Mixing it Up

A friend of mine passed along a good deal on a whitewater boat recently, including matching spraydeck and a one-piece paddle, slightly feathered. I had to drive a bit out of my way to pick it up, and suffered a biblical deluge of rain on the way home, but I did get the boat, a Liquid Logic Remix 59.

I've only done white water paddling a couple of times. The first, a few years ago, when I was first starting to paddle a bit more seriously and learned a friend at work was into kayaking - but only whitewater. He invited me along to do a stretch of the Lehigh near Jim Thorpe, with a class he was assisting with, and it was eye-opening.

Moderately Terrifying is the way I would have put it at the time. I paddled like a sea kayaking - charging through and over waves, trying hard to resist the instinct the edge to the outside of turns, rather than to edge downstream. In whitewater, always edge downstream.

A couple of years ago I started dating a paddler, one who does whitewater, and in short order learned we had mutual friends, including two women who paddle whitewater canoe. So, once again in a borrowed boat, I paddled part of the upper Delaware river, this time with a few more years overall paddling experience, including some time in big, dynamic water.

The very weekend I bought the Remix, my friend LB was taking another group down that same stretch of water on the Delaware. As white water goes, it's pretty easy, with a couple of interesting pieces, but mostly just a steady flow of water to practice boat control in. We drove up past Port Jervis and lower the boats to the water's edge, and in short order, we were off.

Ready on Deck.

Most of the Delaware looks like this here.

LB paddling her canoe.

But parts of it get a little perky.

Fellow instructor C paddling his canoe.

As we proceeded, we stopped and played around various rocks and wave trains. There is a spot that has a drop with a funnel next to it, and we practiced eddy work there.

Further down, there's the "Mongaup Wave", where the Mongaup river roars in almost perpendicular to the Delaware, and rather steeply, with a tall cliffside opposite. Where the waters converge is a long and strong wave train, with narrow eddies along the side. We played there for a bit. The Remix surfed well against the waves, but it was hard to attain against them.

We did have one mishap, easily recovered. One of the newer paddlers lost her balance against a rock and fell in, but was easily recovered in the next eddy. While that was going on, LB and I took turns surfing a small wave a little ways down.

Smiles.

At the end, we were supposed to rendezvous with a group that had done the Mongaup run, but there was some confusion about where to meet. They're suppose to come here, each group thought, at their respective take-outs. Eventually two emissaries from the other group arrived, right as we were about to head to them.

The Remix is a fun boat to paddle. I even took a roll in it at the end - not as graceful in a sea kayak, but do-able. I need to practice more. It's super-stable and very snug. The spraydeck is a bit tight, but hopefully it will stretch out a bit the more I use it.

An East River Adventure

"Do you want to go paddling?"

This was the regular call of my good friend Kayak Dov, an accomplished sea kayaker and instructor, an all-around adventurer. Truth was, I'd considered it earlier in the week. Sunday was a beautiful day, and I hadn't been on natural water in a while. But, it was predicted to be windy, and the water was cold, and I had a lot of chores to do.

I dithered a bit, and then said yes. In short order we'd worked out a cartop plan to try someplace new: Baretto Point Park, in the Bronx. The New York Times writes about it every couple of years; as the South Bronx crawls forward in its on-again off-again development plan, the fact that there is a rather nice little park on the shores of the upper East River, and "urban oasis", is somewhat astonishing, over and over and over again.

It's even a destination I advertise as a place to take clients, though so far the only takers petered out before we even got to Randalls Island. From Inwood, it's an all day trip, but in this case, we were starting at the park, planning to paddle east before the current turned southwest.

"What is this place," asked Dov. "It's like the kind of neighborhood Batman's villains would hang out it. He's not wrong. After driving out on various highways, we found ourselves on a service road running parallel to an avenue that was running alongside an elevated highway. Then we took some streets that crossed tracks and veered south to a land of warehouses and semi trucks. We were in the armpit of the South Bronx. No one came here unless they had to.

Fortunately that meant parking was easy, though we had a lengthy portage to the little beach itself.

Getting orientated.

Dov took a couple of bearings and we identified some landmarks. The upper East River bends a bit and expands and contracts along its length; it's a much better place for practicing orientation and learning how deceptive the land can be when viewed from sea.

