I moved my boat to its new home, at the Inwood Canoe Club. I'd been planning this for a while, since I moved to a neighborhood much closer to Inwood. While I plan to continue volunteering with the Downtown Boathouse, the access issues within the Hudson River Park Trust, along with the friends I've made uptown, clinched the deal. Last Sunday, I met one of the few people who has keys to Pier 96, and with his help pulled the Argonaut down to launch.
It was a beautiful day. The tide was going in the right direction, and the skies were sunny. A moderate breeze kept things cool; being late April, the water was still cold, a scotche over 50 F. I wore my drysuit and had my self-rescue gear. MH, my canoe friend, was paddling down to meet me. He was coming against the current, so we figured we'd meet about halfway.
This is a familiar trail to me, one I trod plenty of times last summer. I kept to the Manhattan side, and not too far out in the channel, so as to spot MH, who I knew would keep close to shore. I rounded out from Pier 96, past the pedestrian pier, the Boat Basin, and onwards. Somewhere between the north end of the mooring field and 125th street, I met up with MH, and we paddled up past further landmarks: Riverbank State Park, the Little Red Lighthouse, and in the distance, the Cloisters.
The Argonaut is safely tucked away in its new home. It's a funny feeling, realizing you're home, and not just a guest, and not just stashing your boat for a later trip to a farther destination. I've gotten to know some of the waters uptown well over the winter, paddling club boats. Now, I'll be in my own.
Nothing beats being in your own boat. If nothing else, you don't have to worry about someone else adjusting the foot pegs.
Showing posts with label downtown boathouse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label downtown boathouse. Show all posts
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Sandy
A hurricane - wait, it wasn't, it was a large storm - whatever it was, Sandy hit New York City last week. More accurately, it made landfall on the eastern seaboard, devastating beach communities in New Jersey, Staten Island, and Long Island. Power was knocked out for millions in the region, and massive flooding drowned lower Manhattan to a level where some buildings won't be usable for weeks.
Relevant to this blog, the flooding came up very high at both of the boathouses I paddle out of. At Pier 96, the water came into the boathouse to about four feet high, depositing a thin layer of mud on the concrete floor. At Inwood Canoe Club, the water came up higher because the boathouse sits lower. The flooding lifted the launch dock higher than the main dock, and swept away portions of the retaining wall that holds dirt onto the island.
In both cases, the clubs had taken measures to lift everything up high that had to be and could be. Paddles, floats, papers, electronics - everything went up or went away. fiberglass boats were lifted to at least four feet off the ground. I'm happy to say the Argonaut, ten feet up and as high as could be, survived without incident. the only damage, such as it was, was mostly cosmetic to the boathouses. In the case of Pier 96, the Hudson River Park Trust is tackling the major repairs, and at Inwood, the club is putting together a plan to replace lost soil, repair the walls, and clean the place up.
In both cases, work days after the storm cleared away the detritus that washed in, and through out the wreckage of what was left. The boathouses are in good shape, though there is still work to be done at each.
This is all a long way of saying I haven't been out on the water recently. There is a possibility of getting out this weekend, but following the storm, there was a sudden drop in temperature, and as the weeks roll by, we'll soon be in drysuit-only season.
But fear not! The cowgirl has prepared for this contingency, and if she's not out paddling, she'll be blogging, and writing down kayak-related thoughts that she hasn't had time for in the regular paddling season.
Relevant to this blog, the flooding came up very high at both of the boathouses I paddle out of. At Pier 96, the water came into the boathouse to about four feet high, depositing a thin layer of mud on the concrete floor. At Inwood Canoe Club, the water came up higher because the boathouse sits lower. The flooding lifted the launch dock higher than the main dock, and swept away portions of the retaining wall that holds dirt onto the island.
In both cases, the clubs had taken measures to lift everything up high that had to be and could be. Paddles, floats, papers, electronics - everything went up or went away. fiberglass boats were lifted to at least four feet off the ground. I'm happy to say the Argonaut, ten feet up and as high as could be, survived without incident. the only damage, such as it was, was mostly cosmetic to the boathouses. In the case of Pier 96, the Hudson River Park Trust is tackling the major repairs, and at Inwood, the club is putting together a plan to replace lost soil, repair the walls, and clean the place up.
In both cases, work days after the storm cleared away the detritus that washed in, and through out the wreckage of what was left. The boathouses are in good shape, though there is still work to be done at each.
This is all a long way of saying I haven't been out on the water recently. There is a possibility of getting out this weekend, but following the storm, there was a sudden drop in temperature, and as the weeks roll by, we'll soon be in drysuit-only season.
