A little ouchie...

A little ouchie...

A good bit of the Erie Canal is actually the Mohawk River. But after one of the locks today we didn't rejoin the river. Instead we followed an actual canal part of the Erie Canal. It wasn't as narrow, shallow, or overgrown as the Dismal Swamp Canal. But it had its share of prop bending logs floating in it. At one point we motored around a little stump looking thing that could have been nothing much at all. It turned out going around was a really good idea as it was actually a tiny bit of a big chunk of tree fixed solid in the mud. Running over it would likely have had us limping into a marina somewhere for repairs. It is better to be lucky than good.

The actual canal part of the Canal wasn't that long today and, shortly after having missed the tree, we rejoined the Mohawk river. I declared it official. I like rivers. I'm not a big fan of canals. But you have to go where you have to go to get where you want to go.

The day ended at a free dock in a place called “Little Falls.” Our first approach was to a floating dock that looked pretty empty. But as I maneuvered toward that easy touchdown we were informed there were no services on that dock. We needed to move up the river a few hundred feet to tie up to the wall. It isn't as tall a wall as yesterday's wall nor did it have the big rubber permanent fenders installed. And there were a few boats on it already. The only open spot was about 52' long. First Light is 42' long so, lots of room, right? And, actually, it was pretty easy approach since there was neither wind or current complicating the issue. It should have been a no brainer of a parking job. Just when it looked like I had gotten it perfect I let the bow swing in about 1 foot further than I should have. So there is a bit of a white mark on the the wall and a minor ouchie on the hull. You have to look hard to see it. Deb claims it was her fault because she didn't have a fender in the right spot. But I was the one at the helm. So, even though going through 17 locks in the last few days made for a marked improvement in my boat handling skills, it would seem I still have a ways to go. One of the reasons to do new things is to learn new things.

(Ed note: he’s being modest. No way could I have gotten First Light into that spot. He did a great job.)

We are going to spend a couple of nights just to take a bit of a breather. In the last four days we have traveled 129 miles taking a total of 27 hours and 52 minutes. We have cleared 17 locks, anchored once, and been on three different docks. And yes, for the speed demon curious, we averaged 4.6 knots. But that average includes all the time spent in locks, going through 'NO WAKE' zones, and slowing down whenever we are passing small fishing boats, swimmers, (yes swimmers), kayakers, and canoes. The GPS data generally shows that we are actually doing around 7 knots at 1600 rpm when left to our own devices. One of the reasons I think that our fuel pump was going bad long before we saw it leaking is that speed. Before the new pump, we generally showed 6 knots at 1600 rpm and the engines were nowhere near as smooth as they are now.

We have been making what feels like good progress. Something that hasn't been the norm for this trip so far. Even with a little ouchie.

Lock 17, the highest one yet at a 40 foot lift, has a guard gate entrance - the gate lifts up and

You drive under it to get in the lock.

Inside lock 17

40 feet is a long way up

A really nice fireworks display last night in Amsterdam, NY

The Key to Nine Locks

We pulled off the dock and within a few hundred yards were in a lock. Not sure why they call it a “lock”. Maybe the term comes from locking the boat in a giant bathtub. Then filling it up or pulling the plug depending on if you are going up to reach the river level on one side of the dam or going down to river level on the other side of the dam. First Light was going up. And up. And up again and again. We cleared the last of the first five locks of the day less than two hours after leaving the dock. Sometimes we could see the next lock in line almost as soon as we cleared the one we just left. It was an intense way to start a day.

Yesterday we dug out every spare fender we had and rigged the port side of the boat to grind its way up the concrete walls without grinding off fiberglass. Five fenders and one fender board did the trick. The next trick was getting through the open gates and against the wall without looking like a total novice. Though the truth was, when the day started we were total novices at getting a 42' power boat through a lock.

We had a couple of things going our way. The first was that we had all the locks to ourselves. The only lock traffic we saw was two boats waiting to go down as we exited having just come up. In addition, the weather was perfect for the first few locks. Perfect as in no wind. Later the wind picked up.

These locks have ropes hanging down the walls. I would pull the boat up to one line for Deb to grab from the bow. The I would try to swing the stern toward the wall, remember to put both engines in neutral, scamper down the ladder from the flybridge, and grab a line near the stern. Then we would both alternate between pulling the boat back toward the wall and then pushing it away as the inrushing water swirled around, seemingly trying to move the boat in every direction at the same time.

