Bon March

Low wind, air temp in the high fifties sunny to partly cloudy? Sounded like a perfect day for a paddle to me. I sent out an invite to my regular cold water paddling coterie. I only got one response, and even he later dropped out, so Saturday March 8 ended up being a solo paddle.

I could tell it was going to be great when I looked out my living room window. It was sunny! And, the snow on the ground had been clear for a week. After packing all my gear, I walked up through the Cloisters, looking down from the heights at the Hudson. I saw no big patches of ice.

When I got to the boathouse, I could only make out little "berglets" - not the chunky ice bisque of February, or the great slabs of ice in January. I packed up the Argonaut and set out.

From the Inwood Canoe Club Dock.

I set out south, catching the very last of the ebb tide current as it went slack. I had a couple of destination ideas in mind, inspired in part by Frogma's meander paddling in Jamaica Bay last week. Since I was on my own, I wouldn't have to worry about other people's schedules or stamina. I had lunch - a Beef Stew MRE pack and plenty of water and tea. Where would the day take me?

My first major 'berg.

Still waters, plenty of ice.

I decided to cross the Hudson above the George Washington Bridge. My thinking was that I wanted to get to that side anyway, and it was a nice enough day that there was very little risk. I also wanted to avoid some funny little shoals on the eastern side of the channel. I waited for a barge to pass, and then crossed.

I made for the ferryboat Binghamtom, one of my more sentimental stops on the Hudson. Sadly, I don't expect her to be around much longer, and she looks worse every time I see her.

A loose piling floats alongside the Binghamton.

The interior continues to fade aware from exposure.

I made a stop at Mitsuwa, no getting out but deciding my next course. Mitsuwa is a Japanese supermarket in Fort Lee, New Jersey. There is a small beach kayaks can land on. I didn't need food though, and I wanted to explore further south to see if there were other places to take out. Unfortunately more of that side of the river is shored by big rocky boulder beaches. Yes, I can take out there, but if I were shepherding a group of beginners, I wouldn't rely on it.

I came out of a cove to this view.

Looking south, Manhattan on the left, New Jersey on the right.

I spoke to a woman and her little girl on shore. It being International Women's Day, I was sort of hoping I'd inspire my gender to take up sea kayaking, even though when dolled up in a drysuit, PFD, and and wool cap, I look more like an androgynous egg yolk.

I knew the tide had already changed, and decided I wanted to cross back before it got too strong. I was concerned that a faster current might bring ice towards me while I was trying a ferry crossing. The current was not nearly as strong as I expected. 

I was able to make it pretty easily to the 9th Street Boat Basin. I was hoping for their kayak launch as a takeout point, but I didn't see it where I thought it was meant to be. So, I paddled past their icebreakers, a d took this photo.

Ice along the Upper West Side Seawall.

Onwards I went. By now I was definitely getting hungry. I watches one southbound barge pass another, and afterwards paddled out into the current to expedite my path to Fairway, where there is a small kayak launch jutting out from the park. You know, "like no other market". From there I took this picture of yet another berglet.

Baby 'berg at 125th street.

A friendly passerby pointed out that the gate to the dock was locked. "No problem, mate," I thought to myself, "I've got all I need with me." I found a patch on the dock that wasn't covered in goose poop and pulled out my rations, heating up the beef stew while I nibbled on crackers and peanut butter, followed by an oatmeal cookie, all washing down with hot tea. Once again, I found a milkshake mix in the MRE. I will have to try one of those sometime.

After reseting and digesting,  set out again, with much stronger current. This was a good thing, because I am not in peak condition, owing to less frequent paddling in this icy winter. The wind picked up a bit and I did a lot of sweep-forward sweep-forward, in some cases sweep-forward-forward-forward, till I got up to the Little Red Lighthouse, where a surprising number of people were sunning themselves on the rocks, taking selfies, lovers kissing. I waved at some kids, and then rounded the point, moving on past the red marker boy and on back to Inwood.

Here is a link to my approximate route. I used to embed the HTML directly; I haven't figured out how to do that with the new Google Maps.

https://mapsengine.google.com/map/edit?mid=zx4Zw8K5sa4g.kcoW_cm66Tco

All in, it was a great paddle. I ran into fellow club member and SUP'er Mac Levine on the way out. I packed up, cleaned the Argonaut, and went into a paddle come when I got home. Next week is the official start of Spring. I can't wait.

XXX

An Old Lady Nears the End

Remember when I wrote about the Ferryboat Binghamtom last month? Well apparently, she's going to be taken away.


I'm genuinely sad to get confirmation (via a poster on the Facebook page for the ferry). I had really hoped this could be one of those things where enough rally got the ship fixed up.

Links:

http://newyork.cbslocal.com/2012/08/03/end-of-an-era-for-revered-107-year-old-n-j-ferry-boat-turned-restaurant

http://kayakcowgirl.blogspot.com/2012/07/ferryboat-binghamton.html

Short Stop

The cowgirl headed north today, but alas a late start cut short the destination. I was hoping to catch a couple hours of flood tide up to the Harlem River, and take some photos there, getting as far as Peter Sharp Boathouse. However, a gabby woman at the beauty parlor, along with a need for lunch before I launched, meant I started to fight the current right around the time I got to the GWB.

Hand in hand with that were predictions of winds up to 15 miles per hour. There were some gusts, and coming back there was a steady wind coming at me. I didn't relish the prospect of fighting current north and paddling back through thunderstorms after dark . . .so I called it short and landed at a muddy patch just north of the GWB, south of Ross Dock.

Muddy ain't the word for it. By the time I was ready to launch, the water looked fine, but as soon as I stepped past the waterline, my sandals were stuck in mud. I couldn't climb in my boat without bringing along some extra muck. I almost got stuck, straddling my boat like I was going to sit in it, my feet anchored to the riverbed. I was able to free myself, backed out, and launched like I would from a beach - facing the water and bunny hopping with each incoming ripple until the boat was on the water. While that worked, I noticed that it was a good twelve or fifteen yards before my paddle wasn't touching mud with each stroke.

There was some kind of race going on. My first clue was when I saw a Coast Guard ATN boat (Aids To Navigation) with a blue light on. I later texted my brother, who has served for over a decade, and he said it meant either search and rescue or law enforcement. Then I saw a caravan of motor boats and kayaks, each clustered together and moving slowly, which usually means one thing: swimmers. I asked around later on, and it turned out there was a relay swim event around Manhattan.

Watching this event perplexed the cowgirl on a couple of points. One set got REAL close to a barge, much closer than I'd ever let anyone get. Then, as we got closer to midtown, and 56th street, and the cruise ships next to it - well everyone had to stop because one of those graceful beauties was backing out. Given that the current was flowing south, and the wind blowing north, I'm not sure what might have happened to the swimmers, but everyone had to stop and peel off while the Norwegian Princess got underway (I may have the name wrong - that's my generic name for these queens of the sea).

I pulled in, good and tuckered. The wind had picked up quite a bit, and I warned some members of the public to keep paddling lest they be pushed into some pilings.

I ought to mention another sight, one I observed not too long ago on another trip: vintage planes. There is a biplane that flies, straight out of the roaring twenties. I have also seen what looks like a World War 2 era bomber, not sure of the model but definitely of that era. I'm not sure if they're filming a movie, or just having a lark.

I took a closer look at the Binghamton. I think it is repairable; the damage is all to the superstructure. No pictures though -the wind was a-blowing, and I didn't want to trade in my paddle for a camera.

In fact, no pictures at all this time - nothing new, this was a trip on familiar territory.