Black River

I'm a little behind in blogging. Here are some details on a trip Mr. Cowgirl and I took with our mutual friend, EY the "canoe girl" a couple of weeks ago, in mid-April.

Mr. Cowgirl knows EY from whitewater paddling, where she's more likely to be paddling a C1 instead of a kayak. Anyone who can do with one blade what the Cowgirl has learned to do with two is pretty impressive.

On this day, however, we took it easy and explored a stretch of water one might normally overlook - and drive past without a second thought: the Black River, in New Jersey.

Putting in.

We'd been fuzzy about our weekend paddling plans. The weather was predicted to be amazing, and while I checked the tide tables and wind for sea ideas, the mister kept on top of reported river levels for whitewater opportunities. Everything was coming up dry, and we were considering some lake or interior waters, just to be out, when EY called and suggested the Black River.

The Black River.

The River is pretty far out in New Jersey, nearly as far as the Cowgirl's current day job. We drove out on I-80, continuing past Parsippany and I-287, to take route 206 south a ways, eventually coordinating with EY a couple of potential ideas: one to put in at one spot and shuttle from another, the second to put in and take out at the same place - a dirt parking lot at the end of a trail, maybe 150 yards portage to a low bridge with a small mud pile we could put in at.

And we're off!

We observed there was some non-trivial current: not enough to be a problem, but enough that we'd be moving noticeably if we didn't paddle. We opted to go against the current, figuring we could come back with it. This mean leaning low to pass under the bridge, and later, we encountered a second bridge (which was route 206) that we couldn't pass under. So, we went back, with the current, floating as much as paddling.

We'd brought the Grumman canoe along instead of kayaks. Someone has posted online about hosting a trip later, and had said short boats only. We're happy to say our Grumman 17 worked out quite well!

Dare we go there?

Yes we dare! Actually the return.

Duck!

EY took plenty of pictures and posted them. Also kept track of mileage and our route.

Paddling is full of 'grammable opportunties!

Looking ahead.

Mr. Cowgirl.

As we made our way down the winding river, we crossed first one and then another beaver dam, getting speed to beach halfway over it, then taking turns getting back in to complete our madness.

We saw a lot of birds - mostly red-chested blackbirds, I forget their exact nomenclature. EY spotted an egret.

Where's EY?

Clouds have rolled in.

At a couple of points we decided to see what the panorama mode on the cameraphone would do if used while the canoe was moving.

WhoooOOOOooo.

Like a visual Theremin.

The weather was the most interesting part of this trip. Being mid-April, we were still concerned with water temperature. I even brought my drysuit. However, the air temperature was over 80 F and sunny, so I just wore base layers - rolled up for comfort.

I'm glad I wore them though, and that I had a jacket. Later in our trip, the wind picked up and clouds rolled in, and we even got a spattering of rain. I put on the jacket just to block the wind. Yet, by the end of our journey, the sky had cleared and it was warm again. We'd come full circle, weather-wise.

Consider the lilies.

Dam it! Beavers.

Eventually, we came to a beaver home. We couldn't spot beavers, though we did watch for them. We swept gently by and proceeded just a little ways further, before turning around.

Anybody home?

In revisiting some of these pictures, I keep expecting the Blair Witch to pop up. Aye the moors. . .

There's EY!

A fallen tree.

On our way back.

As we came to the end, we all remarked on what a fun find this little river was. None of us had been especially ambitious in paddling plans - we were all in a mood for something chill, and that was exactly what we got. A remote area, a little wildlife, endless and changing vistas: all of this was in just a couple of hours paddling, less than a 90 minute drive away. 

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.

A Walk Around the Block

I was ready to cancel it the night before. I drafted one email, then another, then another.

Let's go. We shouldn't go, sorry to say. Let's meet in the morning and decide.

The weather had been off and on all week. Saturday was meant to be beautiful all day but turned spooky in the afternoon, while some other friends were on a circumnavigation. Sunday was meant to be terrible, but the morning was nice enough that at the shop we took four clients out to the Stature of Liberty and back. Leading into Monday, there was a keyhole of good weather that moved forward, then back, then not.

Thunderstorms. Chance of rain, High humidity, hugh dew point, high temperatures. I crash-coursed synoptic weather reading just to get a glimmer of hope.

The morning of, the skies looked to be clearing. The predicted weather improved. We met at the boathouse and agreed it was on: a Labor Day circumnavigation.

Paddling Past Midtown.

There were four of us: IL, BP, ST, and myself. BP and ST are strong paddlers but new to sea kayaking, and had not circumnavigated before. To me, these are always more fun with people who have not done it already.

Approaching Lower Manhattan.

We sped down pretty quickly, leaving Inwood at about an hour to an a hour and a half after low tide at Battery. We made the distance in about two hours, with minimal water breaks along the way.

Jersey City in the Distance.

One skillset I bring to the Inwood crowd is familiarity with the traffic at midtown and below. Near Inwood, there are no ferries to speak of, and only the occasional barge or ship, and sometimes a Circle Line or similar vessel. Midtown and below, there are plenty of water taxis, ferries, and recreational boats, not to mention tugs and ships, especially in the harbor itself.

The bigger the vessel the easier it is to avoid a problem. Just stay out of their way. They won't change their course much.

Miss Liberty Departs Battery.

As we came around Battery, we went a little wide so that it wasn't a blind corner. This kept us away from the seawalls as well. We were remarkably blessed with little traffic, and a nearly windless day of smooth water. We waited for a couple of water taxis to pass, and then asked Miss Liberty when she was leaving.

"Now," she said. We waited by Pier A while she took off for Liberty Island.

Governors Island.