But fear not! The cowgirl has prepared for this contingency, and if she's not out paddling, she'll be blogging, and writing down kayak-related thoughts that she hasn't had time for in the regular paddling season.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Peter Sharp Group Paddle
I had an idea to paddle to Peter Sharp again, or at least to points north. We're also at the end of the season, not long before the combination of water and air temperature drops below the threshold for more specialized protective gear. I've already been paddling with my paddling jacket lately, and planned to start using my wetsuit soon. So, I thought it might be a good idea to invite some other people along, just to make sure I'm not out all by my lonesome, just in case something bad happens.
After sending out a group invite, I had two takers: MA and DS, both experienced paddlers. These ladies are getting up in their years but they are strong, and can paddle long. They'd be great companions.
I ought to mention that this was just a couple of days before a tropical storm was to hit New York City, or at least the eastern seaboard. TS Sandy, aka the "frankenstorm" was floating somewhere off the coast of Georgia, so we figured this would be the last day we could safely paddle before the storm hit.
We set off early, around 820, to catch as much tide as we could. The skies were gray and cloudy, but temperatures were not bad - about 60 F for both air and water. We passed some barges parked in the river - as well as one moving south, unusually, on the Manhattan side. There is a large charted shipping channel on the New Jersey side of the river. I don't really ever seeing a barge that big, that far north, on the east side of the river. We paddled further out into the middle of the river to pass it on our left.
By now, this route is familiar, old hat, dare I say routine, keeping in mind that no day on the water is ever routine (see above paragraph about the barge). However, the paddle north was pretty straightforward: we passed Fairway, Riverbank State Park, Inwood Canoe Club, and passed under the railroad bridge to take a short break in a cove at Spuyten Duyvil.
I tried getting close to a flock of geese in the water.
At this point, the current picked up against us. Water was flowing out of the Harlem and into the Hudson. While it wasn't bad at first, it did become progressively harder, and as we slowed down, we tucked in to the shore, where the current is less strong.
We passed some crew boats, presumably from Columbia University. Later, near Peter Sharp, we spotte some people on the Bronx side of the river dismantling their dock. It was the Harlem River Rowing Club, a non-profit focused on rowing, based out of (I believe) Roberto Clemente Park. They were dismantling their dock in anticipation of TS Sandy.
We landed at Swindler's Cove - a small beach that is part of the park near Peter Sharp. Peter Sharp was in use, and in any case, the bathrooms are in the park - although this day we would learn that they were out of order, leading us to use some more dismal portable facilities about a five minute walk away.
Some volunteers were weeding and rep-planting. We sat at a picnic table and ate our lunch. I had one of my civilian MREs - Creamy Chicken Tetrazini, which was actually quite good.
Because we'd run into current coming in, our stay was foreshortened, and we left about an hour after we landed. Now, we had the current with us, not only in the Harlem but on the way back. We were passing under the George Washington Bridge just before maximum ebb. To give you an idea of the difference this made, it took us three hours and fifteen minutes to get to Peter Sharp, but only about two hours to get back.
One the way back, we stopped to take pictures in front of the autumnal foliage. Between the Palisades on one side, and Washington Park on the other, there were ample instances of yellow, red, and even green leaves, against a somber gray sky, with just enough sunlight to bring out the colors.
We also stopped briefly at Inwood to say hi to some of my friends there, who were working on the dock, upgrading the flotation. They warned me not to linger, lest I get pressed into service.
As we rocketed back, I realized we were going to want o get in close to the shore well before we got to Pier 96, or else the current would carry us past it. As it was, we ended up making a sort of ferry crossing in - paddling straight at the shore while the current carried us down. Along the way, we saw a fish jump out of the water - a big one two, about 15 inches long as far as we could tell. He made it a good foot or so out of the water, and I scared one of my co-workers, because I yelped "fish!" right as I was turning to check on our other paddle-mate. I wish I'd gotten a picture, but fish are pretty unpredictable.
This was a good trip - a nice distance, a bit of a challenge on the current, and for some, possibly the last paddle of the season. While it's a familiar trip by now, it is by no means routine. It's definitely one I'll keep in my back pocket as a sort of extended trip to invite others on.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Shop
Today I paddled from Pier 96 down to Pier 40 - that's about 56th street to Houston street on the Hudson river. I got a line on a guy at New York Kayak Company who might be able to mend a bonk on the nose that the Argonaut suffered a few months ago, and today I was finally able to connect my schedule to his.
Weather was alright - in fact Saturday turned out to be a pretty amazing day, considering it's October, and the weather earlier and later in the week has not nor is it predicted to be terribly charming. Water temperature is still in the high sixties, as is the air. I let early in order to get good current south, though a steady breeze encouraged me to put on my paddling jacket.
