The hour of doom came and went for Robert Fitzpatrick in Manhattan's Times Square with no earthquake or heavenly rapture, only a large crowd of media, skeptics and believers clamoring around him asking questions and in some instances demanding answers.

Fitzpatrick of Port Richmond had predicted in his self-published book, "The Doomsday Code: God Is Warning Us Through the Bible," based partly on the beliefs of radio evangelist Harold Camping, that the world would end in earthquake yesterday at 5:59 p.m.

"I expected it to happen immediately before 6 p.m.," Fitzpatrick said last night shortly after 6 p.m. outside of the ABC building.

"I'm tired," Fitzpatrick said when asked how he felt.

"I was working hard trying to get the word out. I'm very surprised. I fully expected that something would happen."

"I'm wrong," Fitzpatrick admitted about his May 21 prediction , and he seemed genuinely baffled and confused by the non-event.

"I just don't understand," he said repeatedly. "Everything indicted this was the day and that was the time."

He also said that now he doesn't know what will happen on Oct. 21 when he previously announced that fire would consume the universe.

Fitzpatrick had taken the 4:30 p.m. Staten Island Ferry yesterday to Manhattan and the "R" train uptown, alighting from the Times Square Station at 42nd Street and Seventh Avenue about 10 minutes before the predicted hour of doom.

He walked hurriedly to the ABC building where he was immediately surrounded by hordes of media and regular folks with cell phones and video cameras , recording his every word and move.

Suspense was building in the last few minutes before 6 p.m., with an informal countdown and one woman in the crowd shouting at Fitzpatrick, "Boo, fear monger."

Fitzpatrick handed out a few leaflets and fielded questions. At the fateful hour, he noticeably checked his watch and then read to the crowd from a Bible.

Many in the throng seemed joyously relieved when 6 p.m. came and went with the heavens opening up only for a rain shower.

"It's 6 o'clock we're still alive," hollered Dyan Cahill of Rosebank and the crowd responded with hearty applause.

"I guess we're not saved and neither is this dude," Ms. Cahill added.

Some in the crowd were chanting, "Hell no, we won't go."

Referring to Fitzpatrick, Ms. Cahill said "this crazy loon" was what brought her to Times Square.

"He wasted $140,000 on bus and subway ads," Ms. Cahill said. "How stupid can a person be?

I guarantee he will change his story and say that there was a miscommunication."

Reporters and ordinary folks had many questions, some of them tough and he had few answers.

"Use this opportunity to keep asking God for mercy," Fitzpatrick said.

As the crowd began to dwindle after an hour or so, Fitzpatrick and the media headed for the Times Square subway station.

"We're still stuck on the slow "R" train," he said, heading towards the platform and then closed his eyes in fatigue while seated on the train.

Fitzpatrick followed by a handful of reporters boarded the 7:30 p.m. ferry to Staten Island and he posed for p hotos on the deck with Manhattan in the background as the sun was setting.

He said he doesn't see any point in handing out leaflets anymore and doesn't know what his next move will be in terms of his faith after devoting much time and money over the past of five years to the Doomsday cause.

The graduate of St. Peter's Boys High School and Manhattan College simply planned to head straight home to eat and go to bed after perhaps replying to the numerous phone messages and e-mails, many of which were rendered irrelevant when Doomsday didn't happen.

The bachelor likely won't be spending time with family. He visited his mother, earlier in the afternoon in a Staten Island nursing home, thinking that would be the last time he would see her.