We set out eastward, passing a DEP ship (the Red Hook) tied up at a pier next to the park, and then on past Hunts Point.

Kayak Dov, in his Rebel Ilaga.

The East River is used for shipping, mostly barges, so we kept our eyes out for vessels coming and going. In short time, we were caught up by this little tug, pushing what seemed to be a golf driving range.

Dov guessed that it was a garbage scow, and the fencing was to prevent garbage from being blown into the water. I hate to say it but I think he might've been right about that.

Tug on the East River.

The tug passed us, and then seemed to be getting closer. We realized that she was turning in towards shore, which seemed odd, until we realized she was probably heading up the Bronx River, which emptied into the shallow bay on our left.

After she passed, we kept paddling. I figured we'd get out to the Throgs Neck, perhaps farther, before turning back. Suddenly, Dov exclaimed, "did you see that!"

"What?"

"A porpoise, or maybe a dolphin."

Maybe, I thought to myself. I scanned the horizon. I didn't see anything, but it was certainly possible. After all, one or more whales were sighted in the Hudson river last fall. And, it wouldn't be the first time a dolphin was spotted in the East River.

I got out my phone (which has a lifejacket of its own) and watched while Dov floated out into the channel.

Then I saw it!

We played a game of gopher for a few minutes, looking here, then there, telling each other where we'd spotted it. I started recording video, clips of a minute or so at a time, hoping to catch it. Eventually I did, but just a few times.

Dolphin Surfacing.

Eventually, I put together this little clip, which gives a better sense of the search.

Eventually, we didn't see him for a while. A barge was coming out and so we decided to clear the channel. I paddled to the south, thinking it was marginally closer, sheltered behind a large rock. This put us at the northeast corner of Flushing Bay, so we came up with a new plan, something fun to do from the water in Flushing: watch the planes land at La Guardia airport.

La Guardia Airport.

Kayak Dov Stylin' and Profilin'.

Watching the planes land.

 On a clear day, you can see planes landing.

Another touchdown.

We didn't loiter too long, not wanting to overstay our welcome at the very end of the runway.

As we headed back, we fought a steady headwind. The wind had changed direction and grown in strength to its predicted Force 5. Fortunately the tidal currents turned in our favor, as the water started to slurp towards the black hole that is Hell Gate.

In short order we crossed under the Instrument Landing Pier and then crossed back to the Bronx. I say, "in short order" but it actually felt like quite a bit of work, one stage at a time: to the pier, to the channel, across the channel.

Fortunately the wind was an onshore one for us, and we had a pretty easy paddle back to the beach, surfing in some waves kicked up by a nearby barge.

It's not an NYC paddle if you're not close to traffic!

Before turning in, Dov let me try out his Ilaga - it's an amazing boat, one the tracks true but responds very, very well to edging.

It was a beautiful day, if somewhat cold. The water temperature in particular is still quite chilly, and if not for our pogies, our hands got numb very fast.

The upper East River is a neat place to paddle. There's much more variety of shoreline than along NYC's Hudson coast, and the dynamics of traffic and wildlife are unlike anywhere around Manhattan. Whether paddling there or cartopping to put in there, it's a worthwhile destination.

In particular, you can get this view pretty easily.

La Guardia, the Manhattan skyline, a jet plane.

Sometimes, it doesn't take much to prompt a great day at sea.

Safely Sharing Waterways

Recently, The National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) released a report on boater safety, including the challenges in sharing waterways between commercial traffic, recreational boats (motors and sails) and, of course, paddle craft.

The entire thing is quite a good read. You can find a good summary here, and the full report in PDF form here. Fellow paddler and NYC blogger Frogma has a post up about a recent experience she had with a group in low visibility, sharing the waterways; nothing terrible happened. There's no reason these waters can't be shared.

There is a lot to unpack from the report and its summary. Setting aside the typo of "waived" for "waved" early in the document, I thought I'd write up what I see in what they came up with. What's in italics in this post is lifted directly from the report.


There are three organizations that are referred to throughout the document, sometimes by name, sometimes by acronym. The USCG is the United States Coast Guard; NASBLA is the National Association of State Boating Law Administrators; NWSC is the National Water Safety Congress.

Who are these people?