Normally, paddling south out of the embayment at Pier 96 requires heading out a bit into the channel, due to a 100 yard security zone behind the cruise ship terminals just below 96. While I was heading out there anyway, I saw an NYPD boat and what I thought was and FDNY boat. Now, I knew there were some events in the harbor this week, but I had only vague ideas of what they were. I wasn't surprised to see these guys, but I wasn't sure what exactly they were there for.
well, one of the boats came closer, and turned out to be a USCG boat. I Sometimes they just buzz by, but these guys were coming to me, so I signalled I was stopping, and then maneuvered to stay steady in the water.
"Where are you heading," asked the nice, young, well-armed man.
"Pier 40," I said.
He explained there was a 500 yard security zone at Pier 80, due to a Navy vessel berthed there. Now I remembered something about some US Navy ship coming to NYC, but I guess I'd thought it was going to stay in the harbor.
Now, the cowgirl has some acquaintances who bristle at authority, even well-armed authority, telling them what to do, and the cowgirl has some other acquaintances to whom large calibre automatic firearms are moderately intimidating. However, having grown up military, the cowgirl knows these guys are just doing their job, and bears no grudge. She learned a long time ago how to talk to soldiers on guard duty.
After figuring our where Pier 40 was ("Houston Street!" I hollered), they said they'd let me through but would shadow me. Fine. I figure they were a little bored, early in the morning, no one on the water except some chick in an eighteen foot kayak. Once we were at the end of the security zone, they signalled and I paddled on my way.
Shortly after that, I approached a ferry terminal near 38th street (I think). There was a ferry backing out. I came to a stop and raised my paddle. He did a weird three point turn, saw me, and headed out. I caught some pretty amazing surf off his wake, but just a couple of decent waves.
Making my way down, I passed Pier 66, home of Manhattan Kayak Company, New York Kayak Polo, and New York Outrigger. It's next door to the Frying Pan restaurant, a great place for a burger along with a nice view of the river.
By then, the blowers for the Holland tunnel were in sight, just below Pier 40. Pier 40 itself is a large building, so large that it tends to blend in as part of the shoreline - until you realize how far out from the waterfront it sticks.
It took about forty-five minutes to travel 56 blocks - not accounting for the extra time spent talking to the Coast Guard. I was early, but I saw the Downtown Boathouse's Houston Street program getting started. I pulled in and talked to the guys. A gust of weird blew a sun umbrella clean off its post, landing in the water upside down. Took some doing, but one of the guys managed to wrangle it back in using a sit-on-top kayak and some interesting paddling techniques.
A little while later I met up with the guy at NYKC. Good news is, he said it didn't look nearly as bad as my photos made it look, and he gave me several options, including one quite a bit cheap than what I'd been expecting. That repair will be a whole 'nother story. Once we settled on a deal, I looked around the shop and tried on some drysuits - also a different story - and went on my merry way.
Part two will come later this week after I pick up my boat. Stay tuned.
Weather was alright - in fact Saturday turned out to be a pretty amazing day, considering it's October, and the weather earlier and later in the week has not nor is it predicted to be terribly charming. Water temperature is still in the high sixties, as is the air. I let early in order to get good current south, though a steady breeze encouraged me to put on my paddling jacket.
Normally, paddling south out of the embayment at Pier 96 requires heading out a bit into the channel, due to a 100 yard security zone behind the cruise ship terminals just below 96. While I was heading out there anyway, I saw an NYPD boat and what I thought was and FDNY boat. Now, I knew there were some events in the harbor this week, but I had only vague ideas of what they were. I wasn't surprised to see these guys, but I wasn't sure what exactly they were there for.
well, one of the boats came closer, and turned out to be a USCG boat. I Sometimes they just buzz by, but these guys were coming to me, so I signalled I was stopping, and then maneuvered to stay steady in the water.
"Where are you heading," asked the nice, young, well-armed man.
"Pier 40," I said.
He explained there was a 500 yard security zone at Pier 80, due to a Navy vessel berthed there. Now I remembered something about some US Navy ship coming to NYC, but I guess I'd thought it was going to stay in the harbor.
Now, the cowgirl has some acquaintances who bristle at authority, even well-armed authority, telling them what to do, and the cowgirl has some other acquaintances to whom large calibre automatic firearms are moderately intimidating. However, having grown up military, the cowgirl knows these guys are just doing their job, and bears no grudge. She learned a long time ago how to talk to soldiers on guard duty.
After figuring our where Pier 40 was ("Houston Street!" I hollered), they said they'd let me through but would shadow me. Fine. I figure they were a little bored, early in the morning, no one on the water except some chick in an eighteen foot kayak. Once we were at the end of the security zone, they signalled and I paddled on my way.
Shortly after that, I approached a ferry terminal near 38th street (I think). There was a ferry backing out. I came to a stop and raised my paddle. He did a weird three point turn, saw me, and headed out. I caught some pretty amazing surf off his wake, but just a couple of decent waves.
