodate a fleet of buses that float. But first the ferry company has to deal with criticism from competitors and community groups that oppose adding to the cacophony of western Midtown.

Meanwhile, those in charge — or at least the community board in the area — want to move slowly:

The local community board has asked the Army Corps of Engineers to hold a public hearing on the duck ramp before deciding whether to approve it, said John Doswell, co-chairman of the waterfront and parks committee of the board, Manhattan Community Board No. 4.

“Right from the get-go, the concern the board had was yet more traffic in an area we feel has got way too much traffic already,” Mr. Doswell said. As for being invaded by ducks, he said, “It all sounds a little strange, but I guess they figure people will pay money for this experience.”

Indeed, people probably will. Each year, more than one million of them ride the vehicles, encouraged by guides to quack like ducks or blow kazoos as they bounce and bob along.

And just so you know, competition is heating up ahead of any final approval, which could mean — joy of joys — dueling ducks and, presumably, dueling duck calls:

A few entrepreneurs have been studying ways to launch the ducks in Manhattan, and one startup, Big Apple Ducks, is considering hauling tourists from Lower Manhattan to Red Hook, Brooklyn, to plunge into the harbor. Carrie McIndoe, the president of Big Apple Ducks, said the company had bought three amphibious vehicles, called TrolleyBoats, that it hopes to start operating in Manhattan and Brooklyn by the spring.

But Gray Line, which runs dozens of open-top sightseeing buses all over the city, is trying to head off Big Apple Ducks by forming a partnership with New York Waterway. The Imperatore family, which controls the ferry company, would own and operate the ducks, while Gray Line would handle sales and marketing of the tours, said Tom Lewis, president of Gray Line New York.

The Imperatores have ordered eight amphibious buses that could navigate the clogged streets of Manhattan, then roll down the ramp for a quick float in the tricky currents of the Hudson River. Some duck operators use reconditioned military troop carriers that were nicknamed ducks during World War II. (Those boats have had several accidents, and one sank in Arkansas six years ago, killing 13 people.)

Oh, Eees Sooo Hot . . .

The best thing about Jennifer 8. Lee’s story about what may be the hottest September on record is the retro-sounding headline, “Just Try to Remember So Warm a September,” which sounds like a freakin’ Jimmy Walker song. Still, it’s important to stay focused on the fact that it has been hot this month:

Air-conditioners are still blasting. Rooftop bars are still bustling well into the night. Women are still wearing flip-flops and tank tops. Coco Helado street vendors are still scooping with gusto.

The symbolic end-of-the-summer Labor Day weekend passed more than two weeks ago, but as of Monday, the average temperature for September was 75.4 degrees, about 6 degrees above average, according to the National Weather Service. The warmest September on record was in 1961, with an average of 73.6 degrees for the entire month. In particular, the evenings have been about 10 to 15 degrees hotter than normal, said Alan Reppert, a meteorologist with AccuWeather, a private forecasting company. If this trend continues, this September could end up being the record holder, he said.

Ice cream sales are up . . . folks are still getting tanked in garden bars . . . women in flip-flops are still getting their toes stomped on . . . and that all-important summer-economic indicator: Coco Helado vendors are still scooping with gusto! (Go, Jennifer 8. Lee, go!)

That said, seditious talk like this should be stopped. Like now. Idiots:

Brooklyn Industries has introduced down coats and vests in its stores, anticipating an eventual change of seasons.

“It’s the eternal Indian summer,” said Lexy Funk, one of the co-owners. “Right now we are waiting for cool weather. We want to sell our down coats. We’re dreaming of snow.”

Speak for yourself, Jackson!

You’ll Have To Go Sideways

You do realize that New York is also susceptible to hurricanes, don’t you? It’s actually quite frightening:

Two decades have passed since the last significant hurricane hit New York – Gloria, in September 1985 – but local officials have been preparing for another one for years.

A Category 3 hurricane could bring a 25-foot storm surge crashing over the financial district, Kennedy International Airport, southern Brooklyn and eastern Staten Island; inundate dozens of other low-lying areas; and force the evacuation of 400,000 to 2.4 million residents.

. . .