Well, the Coast Guard is the Coast Guard; they're a branch of the American military that falls under Homeland Security. My brother was an active USCG member and is finishing up as a reservist with the rank of chief; their main role is law enforcement and SAR (Search And Rescue). Also, icebreaking.

NASBLA is an association of US state boating agencies. They have a lot of standards, and good information, but no enforcement capability; that's the realm of the individual states.

NWSC is a non-profit, formed in 1951, to promote safe recreational use of our waterways. That's straight from their website.



The report itself opens dramatically, recounting the day last summer (2016) when a NY Waterways ferry collided with a couple of kayakers, part of a larger group, on a trip out of Pier 84 in Manhattan; this is accompanied by a screenshot from a "bridgecam" showing the kayakers and the sun glare conditions on the water.

However, that is all you will hear about that story, and pretty much all you will hear about paddling in New York City. Nothing else in this report addresses or references that incident or any findings about it.

Early in the summary, the report states:

. . .all recreational vessel operators need to attain a minimum level of boating safety education to mitigate risk. In addition, the NTSB [National Transportation Safety Board] believes the U.S. Coast Guard should require recreational boaters on US navigable waterways to demonstrate completion of an instructional course meeting the National Association of State Boating Law Administrators or equivalent standards.

OK, I agree with this, in principle at least. Anyone operating on US waterways should know what they're doing. But, what would that mean? Here, they're saying the Coast Guard should require boaters to demonstrate that they have taken a class the meets standards set by NASBLA, or something like that.

Except, think through what this means organizationally. This means that first NASBLA has to create standards, and then get agencies to offer those classes. Not only that, but they have to ensure those classes actually meet those standards (or, is it the Coast Guard's job - it isn't clear). And, on top of all of that, the report tasks the Coast Guard with making sure mariners have taken one of these classes. Madam, might I see your boating safety diploma?

Although the number of registered recreational vessels has decreased over the last decade, the reduction is not reflective of the trend in the total number of vessels on the waterways. In fact, the number of canoers, kayakers, and standup paddleboarders (SUP) increased by 21.9 percent between 2008 and 2014 (see Appendix A), with the vast majority of their vessels being unregistered. Consequently, the number of interactions between these diverse vessels has risen, thereby increasing the safety risk, especially where confined waterways limit the ability of vessels to maneuver safely.

Registration of paddlecraft would bring a very different dynamic to the industry. For one thing, unlike motor or sail boats, you don't need a lot of training to get started - which is arguably one of the concerns in the first place.

All that being said, I can't help but believe that disparate sets of data are being used to paint a picture of irresponsible paddlers clogging our nation's navigable arteries. They're saying that 1) there are more paddlecraft out there, but also 2) they aren't registered, so therefor 3) there must be a lot more unregistered paddlers out there!

Maybe this is true. But, even the industry is uncertain about growth. Is it mostly recreational boats? Sea kayaks? Whitewater boats? How much of the growth in paddlesport is in areas defined as shared waterways? How many of these known-to-be-unknown paddlecraft are on shared waterways, as opposed to a lake or a pond?

The safety risk is exacerbated not only by the diversity of waterway users but also by differences in their experience, marine knowledge, and boat-handling skills.

Holy shizzlesnacks, that is a true statement. And here, we start to get to the heart of the problem. Most of the paddlers I know have at least enough experience to know what they should and shouldn't do, and have basic knowledge of the "rules of the road", or COLREGS. 

On the other hand, anyone can buy a boat at Wal-Mart and put in at Liberty State Park or Inwood and start paddling in a commercial shipping zone. I have seen people on the water in vessels that are clearly not meant for the conditions here, paddled by people who do not demonstrate even minimal knowledge or ability. And if you're a commercial operator, you don't know. You can't tell who's and expert and who's not.

According to a Coast Guard estimate, only 28 percent of motorized recreational vessel operators were required by state laws to complete a boating safety course or pass an examination of boating safety knowledge in 2015. 

Adding additional risk, recreational vessel operators may not realize that their vessels’ small sizes and nonmetal construction materials make both visual and radar detection more difficult. An officer in charge of the navigation watch on a large cargo or passenger ship positioned 100 feet or more above the water’s surface will be challenged to see from the bridge window or detect by radar a paddleboard whose operator is maneuvering in close proximity to the larger vessel.