Making my way down, I passed Pier 66, home of Manhattan Kayak Company, New York Kayak Polo, and New York Outrigger. It's next door to the Frying Pan restaurant, a great place for a burger along with a nice view of the river.
By then, the blowers for the Holland tunnel were in sight, just below Pier 40. Pier 40 itself is a large building, so large that it tends to blend in as part of the shoreline - until you realize how far out from the waterfront it sticks.
It took about forty-five minutes to travel 56 blocks - not accounting for the extra time spent talking to the Coast Guard. I was early, but I saw the Downtown Boathouse's Houston Street program getting started. I pulled in and talked to the guys. A gust of weird blew a sun umbrella clean off its post, landing in the water upside down. Took some doing, but one of the guys managed to wrangle it back in using a sit-on-top kayak and some interesting paddling techniques.
A little while later I met up with the guy at NYKC. Good news is, he said it didn't look nearly as bad as my photos made it look, and he gave me several options, including one quite a bit cheap than what I'd been expecting. That repair will be a whole 'nother story. Once we settled on a deal, I looked around the shop and tried on some drysuits - also a different story - and went on my merry way.
Part two will come later this week after I pick up my boat. Stay tuned.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Downstream
Not much to report paddle-wise lately. The Inwood Canoe Club held its annual end-of-season dinner and announced a newly-elected board. Cowgirl is pleased to report new Commodore, Treasurer, and Vice Commodore of the club, Janet Handy, Alexandria Woods, and Steve Harris respectively.
I paddled the Argonaut down to its regular home at Pier 96 - recall that I paddled up for swim support last weekend, then kept it up there for that Bronx Kill trip. Weather today was predicted to be cloudy and rainy, but it turned out to be a nice day. A stiff wind prompted me to pull out my paddling jacket, and I'm glad I did; I might have made it without the jacket, but I would have been cold and probably a little miserable without it. Steady wind blowing against the current made the trip feel more difficult than it was, but also granted the cowgirl a few nice waves to womp over. Altogether, leaving near the end of slack put me at Pier 96 in abou an hour and a half.
There, I caught up with friends at the Downtown Boathouse. What struck me was how quickly my sense of location changed. Having kept my boat in Inwood for a week. My mind was firmly planted in terms of where I might paddle from there. Port Liberte seemed far, for example. Yet, down at Pier 96, suddenly everything farther south seems do-able - Hoboken, Morris Canal, Pier 40, and so on. While I've got familiar with that stretch of trail, it's still amazing to me how much variety there is in conditions and destinations all along the waterfront.
I paddled the Argonaut down to its regular home at Pier 96 - recall that I paddled up for swim support last weekend, then kept it up there for that Bronx Kill trip. Weather today was predicted to be cloudy and rainy, but it turned out to be a nice day. A stiff wind prompted me to pull out my paddling jacket, and I'm glad I did; I might have made it without the jacket, but I would have been cold and probably a little miserable without it. Steady wind blowing against the current made the trip feel more difficult than it was, but also granted the cowgirl a few nice waves to womp over. Altogether, leaving near the end of slack put me at Pier 96 in abou an hour and a half.
There, I caught up with friends at the Downtown Boathouse. What struck me was how quickly my sense of location changed. Having kept my boat in Inwood for a week. My mind was firmly planted in terms of where I might paddle from there. Port Liberte seemed far, for example. Yet, down at Pier 96, suddenly everything farther south seems do-able - Hoboken, Morris Canal, Pier 40, and so on. While I've got familiar with that stretch of trail, it's still amazing to me how much variety there is in conditions and destinations all along the waterfront.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
The Beginning and the End
Today was meant to be an "off" day - a day for chores, rest, and catching up on little things around the house. It was all that, but the cowgirl managed to start and end her day with some paddling.
First came an invite from KM at the Inwood Canoe Club. KM often heads in early on Saturday mornings and invites others to come along, and today I joined him. We paddled north, with a bit of a headwind against incoming current, but once past Spuyten Duyvil and into the Harlem, we had a pleasant, quite paddle over to Peter Sharp Boathouse. Along the way we observed some sort of Crew event being run by Fordham out of Peter Sharp, and on the way back we saw some Columbia Crew boats out practicing. For those who want to know, we were both in plastic boats, KM in a Necky Manitou, and I was in a Necky Looksha IV.
After that, I came home and did chores, watched telly . . .and then my inbox brought an email from RH, a good paddling friend from the Downtown Boathouse. She's leaving for graduate school next week and wanted to squeeze one more paddle in. I said yes and got my gear together to head on down to Pier 96.
