Welcome to Canarsie
The sign wasn't there when I left Canarsie in the late eighties. The pier has been rather renovated since then as it has become part of Gateway National Park, so designated to protect the fragile wetlands that border Jamaica Bay before it wends its way out to the Atlantic. It's not well known how much of Brooklyn borders salt water; we forget that New York truly is an island.
I loved the pier, although my mother was always very nervous about my hanging out there, which was reasonable since it was a very good place to get mugged (but I never was). People used to fish there for food, but the water was so polluted that a lot of the creatures brought up looked like mutants escaped from 1950's science-fiction films. The bay's been well cleaned since then, which is a good thing. We won't discuss driving over there at night when I was a teenager to "watch the submarine races!"
Nice that we have pictures of the Canarsie Indians all over now, considering that they were exterminated long before the town was built on landfill. Well, perhaps some of their descendants are still around. I hope they have some good prime waterfront property, too. The boat basins have become very posh lately.
I love Seattle, but on a hot summer day, I wouldn't mind it if I could be instantaneously transported 3000 miles to my hometown to picnic and fish with the families hanging out on the pier. Hopefully I can still avoid getting mugged.