These are two very important facts. On the first, the challenge is the disparity between regulations in the several states, in particular when they share waters - for example, New York and New Jersey on the Hudson River. On the second, I am of the opinion that this needs to be communicated more. Captains are not necessarily being jerks when they can't see you. They can't always see something as small as a kayak or paddleboard. We are hard to see, even with our bright colors, reflective tape, and use of radios.

This is where I'm glad to say the report includes non-paddle craft as well; the problem of sharing waterways is not limited to human-powered vessels.

Open motorboats accounted for the highest number of injuries and fatalities (1,661), followed by personal watercraft (656), cabin motorboats (305), canoes and kayaks (230), and pontoon boats (139). A comparison with Coast Guard recreational vessel accident data from 2011 showed similar trends. 

In contrast, very few operators of non-motorized recreational vessels are required to be licensed or demonstrate knowledge of the navigation rules, and many operators of motorized recreational vessels are exempt from these requirements as well. You might make the argument that despite the increase in unregistered paddlers, there hasn't been an excessive increase in paddlers involved in injuries and fatalities.

The degree of risk overall appears to be influenced largely by a lack of awareness or understanding of the navigation rules among a large portion of recreational boat operators and by their lack of adequate boating knowledge and skills.

Here is the only other notable mention of August's accident in New York City:

The tour operator involved in the August 2016 New York City accident was unaware of the practice that counterparts in Chicago employed: the use of radios by kayak tour guides to communicate with commercial vessels. NTSB believes using radios is a practice that can enhance safety, and practices such as these should be shared among HSCs (Harbor Safety Committees) so that stakeholders can learn about them and implement them as appropriate.

NTSB concludes that all recreational vessel operators need to attain a minimum level of boating safety education to mitigate the various risks associated with the type of vessel being operated. 

[Emphasis mine]

Yes. Amen to radios, with the caveat that they are not 100% effective. Paddlers are low to the water, and I have heard directly from commercial skippers that they do not always have the ability to reply to every call, especially when completing a complex maneuver. It's still useful to announce a securite, and even more useful to listen to the other traffic around you. 

And, I agree that all recreational vessel operators need to attain a minimum level of boating safety education. It's hard not to. It's a common sense idea.

However, this brings us back to the gaping hole at in the center of this report: there is no clear definition of who is responsible for defining or maintaining these standards, nor for enforcing them, nor who is responsible when they are violated. 

Findings 

1. Harbor safety committees can substantively improve safety between commercial and recreational vessels if risks are regularly identified, practices are developed and implemented to mitigate these risks, and these practices are shared with stakeholders and other harbor safety committees. 
2. All recreational vessel operators need to attain a minimum level of boating safety education to mitigate the various risks associated with the type of vessel being operated. 
3. The Coast Guard should renew its efforts to seek legislative authority to require recreational boaters on waters subject to the jurisdiction of the United States to obtain education that meets National Association of State Boating Law Administrators or equivalent standards. 
4. A Guide to Multiple Use Waterway Management should be reviewed and updated at regular intervals.

I hate to pick nits, because I agree with so much of what is said in this report but:

1. Yes, they can. But how many will, and who would make sure that they do?
2. Yes. Absolutely. But again, who defines that, and then makes it a standard?
3. Just to be clear, the report is saying that the Coast Guard should ask congress to let them enforce rules created by an interstate consortium that in itself has no enforcement powers.
4. Yes. Whatever this document is should be reviewed and updated. But, at the risk of sounding like an owl . . . .Who? Who?

Recommendations 
As a result of this report, the National Transportation Safety Board makes the following safety recommendations 

To the US Coast Guard: 

1. Establish a process whereby, at regular intervals, all harbor safety committees identify the safety risks posed by the interaction of commercial and recreational vessels in their respective geographic areas; where necessary, develop and implement practices to mitigate those risks; and share successful practices among all harbor safety committees. (M-17-1). 
2. Seek statutory authority that requires all recreational boat operators on waters subject to the jurisdiction of the United States to demonstrate completion of an instructional course or an equivalent that meets the National Association of State Boating Law Administrators standards. (M-17-2). 
3. Work with the National Association of State Boating Law Administrators and the National Water Safety Congress to review and update A Guide to Multiple Use Waterway Management at regular intervals. (M-17-3).