Conditions - primarily the wind - were worrisome. It was blowing something fierce as I walked down the hill to the waterfront, and changed direction to come mostly from the north. We almost called it off, but then the wind dropped a bit, and five of us went out - RH, myself, CL, LA, and DW, paddling a variety of boats - I was back in the Argonaut. The wind picked up a bit, and weathercocked us some, but we managed to make it up to about 96th street (about 40 blocks) before deciding to turn around. The tide was coming in, so the farther we went, it would be even more difficult to go back.
Because the wind was blowing against the current, we got what I've come to call "cartoon waves" or "tom and jerry waves", which I've described before. Basically, a wave comes up behind you, and is moving faster than you. It's like in a cartoon where a cat snaps a rug to bounce a fleeing mouse. We kept close to shore, and managed to avoid the effect near things that block current, but did have to deal with it in the channel.
The sunset was beautiful. As we came back, we saw huge plumes of clouds fanning out over the harbor, with clear skies to our right. The sun set and backlit the skyline, while too our left the Manhattan skyline faded to an indigo blue. The Empire State Building lit up in green and white
We landed and brought in our boats, and said our goodbyes to RH. She'll be back, but she's been integral to the functioning of the boathouse this season; she will be missed while she's away.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite
The cowgirl took off Friday from the day job in order to paddle to Liberty State Park with some friends. It was time off well spent.
Altogether we were ten paddlers, mostly women, all experienced in paddling around NYC waterways.
It was a beautiful day, with little wind. The only complaints we could muster would be that it was muggy on the way out, with a light haze draping everything in the distance.
We set out from Pier 96 and began crossing the river. With strong current southbound, we stay in the channel, avoiding ferry paths. I had a bit of a surprise when I paddled closer to shore and came around a blind corner to see a ferry poised to leave, but after some hand waving, worked out with the pilot letting me drift past him before he left. After that, it was a pretty smooth ride down the New Jersey side, past Maxwell Cove, past dry docks in Hoboken, past the Goldman Sachs building and Morris Canal.
At this point I took a picture of E in her Necky Elaho.
Morris canal is a waterway that runs between the northern edge of Liberty State Park and Jersey City, with Liberty Marina tucked in far behind. Once past Morris, you're practically at Ellis Island. Here, C looks out ahead. The building is on Ellis Island, and farther south, you can make out Lady Liberty.
We paddled past Ellis, and on in front of Liberty, where I took several photos like this one., with B, S, D, and R lined up in front of Lady Liberty.
Once past and below Liberty Island, we headed west into a large bay below Liberty State Park. From here, we could make out everything from Jersey City to Lower Manhattan. Here's the cowgirl, with Goldman Sachs in the background on the left, and the Freedom tower poking over her head on the right. Make of that what you will.
On the far end of the bay is a housing development called Port Liberte. While it's private property, it's a pretty site to look at, and a few people decided to take a look. Here, S and D paddle towards the restaurant at the waterway entrance.
From the entrance, looking behind us, we could barely make out the Verranzano Bridge through the haze, in the distance.
After hovering around the entrance, we paddled back to meet our friends who had landed at Liberty already. ALong the way, we came across one dead crab. . .
And then the shell of another - only this second one was a beautiful horseshoe crab shell.
This being the second time I was down in the harbor this summer, I have to say this view of Lower Manhattan is becoming familiar - especially as the Freedom Tower continues to climb.
On the way back, the wind picked up a bit, and conditions were more interesting. That's OK, because the lil' buddy was up on the deck.
We spent about an hour and a half layover at Liberty State Park - following a group of sit-on-top kayaks run as a program by Liberty State Park to a small beach landing. From there, we walked over to a picnic area and had lunch in the shade, making use of the facilities and taking pictures of ourselves and the gorgeous views from this little vantage point. I had most of an Apack MRE, skipping the cookie and candy, since it was a short enough paddled that I didn't need all 1300+ calories.
On the way back, we passed behind Liberty Island - it's less traffic, and a bit more intuitive of a paddle. That being said, it's an area an old coach of mine called "the washing machine" because the collision of currents and topography results in waves coming from all directions. We all managed to get through without any trouble, but in part by keeping ready for a high brace to either side of the boat.
As we came up on Ellis Island, we passed one barge, and could see another one approaching behind us. A small boat motored up to our main element, and then up to the lead elements. We were worried that it was Coast Guard or some other law enforcement, perhaps that someone had violated the security zone around Liberty but no - the small boat was a pilot (or harbinger, perhaps) of the barge, letting us know where the barge was headed. We got out of its way and kept moving up the main channel while the barge - loaded with a crane and two truck-mounted cement mixers - went into Morris Canal.
We paddled up - the current fully with us now, until about 38th street, when we performed a ferry crossing - moving laterally and letting the current carry us up the river. It's an odd side, moving straightforward, but watching the cityscape move sideways. We paddled straight into the embayment at Pier 96. Altogether it was about a six-hour trip, of which only four were paddling. As day trips go, it was just about right.