We had read up on the proper procedures to use. One of the warnings repeated over and over again was to never put the ropes on a cleat. But the last few locks that we faced threw in a good amount of wind swirling around along with the water. It was physically impossible to hold the boat in place by just pulling on the rope. So, don't cleat the rope. But run the rope around cleat to add some mechanical advantage. Problem solved.

In addition to the locks we also ran across a "guard gate". A "guard gate" allows the powers that be to isolate a portion of the canal in case of a catastrophic failure of...something. All I know is that one of Lock Tenders had to drive off after we cleared his lock to open the gate for us. Imagine crawling under a guillotine hoping no one trips it at the wrong time.

We saw one other challenge at the locks. Debris. Apparently locks attract logs, branches, and little rafts of assorted propeller damaging junk. The rivers, so far, have been remarkably clear of things to dodge. But the entry and exit from a couple of today's locks involved getting around damage-doing stuff while not banging into the concrete walls lining the entry to the locks. If I do say so myself (And I do) it took some fancy shift / throttle work to get in and out a couple of times. I might be getting the hang of driving this thing.

Shortly after the last lock, we settled in along a “high wall” dock. Never heard of a high wall dock before, but that is exactly what it is. The top of the “dock” is even with our fly bridge. Climb 5 rungs of a steel latter to get off the boat. The wall is well equipped with long, beefy, rubber bumpers and we have three fenders deployed as well. It is okay, but not the kind of dock I would care to be on for very long.

On a completely different subject, right now we are about 130 miles away from the coast south of us, and about 150 miles from the coast east of us. Given that the current hurricane season has just unleashed its first Cat 5 hurricane and did so before July was in full swing? Those two numbers make me smile. There are challenges with being a river boat pilot. There can be lots of traffic, narrow channels, twisty paths that are not always very wide, big boats to work around in close quarters, and locks. The Great Lakes (yet to be transversed) can be as deadly as any ocean. But, all things considered, river travel is far more mellow than is open water sailing. I really do cherish the years we spent on Kintala, and wouldn't trade them away. But if we had retired (the first time) and taken off down the river from St. Louis on America's Great Loop? We know a guy who has done the loop more than 30 times. Around and around and around he goes. I can certainly see the attraction. So far we have seen fabulous vistas, visited interesting towns, and putted long with very little stress and no more at risk than taking a road trip. I'd happily tackle 100 locks rather than a single 0400 foray up to the foredeck to wrestle down a jammed head sail in 20 knot winds on 5 foot seas out in the middle of nowhere. Retirement should be a happy walk at the end of a good life. Not the thing that that kills you. And, so far, this has been a pretty happy walk.

This cop gets to ride his jet ski in the lock several times a day

Two more days....

First Light didn't need to be underway at first light yesterday as the fuel dock didn't open until 0900. For some reason Deb and I were up around 0600 anyway. Habit maybe. Around 1000 the fuel tanks were full, the holding tank was empty, and we were idling down the creek and out into the Hudson once again. As we turned the corner, I looked out to see a river filled with white caps, the winds blowing 20 and a little more. But the waves would be on the bow and what kind of weenie sailor runs and hides in the face of 20 knot winds and 2 foot seas? Besides, for the first part of the day the current would be behind us. Weird in a river right? Until this trip I figured rivers only flowed one way. If it doesn't, it isn't a river. But the Hudson was called “The River that Flows Both Ways” by the Native Americans that lived here when the white dudes showed up. It has a tidal flow so far inland from the New York Harbor as to be near unbelievable.

So we bumped along still making seven plus knots. At one point we were passed by an enormous freighter heading up the river. I never knew those behemoths went up rivers. Big boats on the Mississippi around St. Louis are tugs pushing astonishing numbers of rafted together barges through the water. The freighter wasn't throwing much of a wake. My guess is that they go at a much slower speed up the narrow channel of a river. In any case, it was a painless passing. Passing big boats in small channels is another fresh water  riverboat pilot skill to master.

Mid day we caught up to our friends Nils and Frances in M/V Pivot and were able to do a little photo shoot for them against the Catskills mountains.

The mountains are stunningly beautiful and reminded us so much of the Allegheny mountains from our home state of Pennsylvania.

The last few hours of the trip were a bit slower because the river had turned around and started to flow the other way. We still managed to reach our destination anchorage around 1430. It is described as being the most popular anchorage on the Hudson river. First Light was the only boat there, which was kind of cool. We thought that others might show up before nightfall, though our various river traffic tracking apps don't show any behind us. We are, though not the last, kind of at the end of the line of Loopers heading North. In any case, riding to anchor after a good day's travel in a spot all to one's self? That is a treat that is hard to beat.