To the National Association of State Boating Law Administrators: 

1. Work with the National Water Safety Congress and the US Coast Guard to review and update A Guide to Multiple Use Waterway Management at regular intervals. (M-17-4) To the National Water Safety Congress: 5. Work with the National Association of State Boating Law Administrators and the US Coast Guard to review and update A Guide to Multiple Use Waterway Management at regular intervals. (M-17-5).

At the end, the report basically puts the onus on the Coast Guard - already one of the most underfunded military or police organizations in the United States - to work with an interstate consortium as well as numerous "harbor Safety Committees", the latter of which may or may not be well-defined. They're all supposed to keep this document updated, and to enforce not only the rules, but that everyone on shared waterways has taken an approved course.

Now, I love me some regulation of industry, but I do wonder how this would work, especially in a time when deregulation and smaller government are coming into vogue.

Amazing

I was conducting a paddling skills assessment at a lake yesterday, aided by friend and fellow instructor Jean Kostelich of Two Geeks @ Three Knots. While there, I ran into some other local acquaintances, people who are more skilled paddlers than I, and we got to talking. Our conversation went along these lines:

You got any plans this fall? What about that thing we went to in Groton?

Gotta wait and see about my schedule. I'd love to go. I also want to get some [n] training.

Really, with who?

[name]. I find his style really works for me.

Yes he's good, I only met him last year. You going for your  [n] ?

Maybe, but what would I do with it? Conditions around here are only so much, and very few paddlers are up to that level of paddling.

Yeah. In NYC people say I'm an amazing paddler, but I go up there and I realize where I'm really at. You know, just average at best.

What constitutes amazing? I think it's only human to think in binary terms: I'm a beginner or  I'm amazing. Where one places oneself on that limited spectrum might depend on the events of that day. If you try something new, that pushes your limits, how well you do will color your self-perception.

I for one can say that I felt pretty darned amazing the day I capsized while surfing a three-foot wave and rolled up on my less-elegant side. But then the next day I repeatedly failed a re-entry and roll.

Some folks who keep at their paddling will develop a third model. The wording is always awkward. What's an "advanced beginner" or "intermediate". In my own work I've settled on "improvers", covering a wide range: from "has the basics down" to "can do everything I can and be better at it too."

The truth though, is that paddling skills are a spectrum, and each skill in itself can run on a spectrum. I've seen plenty of paddlers with good forward and turning strokes but weak or ineffective braces. I've seen some amazing rollers who have messy draw strokes. On top of all this, there's experience in conditions. Strokes that work in rough water will work in flat water, but unless practiced correctly, in those conditions, fear in the "brain" part of body-boat-blade-brain will wreck the best efforts of the other three Bs.

Hence, most of the best paddlers I know will say they're "OK". "Just OK," because paddling is a practice. It's an ongoing activity and achievement. I might have an amazing bow rudder one day and a terrible on the next. Or crack six rolls consecutively one day but then muscle one the next.

Amazing? It's all in the eye of the beholder.

S.I. Saw the Light(houses)

Last weekend I made it out to the lower harbor again, joined by my good friend MM and some mates she invited along from her New Jersy club. All were experienced sea paddlers. Weather was very gentle, with low winds and only partly cloudy. It was a bit chilly, but warmed quickly.

Our goal was to paddle to at least one lighthouse, and possibly a second one. West Bank Light sits about four miles off Staten Island, two miles south of Swinburne Island, which is where I went to see seals earlier this month. Another two miles further is Romer Shoal Light, which is actually closer to Sandy Hook than to Staten Island. Both mark very shallow waters, warning big ships to stay away and serving as markers for smaller vessels.

As it happens, one of our party has a son who knows the owner of Romer Shoal Light, and through such short degrees of separation we were able to get permission to land there. You know, just in case.

In short order, we rendezvoused at the north end of Roosevelt Boardwalk, portaged and kitted our boats, and set out for our destinations.

Setting out past Hoffman Island.

The Verrazano behind us, Manhattan in the distance.

The water was a bit chilly when we left, but as we paddled we got warmer, and the water seemed nothing against our skin.

We pulled past Swinburne, watched a couple of container ships drive through the Ambrose Channel, and took stock of the lower harbor.

We were definitely on open water.

West Bank Light.