While I like to do lessons learned, it's hard to pick anything outstanding here. In medium and large groups, trips typically break into smaller groups, with a fast group and a slower group. That is exactly what happened here, and while it's good to keep a group together for the sake of visibility and safety, having smaller subgroups doesn't hurt.
For long expeditions - especially in any kind of conditions - sea kayaks are a must. One paddler was in a sit-on-top, an Ocean model Prowler. This model has a good prow, which helps cut through waves, but is otherwise a very wide boat that gets bounced around in conditions like "the washing machine". This isn't bad in itself, but it did slow the boat down.
Update: took a gander at Google Maps, and re-constructed our voyage approximately as follows:
Altogether we were ten paddlers, mostly women, all experienced in paddling around NYC waterways.
It was a beautiful day, with little wind. The only complaints we could muster would be that it was muggy on the way out, with a light haze draping everything in the distance.
We set out from Pier 96 and began crossing the river. With strong current southbound, we stay in the channel, avoiding ferry paths. I had a bit of a surprise when I paddled closer to shore and came around a blind corner to see a ferry poised to leave, but after some hand waving, worked out with the pilot letting me drift past him before he left. After that, it was a pretty smooth ride down the New Jersey side, past Maxwell Cove, past dry docks in Hoboken, past the Goldman Sachs building and Morris Canal.
At this point I took a picture of E in her Necky Elaho.
Morris canal is a waterway that runs between the northern edge of Liberty State Park and Jersey City, with Liberty Marina tucked in far behind. Once past Morris, you're practically at Ellis Island. Here, C looks out ahead. The building is on Ellis Island, and farther south, you can make out Lady Liberty.
We paddled past Ellis, and on in front of Liberty, where I took several photos like this one., with B, S, D, and R lined up in front of Lady Liberty.
Once past and below Liberty Island, we headed west into a large bay below Liberty State Park. From here, we could make out everything from Jersey City to Lower Manhattan. Here's the cowgirl, with Goldman Sachs in the background on the left, and the Freedom tower poking over her head on the right. Make of that what you will.
On the far end of the bay is a housing development called Port Liberte. While it's private property, it's a pretty site to look at, and a few people decided to take a look. Here, S and D paddle towards the restaurant at the waterway entrance.
From the entrance, looking behind us, we could barely make out the Verranzano Bridge through the haze, in the distance.
After hovering around the entrance, we paddled back to meet our friends who had landed at Liberty already. ALong the way, we came across one dead crab. . .
And then the shell of another - only this second one was a beautiful horseshoe crab shell.
This being the second time I was down in the harbor this summer, I have to say this view of Lower Manhattan is becoming familiar - especially as the Freedom Tower continues to climb.
On the way back, the wind picked up a bit, and conditions were more interesting. That's OK, because the lil' buddy was up on the deck.
We spent about an hour and a half layover at Liberty State Park - following a group of sit-on-top kayaks run as a program by Liberty State Park to a small beach landing. From there, we walked over to a picnic area and had lunch in the shade, making use of the facilities and taking pictures of ourselves and the gorgeous views from this little vantage point. I had most of an Apack MRE, skipping the cookie and candy, since it was a short enough paddled that I didn't need all 1300+ calories.
On the way back, we passed behind Liberty Island - it's less traffic, and a bit more intuitive of a paddle. That being said, it's an area an old coach of mine called "the washing machine" because the collision of currents and topography results in waves coming from all directions. We all managed to get through without any trouble, but in part by keeping ready for a high brace to either side of the boat.
As we came up on Ellis Island, we passed one barge, and could see another one approaching behind us. A small boat motored up to our main element, and then up to the lead elements. We were worried that it was Coast Guard or some other law enforcement, perhaps that someone had violated the security zone around Liberty but no - the small boat was a pilot (or harbinger, perhaps) of the barge, letting us know where the barge was headed. We got out of its way and kept moving up the main channel while the barge - loaded with a crane and two truck-mounted cement mixers - went into Morris Canal.
We paddled up - the current fully with us now, until about 38th street, when we performed a ferry crossing - moving laterally and letting the current carry us up the river. It's an odd side, moving straightforward, but watching the cityscape move sideways. We paddled straight into the embayment at Pier 96. Altogether it was about a six-hour trip, of which only four were paddling. As day trips go, it was just about right.
While I like to do lessons learned, it's hard to pick anything outstanding here. In medium and large groups, trips typically break into smaller groups, with a fast group and a slower group. That is exactly what happened here, and while it's good to keep a group together for the sake of visibility and safety, having smaller subgroups doesn't hurt.