Michael E. Wyllie, the meteorologist in charge of the National Weather Service’s local forecast office, in Upton, on eastern Long Island, said the region was due for a strong hurricane within the next decade, based on a 20- to 30-year hurricane cycle.

“We’re only 10 years into an active, multidecade cycle that will probably last at least another 10 years,” he said. “Most likely we’re going to get hit with something in the next several years, if not this year. Our time is coming. I’m not trying to be an alarmist; I’m trying to be a realist.”

(Dude, the New York Press was freaking us out about this months ago! Well OK, a month ago, but still.)

Detectably Damp?

On one of the hottest days in recent memory — with record-breaking heat — mayoral candidates still have to campaign:

A politician’s lot is not an easy one, especially when the temperature hits a record 99 degrees, as it did yesterday in New York City.

It was the hottest day in the city in four years – whine-worthy enough for anyone venturing outside, especially for politicians locked into long hours, numerous campaign speeches and serial pressing of the flesh.

But none of the major Democratic candidates seeking to become the city’s next mayor were complaining about the weather yesterday.

Campaigning in Queens, C. Virginia Fields, the Manhattan borough president, shrugged off the heat and humidity and said, “It’s a real challenge to be out here, but that’s where the voters are.”

It was the hottest Aug. 13 in Central Park since recordkeeping began in 1869, according to the meteorologists at Pennsylvania State University. At La Guardia Airport, the heat unofficially soared into the triple digits, with a recording of 100 degrees. The humidity made the “real feel” temperature peak around 108.

New York hasn’t been this hot since Aug. 9, 2001, when it was 103 degrees. Moreover, yesterday was the sixth straight day of temperatures of 95 degrees or more. That kind of streak hasn’t happened since 1955, when there were seven such days in a row.

If ability to deal with heat is an indicator of front-runner status, Council Speaker Gifford Miller may be in the lead:

Yesterday, Gifford Miller, the City Council speaker, who is running against Ms. Fields and others for the Democratic nomination for mayor, seemed to recall that tradition as he campaigned in Union Square. Dressed in khaki pants and a long-sleeved blue shirt, he did not appear to be detectably damp.

“I actually don’t mind the heat,” Mr. Miller said. “You know, if you want to be mayor, you have to be able to stand the heat.”

At a later stop at the Whitehall swimming pool in the Riverdale section of the Bronx, Mr. Miller campaigned among swimmers in their 60’s and 70’s, some of whom noticed his perspirationless poise.

Erika Firat, lounging in the cabana, said, “After Nixon’s debate with Kennedy, politicians don’t sweat anymore.”

As for the rest, we learn that C. Virginia Fields dislikes long, sweaty hugs on hot days, Anthony Weiner tans unevenly and Fernando Ferrer would like to jump in a wading pool with a cool Rolling Rock.

Wildly Off-Base Prediction: The Times will endorse Gifford Miller for the September primary.

It’s Hot, But . . .

Sure, it’s hot, but it’s no 1936:

That’s when New York City hit a record high of 106, during a heat wave that lasted several months. Listen to the details: you might even feel a little bit cooler.

The heat wave prompted thousands of sweaty New Yorkers to flee their stifling apartments for spots on park benches or by the ocean at Coney Island and the Rockaways, where they slept at night. Some who left their windows or doors open in hopes of a cool breeze fell victim to burglars.

The “little phantom” robber, who had evaded police capture for five years, filched quarters and half dollars from Long Island homes. The “big phantom” burglar, who came before him, robbed the wealthy.

. . .

In Midtown, crosswalks softened by the heat were dotted with the rubber heels of women who had been caught in the blistered asphalt and tar. On upper Park Avenue, open fire hydrants made pools of water at least six inches deep. In New Jersey, a railroad station chef fried eggs on a pan heated by the sidewalk.

A month into the 1936 heat wave, which hit New York City in May, hysteria erupted at a factory after 75 seamstresses fainted in the heat. Three of the five Harlem River bridges expanded, tying up car and boat traffic for hours. Concrete buckled on state roads in New Jersey, where the heat killed thousands of chickens and was blamed for a fire that drove 40 families into the street, pajama-clad and bleary-eyed.