This morning we were looking at a short day's travel. We were up and about early anyway, pulling the hook out of the bottom at 0600 once again. Unlike yesterday, there was near zero wind, making for a smooth ride all the way. Today there was a lot of industry along the shore as we putted through Albany. There were “NO WAKE” signs along the way, which seemed kind of silly to me. First Light couldn't make a wake big enough to bother any of the stuff we saw along shore no matter how fast she was going. But we are in no hurry so we slowed down.

At the end of the travel day, we encountered the first of many locks. There was only one other boat ahead of us so it wasn't very crowded. We managed to lock through without leaving a new battle scar on the boat so we have to say It went okay, but from now on we will be setting fenders differently. Just few minutes after following our lock buddy back out into the river, we both swung to port, leaving the Hudson River phase of the trip to take a free dock at the very beginning of the Erie Canal phase of the trip. The next lock is about 200 yards from our bow and is the first of the five locks in a row that they call The Flight of Five because it’s like a flight of five stairs that raises you up over 140 feet. It sounds like a bit of a challenge—more river boat pilot training. Locks and barges and currents...oh my.

There are cool lighthouses everywhere 

The ruins of  a Hudson Ice House

The channel markers are frequently on rocky hillocks like this

The bridge architecture is fascinating 

The industrial waterfront in Albany is massive

Albany, NY

The first lock of many

Entering the Erie Canal

Good visits and more miles...

We spent the day tied to a face dock in Kingston NY in deference to the weather forecasts of possibly intense thunderstorms. It also gave us a chance to meet a long time follower of this blog. And I do mean long time as in almost from the beginning. It turns out there are a few people out there who are nearly as far off of the reservation as I am when it comes to assessing the human family. He took us to dinner last night. Today we visited the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome, home of a fantastic collection of antique airplanes, many still flyable. I have read about the place often but have never been in this part of the country with the opportunity to stop by. It was a lot of fun even if aviation isn't a regular part of my world anymore.

On the way there, we ran into a thunderstorm dumping so much rain that we had to pull off the road for a few minutes, along with pretty much everyone else. Fortunately, the rain cleared and we got to see several of the antiques take to the air. I have flown my share of antique airplanes. Many a time someone would come up and make the statement, “We sure don't build 'em like that anymore.” That is absolutely true, and I know why. Pretty as they are, most of them are ugly excuses for flying machines once they climb away from Mother Earth. The flying characteristics would never pass modern day expectations for stability and ease of handling. The original engines were temperamental and unreliable. Indeed, one of the airplanes that was supposed to be a part of today's show didn't make it into the sky at all. They couldn't get it started.

In addition to treating us to dinner, providing transportation to the Aerodrome, and offering hours of enjoyable conversation, Phil allowed us to have some boat bits shipped to his house. He then made a special trip to the marina to drop them off. It was a really special visit.

Tomorrow the plan for tomorrow is to pop over to a nearby marina to fill up the gas tanks, empty out the holding tank, and continue to follow the river in the general direction of Canada. The weather looks pretty good, so more miles under the keel.

Deb:

We've spent way more time on the dock this trip than we planned or hoped, and out of all the docks that we've stayed on, this one ranks at the very top. Of course I realize that a good part of the pleasantness was the fact that we spent most of our time here with a good friend, but the actual logistics of the dock are fantastic. The Hudson River Maritime Museum has a face dock that will accommodate 3 cruising boats in a very protected creek. It’s a floating dock with power and water, both of which are in excellent condition. The bathrooms and showers are without any question the nicest we’ve had yet and are just a few steps away. The Instacart driver was able to pull right up to the boat, which was great since we were doing a pretty major provisioning run. The Dockmaster, Jim, was incredibly helpful both before and after docking.

The town itself is a cute eclectic little collection of small shops and restaurants on a hill reminiscent of Pittsburgh where we were born. Phil treated us to dinner at Gratziano’s Downtown Cafe, a tiny little place with one cook who turns out the most amazing food. The next morning, we went to Half Moon Rondout Cafe Coffee and Donuts where JT makes your donut to order, producing the most incredible apple cider donuts I’ve ever eaten. We spent some time talking with him—he’s a 32-year vet of the gulf wars who came back to his home town and started the donut shop. His sense of humor was wonderful—when we first came in he told Tim that his expression was way too serious for being in a donut shop. He’s the kind of person that brings happiness wherever he is, a rare commodity especially in a long-time veteran who has seen nightmarish stuff.

I can’t say enough good about this place. It’s been a very restorative two days for me after all the stress of the last year. Thanks Phil for helping to make it that way.