For long expeditions - especially in any kind of conditions - sea kayaks are a must. One paddler was in a sit-on-top, an Ocean model Prowler. This model has a good prow, which helps cut through waves, but is otherwise a very wide boat that gets bounced around in conditions like "the washing machine". This isn't bad in itself, but it did slow the boat down.
Update: took a gander at Google Maps, and re-constructed our voyage approximately as follows:
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Draft Horse
More to come. The cowgirl couldn't wait to get some footage of herself trying out a Stand-up Paddleboard (SUP) today.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Leading the Public
Sunday morning, I co-led a public trip with MD. Helping us were S, E, and Sa (two guys with the same name starting with S). It was E's first public trip.
Public trips are one of the free programs the Downtown Boathouse (DTBH) operates. Basically, Saturday and Sunday mornings in the summer we will take a group of the "public" - walk-up participants - on a trip up or down the river. The usual requirements of an ability to swim and signing a waiver are in place, and it is strongly recommended people paddle in the embayment a few times to get used to the boat. We take half a dozen single-seat boats and four double-seat boats and come back in three hours or so.
On this trip we opted for Mitsuwa, the Japanese supermarket in Fort Lee. We would run out of current by the time we got there, wait a bit, then come back with current.
The day was incredibly muggy. Hot, sticky, and overcast to boot. There were predictions of scattered showers, up to 50% chance of rain. Rain isn't an issue, but lightning is.
We got the public situated - a series of steps that are long and boring to describe. Basically, we usually can't take everyone. We give them a brief primer on the trip, test their abilities in the embayment, and kick out anyone who might be problematic. We didn't kick anyone out.
In this case, we gave the benefit of doubt to a mother-daughter pairing in a double. The mom was OK, but the daughter was kind of useless. We guessed she was being dragged along on a Bonding Experience. To be fair, once we got underway, after quite a bit of at-sea coaching, they were able to make headway, but it took them a while, and we had to keep an eye on them.
Public trips are where I most feel like a kayak cowgirl. We shepherd the public along, making sure they stay where it's safe, herding them from one point to another. They're slower than the typical pace of an experienced group - lots of time figuratively gripping the pommel, reins in hand - move along, little doggies, move along.
We made our way north past now-familiar landmarks - Pier I, the Boat Basin, the mooring field. We stopped for a water twice before even crossing the weather - the heat and humidity were just draining us in our exertions. We lined up around 96th street, and then crossed the river, where we took water again and then headed north.
We stopped again to let people catch up. By then, the current was starting to turn, and the weaker paddlers were getting strung out. As we got underway, after some effort, the mother-daughter team had tone towed by two volunteers. They had done well, but against the current was too much for them.
We landed at Mitsuwa. The first thing I noticed was that with the current running out, it was turning into a mud flat, a characteristic I'm already familiar with at that landing. We got everyone out but were keenly aware our time was limited.
We took a relatively short break. Often, we take an hour or more, but in this case, it took us so long to get there that we couldn't stay long. I picked up some of my favorite Japanese groceries - including this sort of milk-juice drink, snacked and chatted a bit, and then got ready to go.
After I applied my sunscreen, several folks asked for it. I expect this to happen so I gave up my near-empty bottle, keeping the full stuff in my locker back at the boathouse.
Sure enough, when we launched, the mud beneath the waves was a quagmire. People lost shoes (and recovered them). We had to push the boats out pretty far in some cases because otherwise they were stuck in the mud. Once we got clear, we were OK, but it took some effort - and this is not a beach you want to be sliding around barefoot on. It's got glass and other sharp objects; it's not a pleasant place at low tide.
Paddling back was easy-peasy. We had good current, and therefore kept on the Jersey side. Before we crossed, we pulled into an embayment and encouraged people to "accidentally" fall in one at a time to cool off. Only a couple of people took advantage of our offer - possibly because the first person to do so cannonballed in and stood up in less than four feet of water. I hung of someone's bow and dipped myself in to cool off.
Coming back was . . .weird. First, there was traffic, which is OK and even typical; if anything, it was unusual that there had been almost no traffic when we crossed the first time. However, while waiting for a motorboat to pass, we noticed a ton of flashing lights on the traffic circle above the boat basin - all FDNY vehicles. Then we saw an FDNY boat zoom up the river and past the boat basin. We paddled a bit, then saw an NYPD boat, followed by an NYPD helicopter that ended up hovering over the boat basin. Then, we crossed a bit, and stopped as two more NYPD boats raced up the river. We also saw some crew boats hovering in the 72nd street embayment - my guess was they had radios and were waiting for traffic to clear. We finally crossed and went downtown, and saw a USCG helicopter flying north.
Now, these may have been unrelated events, but it sure seemed like they were related.