The lower harbor is one of the few places in NYC where a New York paddler gets a sense of the open ocean. The rivers around Manhattan are a tidal estuary, to be sure, but there are plenty of landmarks and the shore is never more than half a mile away. Even in the upper harbor, trafficked as it is, there's still a sense of being in relatively sheltered water. It's just a large bowl, bounded by Brooklyn, New Jersey, and Staten Island.

The lower harbor is still sheltered but immensely broad. The exit to the sea is between Sandy Hook and Breezy Point in the Rockaways - five miles as the crow flies.

Beyond that is the open sea.

Closer to the Light(house).

Far Out.

Looking up.

We marveled at West Bank Light. Unmanned, it's still an impressive presence. There is something appealing about lighthouses, in their remoteness and resilience, something that inspires admiration in all mariners.

This part of the journey had only taken an hour, and we were all feeling nice and warmed up. The flat conditions - Sea State 1, technically but barely - invited us to journey on.

Onward to Romer Shoal.

Take a Break.

Make Adjustments.

Romer Shoal Light has a curious history. Originally the lighthouse was ashore and used for testing new methods of lighting. One of its keepers disappeared at sea when he set out for shore, leaving his assistant in charge until his body was found. At various points the light was operated by the US Navy, the Coast Guard, and eventually automated.

Now it's owned by a Staten Island businessman.

Romer Light, Worse for Wear.

At this point we'd been paddling for about an hour and a half and had at least two hours paddling to get back, not to mention breaking for lunch. One of our number floated the idea of landing, and I took that as a nudge to work on my "manage a group landing on rocks skills", notably, have the person in a plastic boat land first.

That would be me.

I scoped out various places to land. The tide surged about one to two feet in a cycle, not breaking in our protected cove, but adding some vertical challenge. It was also near low tide so we had slimy, slippery rocks, and none that really offered a flat surface.

I found a spot, popped my skirt, then pulled myself out quickly before grabbing my boat and, with a little finesse, lifting it up on the rocks.

I then helped MM, and brought her boat up, and with two ashore we were able to help the rest out quickly.

Shore Landing. Not shipwrecked!

Shore Party - for Lunch!

We took our lunch and watched a dredging tug come in from sea. We'd spotted hear earlier, a vessel with four distinctive stacks on the corners, to make her a platform in shallow-enough water. Done with her work, she was heading in. From our vantage, we could take in the sea, Coney Island, Staten Island, and Sandy Hook with equal east.

Interlopers on the way back.

We launched in reverse order of exit and paddled back towards Staten Island. The tide was slack and therefore not in our favor as had been the case on the way out, so the trip took a little longer.

On the way back we saw a different sort of voyageur.

Another way to view the seas.

I should mention too that we saw seals, but not as many as before because we were not near their winter home. They showed up late - L and R missed them, but MM and I spotted them and lagged behind trying to spot more - so long in fact that eventually L and R stopped and waited for us, took pictures of us, and only later noticed the seal in frame! The photos have been posted on the New York Kayak Company Facebook page.

Unpacking.

Once back, we un-kitted and put our boats back on cars, then drove to a German bierhaus and had smoked meats, potatoes, and beer. It was grand.

Always a lovely day at sea to make new friends and enjoy new views. I hope to make it out here more frequently once the weather is warm.

The Pelham Islands

A couple of weeks ago I was joined by a couple of friends for a nice paddle in one of the farther reaches of New York City: the Pelham Islands.

What the heck are the Pelham Islands?

These are a set of rocky, irregularly shaped dots of land stretching from City Island in the Bronx towards New Rochelle, NY. These lie past the Throgs Neck bridge, open to Long Island Sound. There's tons of history here. They're all worth reading up on. I'm only going to offer some highlights here.

I was joined by AA (in the green Delphin) and MM (in the yellow Avocet). AA and I keep our boats in the same clubhouse, so we met there and cartopped up to Pelham Bay Park, where we launched near the northwest corner of the parking lot into sheltered water. The weather was predicted to be a slight breeze and a gloomy, overcast day. It started out nice and got to be less so.

We saw swans - big, huge, beautiful swans.

And came out around Hog Island, right around where these floating houses were.

