The floating dump then headed to Louisiana, where it was refused after it sat offshore for three days. On April 24, Mexican officials sent their navy to the Yucatan Channel to prevent the 'garbage' from entering Mexican waters. Three days later, it was rejected in Belize, British Honduras. With nowhere to go, the MOBRO headed back to New York City, where Lowell Harrelson, the man who owned the garbage, felt sure he could reach an agreement with local officials for disposal of the trash.

What Harrelson encountered instead was the wrath and determination of Claire Shulman, who refused to let the garbage travel by truck through the streets of Queens. Harrison would later jokingly compare Shulman's determination to a 'few dozen Mexican navies.'

Queens' feisty first lady wasted no time seeking action by the courts to prohibit the MOBRO from anchoring off Queens so that its contents could be trucked across the borough to Islip, Long Island.

Borough President Claire Shulman speaks before a mass of microphones after winning her battle to stop transport of trash on the 'garbarge' through Queens. (L-R front) Nick Garaufis (now a federal judge), Shulman and (back) Lowell Harrelson (center) huddles with his attorneys.

Shulman said she and her then counsel Nick Garaufis, the 'man around' that Friday afternoon went, 'looking for a judge to issue a restraining order.

'I didn't want the garbage in Queens, since I had no idea what was in it,' she said.

The pair found a judge — Supreme Court Justice Linakos (now retired), 'who was at home cleaning her closets,' Shulman said.

'She is my heroine,' Shulman continued, 'she issued a temporary restraining order which we served by hand that same day.'

Queens Supreme Court Justice Angelo Graci ruled in May that the garbage would have to remain at sea. The MOBRO anchored off Gravesend Bay, Brooklyn, where it would remain until its final disposition — months later.

By June 1987, the garbage had been refused by six states, three countries and Claire Shulman.

Harrelson aired his concern over the cost of the fiasco-at-sea. 'Every meter I know of is running on my money,' he said. Harrelson claimed his out-of-pocket expenses had escalated to more than $5,000 per day by early June 1987.

The barge fueled a display of political fireworks in June, as Shulman battled Islip Town supervisor Frank Jones, who aired his frustration at Shulman's continued success in keeping the garbage from being trucked through Queens for burial at an Islip dump.

Shulman refused to budge, claiming her primary concern was for the people of Queens.

'We need a clear plan explaining where and how the garbage will go,' Shulman said. 'We cannot allow this garbage to sit on Newtown Creek to rot all summer long.

'We must have assurances that this garbage will be moved immediately should permission be granted for it to dock.'

By mid-June, Harrelson had lined up three companies with more than 32 flatbed trucks to transport the garbage to Islip. He agreed to the cost of the transport, but balked at laying out a $40-per-ton 'tipping fee' which would have set him back an additional $20,000.

The 'Donahue Show' hosted Shulman, Jones and Harrelson in June, in a discussion of what Phil Donahue termed 'the most famous 3,000 tons of garbage in the history of the universe.'

Harrelson quipped that he 'averaged over 30 calls per day with suggestions' on what to do with the garbage.

'One man from south Texas suggested I buy armadillos — a couple hundred would eat that garbage right up,' Harrelson said jokingly.

In June, Jones went on his own rampage, withdrawing Islip's offer to accept all of the garbage, and blasting Shulman for putting the brakes on the 'truck-trek' through Queens. Jones threatened to accept only 1,200 tons of the garbage, abandoning 1,900 tons of the trash.

'We understand Shulman's concern, but we are tired of being involved in New York City's problems,' Jones said. He attacked Shulman, Mayor Ed Koch and the city.

The bickering continued through June, as the MOBRO sat in 95-degree temperatures on its 74th day of 'abandonment.'

Harrelson's request for a permit to use the Edgemere Landfill in Queens as a site for the garbage was denied by the state. Edgemere was backed by Jones, who continued to issue derogatory comments about Queens and New York City.

Shulman said she would 'refuse to get into an exchange with Jones,' as she and her aides stood on the steps of Queens Borough Hall to announce their victory in the courts. The Queens Borough president had stood firm and foiled efforts by others who planned to haul the garbage through Queens.

'When Nick and I walked out of court after we had won the final challenge, there were all these cameras and reporters on the courthouse steps,' Shulman recalled.

'I turned to Nick and said, 'something important must be going on here,' Shulman said. 'Nick turned to me and said, 'It's us!?'

'She stopped them in their tracks,' said former NYC Department of Sanitation spokesman Vito Turso.

The tug 'Break of Dawn' made its last trip with the MOBRO barge in early July, when the barge was granted a federal anchorage site on the New Jersey side of the Hudson River, just north of the George Washington Bridge.

The tugboat then headed for repairs in Bayonne, N.J. It was back home to New Orleans then, as the MOBRO marked its 100th day at sea.

Environmental groups from New York City and State moved the court battle to Hauppague, L.I. in July, where they asked a State Supreme Court to ban any dumping of trash from the MOBRO at the Islip landfill. The groups charged that toxins from the garbage would contaminate the environment at the site.

Another court challenge began in Brooklyn in July. Borough President Howard Golden began a new chapter in the barge fiasco when he asked the court to decide if the garbage would remain trash or be turned into ash.

Golden challenged the city and state, which announced plans to burn the garbage at the Southwest Incinerator and bury the remaining ash at the Islip landfill.

Despite the court action, city officials began a dredging project in preparation for the barge's arrival at the Brooklyn incinerator.

The court challenges ended, along with the saga of the MOBRO barge, in September. The city's Department of Sanitation worked out a deal with the Town of Islip, where managers agreed to accept ash from the garbage after it was incinerated at the Brooklyn plant.

The city managed, as part of the deal, to arrange for its compensation for use of the incinerator and for renovation and refitting of the incinerator that enabled it to accept the garbage when it was off-loaded from the barge.

Finally free of the garbage, the MOBRO chugged away from the Brooklyn shoreline in October of 1987, headed for a 'thorough scrubbing' and a new set of challenges, the barge owners said.