On a different trip, we might have ventured around Governors Island, but not today.

Paddling Past the Tourists at Battery.

Rounding Battery, we passed the Statue Cruises, but little else, until we saw the Staten Island ferry. People were still disembarking, so we radioed that we were passing astern. We made a ferry crossing to Brooklyn and got out at Pier 5 to take a pee break, enjoy the sights, have a snack, and talk to some folks we know. Pretty soon though, we got on our way.

Eastward . . .er Northward Ho!

I'd expected our most interesting water to be at Battery. Instead, as we passed under the Manhattan Bridge, a passing water taxi kicked up a bunch of wake that got reflected off a seawall, and suddenly we were in the chop! It was beautiful, shaking us about, up and down, as we paddled forward past Wallabout Bay and the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

Lower Manhattan from the East.

Miss Piggy!

As we passed the Navy Yard, this Army Corps of Engineers ship came out. A friend of mine says she is called the Miss Piggy and lays docking barges for the NY Waterway taxis.

Whatever You Do, Don't Look Back.

We went onwards. It's a shame that the East River is the shortest leg of the tour. It's kind of interesting, and not a part of the waters around Manhattan I get to paddle in often.

Paddling Along Queens.

The East River gets short shrift sometimes compared to the Hudson. It's not as wide, it doesn't go as far, and the industrial history of Queens and Brooklyn mean that for a long time, it was a dirty, fast-moving mess. Now, it still is, but less so, and pockets of revitalization dot the shores opposite Manhattan and the FDR Drive.

Lower East Side.

Queens, Plissken-style.

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad.

Eventually, the United Nations building looms, marking 42nd street, and the start of Roosevelt Island - a narrow two mile needle of land in the middle of the river. The western channel is faster, but we wanted to stop in Astoria before proceeding further.

Skerrey Times at the United Nations.

What's That? Empire State Building? Let's Have a Cookie.

Around here the humidity really started to get to me. It was 86 F with a dew point in the low 70s. I drank more water, wet my hat, and managed as best I could, but it was going to get worse after lunch.

World Trade Center.

Weather Rolling In.

Gantry Plaza.

The downside of urban renewal is that some things go away. This PepsiCo sign, for example, is scheduled for demolition. It's a great landmark from the Manhattan side. Apparently it's an eyesore for the new development behind it in Queens.

Pepsi Cola Hits the Spot. Just a Nickel, Not a Lot.

At last we pulled in to Hallets Cove - a broad nook under the corner of Hell Gate in Astoria. There are several ways to run this trip, and this stop is a common one because of the problem everyone faces: the Harlem and East Rivers run in opposite directions, and after riding the flood up the East River, your choices are: cross and paddle against the Harlem, or wait until the Harlem starts to change directions and then cross. Most people do the latter.

The Barn at Hallets Cove.

What we paddled: a Valley Skerrey, a Valley Argonaut, a WS Tempest 170, and a Necky Chatham 16.

Photo 1.

Apparently I am the only one who brings a camera on these trips!

Photo 2.

We waited about an hour and a half, having lunch, using the loo and getting coffee at a local diner, resting, talking. We were feeling good though, and the weather was very calm, so we thought, "why not go through Hell Gate?"

Turning to Hell Gate. Pedestrian Bridge to Randalls in Distance.

None of us had ever been. Hell Gate generally refers to the waters we would pass through, but Hell Gate proper is a narrow straight running north to the east of our position. It's a constriction, and as water passes through it based on the tides, it cane get very fast, up to five knots. It is also very uneven, meaning there are boils and vortices on a good day; on a bad day it may as well be the waters off Tierra del Fuego.

A Passing Barge.

On we went, under the RFK Jr (nee' Triborough) bridge and then the Hell Gate Bridge. I was a little odd to realize that just a couple of weeks earlier I'd been on a train crossing via the latter.

Into the Gate!

Hell Gate last just about a mile. With the current and conditions, it was, frankly, more like Heck Gate. There were some boils and vortices and weird eddies, but nothing terrible. After Hell Gate Bridge, we looked ahead and behind us, and once traffic was clear, crossed to Randalls Island to veer into the mouth of the Bronx Kill.

After Hell Gate, We Bronx Kill.

On through the kill we went.

Coming About.

And then on out, to the familiar waters of the Harlem., where we paddled at slack to Macombs Dam Bridge.

Counting Bridges.

The tide eventually turned in our favor near High Bridge.

High, Washington, and Hamilton.

A Short Break.

After a short break, we let Circle Line and Harbor Classic Line (not pictured) vessels pass us.

Circle Line.

Under the Broadway Bridge and into the more scenic part of the Harlem. This stretch was more properly Spuyten Duyvil Creek, until it was blown up, expanded, and made proper for 19th century shipping.

Under Broadway.

Past the Marble Hill station, in a neighborhood that is still technically part of Manhattan even though it is not an island and not part of the island.

The End In Sight.

Eventually we came back out to the Hudson, almost where we started, at the opposite end of the day.

Hudson.

Unlike a certain well-known mass circumnav, we did not have a landing party. However we were met by a man in a mask.

Club member LL, wearing a mask he found floating in the river. Now how'd that get in there?

Welcome, Travelers!

All in all it was another great trip. It was only my fourth circumnav, and just the second time I planned and organized one myself. It was a strong group, and two hadn't done this before. I love seeing new eyes on a familiar route.

After discussion with the group, I tried a couple of things that I had not done before. First, we landed at the still-new Brooklyn Bridge Park, on a small beach near Pier 5 that I only learned about recently. Second, we went through Hell Gate. Now that I know the tides a bit better, I might consider variations on that plan, such as taking a detour out into the Upper East River.