Changing Times and Unexpected Pleasures

After cruising on Kintala for six years, it's hard to overstate the difference in the lifestyle that being on a trawler as a Looper is, especially since we've entered the river system. On Kintala—mostly open ocean miles and the occasional ICW stint—life was pretty routine. Passages were long for the most part, and somewhat tedious, and on approaching land we almost never took a dock, choosing to anchor along the way, which was almost always a financially-based decision. On First Light, we've had to take a dock by mechanical necessity far more than we would have liked. But it must be said that the Looper lifestyle is much more about docks and much less about anchoring anyway.

Back when we were on Kintala, before Starlink, anchorages were pretty much a social affair. Dinghies zoomed back and forth between boats, a cooler of beverages and food to share stashed in the bottom. Sundowners lasted till the wee hours in whatever cockpit was large enough to handle whomever had been invited. The crowd was more diverse in age, with young people bringing the energy to the gathering that us older ones lacked. In recent months, we've been hearing reports from full-time cruisers from many different cruising grounds that with the advent of Starlink, those sundowners are rapidly disappearing. Cruisers are choosing to spend the time with a television instead of with each other, a trend that makes me glad that we retired early and got to experience the best of that community before it changed.

Whenever they happen (not often) in the Looper world, sundowners are classed as "docktails". Chairs are brought out to whatever dock happens to be the stop for the night and beverages of various types accompany the telling of stories. Sometimes there are picnic tables along a free wall that are utilized, and less often a trip to a local restaurant provides the venue. For the most part, the travel schedule is pretty relentless on The Loop, so the time after docking is sometimes filled with food shopping and dog walking instead of socializing. As a result, I often feel a bit unmoored and if it weren't for the fact that I'm traveling with my best friend of 52 years I would feel pretty isolated.

One thing that has really helped with the feeling of community has been Nebo, a tracking and chatting app that nearly all Loopers use. It provides incredibly detailed voyage logs so I don't have to do them anymore (They email it to you automatically at the end of every trip and a monthly summary to boot!), and has a chatting platform so you can converse with other Loopers near you. I will probably do a full review post later after we finish the trip but I have to say that it's probably the best $200 we spent in preparing for this trip.

This trip along the inland rivers has also highlighted the impact that climate change and the destruction of natural resources has had on the environment. We have seen much, much less wildlife of any kind on this trip than we did when cruising on Kintala.  Many less dolphins and birds on the ocean passage portion of the trip, and absolutely not a single evidence of wildlife along the Hudson and Mohawk rivers or the Erie Canal. I looked constantly along the shore at the trees that have fallen in the water and where one would expect there to be a line of turtles sunning on the log, there were none. No squirrels, no deer coming for a drink, and only two herons the whole way up the river. The only birds in proliferation were the Canada geese and I'm not entirely certain that there's anything that will kill those things.  To add to that, the history we've learned by stopping at museums along the way has us deeply concerned. There were two whole exhibits at the Hudson River Maritime museum just to address the pollution of the river from the PCBs that General Electric dumped into the river. There are huge signs in the museum warning that you cannot eat any fish you catch in the river. The beautiful Oneida Lake that we just crossed yesterday is the fifth most polluted lake in the United States.

People talk all the time about living in the moment, savoring each experience to the fullest, but after last year I believe we can claim to understand that philosophy in a manner better than most. So, in spite of all the changing times, the true joy for me in this adventure has been the unexpected pleasures we've encountered along the way. The scent of wet pine needles on the Erie Canal, the amazing walking trail in Little Falls, the mountains emerging from the fog, the stunning fireworks display in Amsterdam, the amazingly helpful, knowledgeable, and courteous people that we've met in businesses like Tim in Delaware City and JT in Kingston and Jamie at Lock 17 and Mike here in Phoenix, just to name a few. And the best of all was last night. A bit after six o'clock, a large group of folks started gathering under the pavilion in the park next to the boat carrying instruments of all sorts: wind instruments, brass instruments, percussion instruments...and as they set up an even larger group of town folk began to populate the park with lawn chairs and picnics and much laughter. We had the best seat in the house. Our boat is in the free wall not 50 feet from where the band was playing. I sat in the cockpit with a cold drink and my feet up and enjoyed the music for over two hours. What an absolutely delightful pleasure and so very unexpected. And that, my friends, is what living in the moment is all about.