None of us had paddled here before, so this was a good orienteering exercise. After we came out into full view of the Sound, we headed up and around Davids Island. For the first couple of centuries of non-Native American use, the island was a getaway for mainlanders, but during the Civil War became a military hospital, later made into a defensive fort; as late as the 1960s it was home to Nike defense missiles, much like Sandy Hook. Somewhere there is a themed paddling excursion from Davids Island to Sandy Hook, methinks.

As we came round Davids, we headed out a bit to round Huckleberry Island, a much smaller island that is owned by a boating club. There's an old saw that Captain Kidd buried treasure there. In less fanciful circles, it's regarded as a major bird sanctuary.

We tried a little rock-hopping, but there wasn't much tidal current to play with.

Plenty of mussels - and a clear distinction of which parts the birds had a hard time getting at !

Far in the distance, we could make out Manhattan. If you zoom and squint, you can make out the Empire State Building.

The club that owns the island also has a gazebo on it. Pity they're not into letting random paddlers camp there.

Onwards we went. Our next sight was Columbia Island. Formerly home to a broadcast tower, complete with living and workspace for a husband-and-wife broadcast team, the tower's since been knocked down and replaced with solar panels by the present owner. It's a pity. Towers are cool. Why wouldn't you put panels up on the tower? It's a rhetorical question, science friends.

It took us a while to figure out this long, lonely island was Pea Island.

After these was the island with perhaps the most ominous backstory: Hart Island.

Hart Island has been variously employed as a prison, a workhouse, and currently as NYC's potter's field. The work is done by prisoners from Rikers Island. Otherwise, access is limited to the family of those who are buried there and by special appointment. In the past few years, there's been considerable movement on multiple fronts to open the island up, both to family and friends who may have a loved one there, as well as to the public as a park and important part of New York City's past.

Thing was, not everyone in my group knew its history as we paddled past. The weather was gloomy. We saw white stones laid out in a cross pattern on a hillock. The chimney of the old power plant (or crematorium) stood out in the middle.

"This place is creepy," said MM, after we'd paddled nearly half a mile in silence.

At the southern tip of the island was a marker, "Marker 46", which we'd identified earlier on the chart in our pre-float briefing.

We took a little rest, and noted that the current was still flowing northwards considerably - a flood tide from the city.

We were about halfway through our plan. Little did we know how weird things would get - weirder than paddling past a graveyard of unclaimed dead.

As we paddled north up the channel between City Island and Hart Island, we spotted some figures walking on a large pile of rocks, which turned out to be Rat Island. Rat Island is the only privately owned island in New York City, purchased a few years ago by someone, apparently a Swiss man.

On Rat Island was a news crew from Switzerland shooting some sort of interview of the man. We talked with his friends while they wrapped up. They were impressed we we out paddling, and invited us to land on the beach in front of their house, just across the water. It wasn't clear which house was theirs, but we aimed in the general direction.

As we approached, we saw flickers of water splashing, and little heads . . .and big orange floats. There was some kind of SCUBA class going here, in 54F water.

We landed at the beach and walked up to talk to the guys on shore running the SCUBA class. There was Mike, and "Uncle Vinnie", and a couple of other guys. Mike was a former NYPD diver who, after the tragedy of 9/11, had moved out of New York City for a more peaceful life . . .in Newtown, CT. These kids were in the Boy Scout troop there, and he'd talked to an old diving buddy with a shop in the Bronx and put together the class.

They had a pit fire going on the beach, and a hot water kettle for hot chocolate. They shared their hospitality and it was most welcome. We weren't cold but we weren't warm either. A couple of hours in cool, gloomy air had taken its toll.

After eating a small lunch and warming up at the fire, we said our farewells and headed back. MM took a couple of rolls using her Greenland paddle, partly to practice rolling in a drysuit. Onwards we went.

The tide was much lower now and I checked out a couple of passages that were closed now.

We saw those swans - and a bunch of juveniles. They perked up at our approach, slightly territorial. Darn Rock-Roll music! Bunch of punks.

I blame the parents. Kidding!

At the end of the day, once we'd packed up and got into dry clothes, the puffy gray sky suddenly lit up, like a light switch. As far as we could tell, the sun had finally dropped below the cloud layer, and now instead of being blocked it was reflected all over the city. A fierce orange glow overtook us. 

I have to say, this cowgirl is of an age when glowing orange clouds were the stuff of atomic nightmares, but all the same, it sure was pretty, and a great way to end the day.