Overall it was a good trip. Mom and daughter did well on the way back - especially crossing. Everyone who left came back, and seemed satisfied. The only thing that marred the day was less about the trip - I noticed some cracks in my boat's gel coat, and I'll have to get them fixed, which is something of a hassle. I'm not sure where they came from but it doesn't matter - I can paddle a bit, but will need to get them fixed.
Public trips are one of the free programs the Downtown Boathouse (DTBH) operates. Basically, Saturday and Sunday mornings in the summer we will take a group of the "public" - walk-up participants - on a trip up or down the river. The usual requirements of an ability to swim and signing a waiver are in place, and it is strongly recommended people paddle in the embayment a few times to get used to the boat. We take half a dozen single-seat boats and four double-seat boats and come back in three hours or so.
On this trip we opted for Mitsuwa, the Japanese supermarket in Fort Lee. We would run out of current by the time we got there, wait a bit, then come back with current.
The day was incredibly muggy. Hot, sticky, and overcast to boot. There were predictions of scattered showers, up to 50% chance of rain. Rain isn't an issue, but lightning is.
We got the public situated - a series of steps that are long and boring to describe. Basically, we usually can't take everyone. We give them a brief primer on the trip, test their abilities in the embayment, and kick out anyone who might be problematic. We didn't kick anyone out.
In this case, we gave the benefit of doubt to a mother-daughter pairing in a double. The mom was OK, but the daughter was kind of useless. We guessed she was being dragged along on a Bonding Experience. To be fair, once we got underway, after quite a bit of at-sea coaching, they were able to make headway, but it took them a while, and we had to keep an eye on them.
Public trips are where I most feel like a kayak cowgirl. We shepherd the public along, making sure they stay where it's safe, herding them from one point to another. They're slower than the typical pace of an experienced group - lots of time figuratively gripping the pommel, reins in hand - move along, little doggies, move along.
We made our way north past now-familiar landmarks - Pier I, the Boat Basin, the mooring field. We stopped for a water twice before even crossing the weather - the heat and humidity were just draining us in our exertions. We lined up around 96th street, and then crossed the river, where we took water again and then headed north.
We stopped again to let people catch up. By then, the current was starting to turn, and the weaker paddlers were getting strung out. As we got underway, after some effort, the mother-daughter team had tone towed by two volunteers. They had done well, but against the current was too much for them.
We landed at Mitsuwa. The first thing I noticed was that with the current running out, it was turning into a mud flat, a characteristic I'm already familiar with at that landing. We got everyone out but were keenly aware our time was limited.
We took a relatively short break. Often, we take an hour or more, but in this case, it took us so long to get there that we couldn't stay long. I picked up some of my favorite Japanese groceries - including this sort of milk-juice drink, snacked and chatted a bit, and then got ready to go.
After I applied my sunscreen, several folks asked for it. I expect this to happen so I gave up my near-empty bottle, keeping the full stuff in my locker back at the boathouse.
Sure enough, when we launched, the mud beneath the waves was a quagmire. People lost shoes (and recovered them). We had to push the boats out pretty far in some cases because otherwise they were stuck in the mud. Once we got clear, we were OK, but it took some effort - and this is not a beach you want to be sliding around barefoot on. It's got glass and other sharp objects; it's not a pleasant place at low tide.
Paddling back was easy-peasy. We had good current, and therefore kept on the Jersey side. Before we crossed, we pulled into an embayment and encouraged people to "accidentally" fall in one at a time to cool off. Only a couple of people took advantage of our offer - possibly because the first person to do so cannonballed in and stood up in less than four feet of water. I hung of someone's bow and dipped myself in to cool off.
Coming back was . . .weird. First, there was traffic, which is OK and even typical; if anything, it was unusual that there had been almost no traffic when we crossed the first time. However, while waiting for a motorboat to pass, we noticed a ton of flashing lights on the traffic circle above the boat basin - all FDNY vehicles. Then we saw an FDNY boat zoom up the river and past the boat basin. We paddled a bit, then saw an NYPD boat, followed by an NYPD helicopter that ended up hovering over the boat basin. Then, we crossed a bit, and stopped as two more NYPD boats raced up the river. We also saw some crew boats hovering in the 72nd street embayment - my guess was they had radios and were waiting for traffic to clear. We finally crossed and went downtown, and saw a USCG helicopter flying north.
Now, these may have been unrelated events, but it sure seemed like they were related.
Overall it was a good trip. Mom and daughter did well on the way back - especially crossing. Everyone who left came back, and seemed satisfied. The only thing that marred the day was less about the trip - I noticed some cracks in my boat's gel coat, and I'll have to get them fixed, which is something of a hassle. I'm not sure where they came from but it doesn't matter - I can paddle a bit, but will need to get them fixed.
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