Happy Fourth of July and Surprises Along the Hudson

"Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Emma Lazrus, The New Colossus

. . . Happy Birthday, United States!

The first time we saw "The Lady" was as we traveled by Staten Island Ferry to Manhattan. We waited to share her picture with you until we had one taken from Carina's deck as we traveled north up to the Hudson River. What lucky timing that we can share it with you near the Fourth of July.

Unfortunately, we weren't able to visit the Statue of Liberty because Hurricane Sandy swept up New York Harbor, badly damaging Liberty Island and forcing Lady Liberty to be closed to the public. It was still thrill enough to sail by her. As you can see, the statue is fine. Workers were hurriedly repairing the grounds for Liberty Island's reopening on July 4.

Immigrants from around the world first entered the U.S. almost a century ago at Ellis Island, a stone's throw away from Liberty Island. Also badly damaged by the hurricane, Ellis Island is awaiting repair until funds are earmarked in the U.S. Park Service budget.

Surprises along the Hudson 

Although we left Great Kills Harbor early, early in the morning, by the time we crossed under the Verazanno-Narrows Bridge, passed Liberty Island and Ellis Island and traveled the rest of the Upper New York Harbor, rush hour was full on. Small ferries are one way people who live in New Jersey get to their work in New York City. We'd been told about the wakes for several weeks and were prepared by having everything in the cabin in bins or strapped down. That preparation helped with the constant ferry wakes. We weren't prepared for "The Beast" though.

"The Beast" is a passenger-carrying, big-engined, loud cigarette boat that seemed to deliberately get close to private boats like Carina and gun, creating an awful wake and making things we thought were strapped down fly around the cabin. Its passengers all screamed with delight. We screamed, too, just not with joy. Actually, we just gritted our teeth and kept on. Comparing notes later, other boaters who'd gone through the Manhattan part of the river said they'd experienced the same thing. Beware of boats with a mouthful of teeth painted on the bow.

The children's book, The Great Gray Bridge and the Little Red Lighthouse, was written in 1942, shortly after the George Washington Bridge was built. The lighthouse felt as though it had no further use now that the bridge was there. The bridge reassured the lighthouse that -- even though it is small -- it had an important role in keeping boat traffic safe.

Ten years later, officials tried to close and dismantle the lighthouse, but public uproar kept it open. The little red lighthouse at Jeffrey's Hook is now on the National Register of Historic Places.

The Beauty: People traveling here from East Tennessee will find the Hudson River, especially the Catskill Mountains, very familiar – trees, vegetation, animals. It could be because most mountains (not all) in New York State are in the northern end of the Appalachian mountain range. East Tennessee is in the southern end. We’ve looked out at the Catskills and felt as though we were home.

We’re seeing them in the summertime, of course. Winter is a different story. Snow is everywhere. Even the Hudson River freezes. Marinas close in October, remove docks from the water, and reopen in April.

Sights to See: Lighthouses are unusual on the Hudson River – unusually beautiful. This one was built in 1871.

The U.S. Military Academy (West Point) was built out of gray and black granite and graduates some 1,000 cadets each year, just as tough as that rock.  The academy is about 50 miles north of Manhattan.

Just up the river from West Point is the deepest point on the Hudson River – World’s End. The cartographer charting the river must have thought he’d reached the end of the world when the depth went from 35 feet to around 200.

Wonderful Villages: What brought us to Catskill, N.Y., was the need to lower our mast before entering the Erie Canal for points north. Like Norfolk, Catskill had an annual artist competition to decorate a symbol of its town. What else would Catskill choose but cats?

A favorite is Trading Spaces. The cat is locked in the bird cage with a yellow feather hanging from its mouth. One bird is holding the door shut, while the one on top has the key to the lock.

A Helping Hand from our Friends

We can’t say enough about Sid and Bonnie and the help they’ve given us the last two weeks. They have gotten us away from the boat, showing us their home state, here in front of the World War II Memorial in nearby Albany.

They drove us to Stockbridge, Massachusetts, one day to visit the Norman Rockwell Museum. Norman Rockwell painted many covers of the Saturday Evening Post and Look magazines that depicted ordinary, sometimes funny American life. We grew up with those paintings.

When the day came to lower the mast, it took only 90 minutes because Kent had prepared the boat well, removing the boom and loosening lines. He and Sid had spent the day before building the wooden deck supports for the mast in the summer heat.

Sid was back that day, too, to help tie the mast to the deck. Bonnie kept us all nourished and encouraged with egg salad sandwiches and her bubbly attitude. We could have done it without their help, but not nearly as fast or as well or as happily. We just can’t say enough in thanks to them.

So now we’re a gypsy boat – colorful with lots of items -- all on deck to trip over, sad to say. Carina even has a new mustache on the hull -- a Hudson River mustache from all the floods and mud.

New Day, New Plan

When we left Great Kills Harbor, people said, “Don’t rush. Wait until the Erie Canal reopens after the (recent) floods.” So we took our time at Catskill, waiting for the canal to reopen. The only problem was it rained every day. The worst was the day a “burst” – maybe a cloud burst? – hit part of the canal, resulting in severe damage to two locks and a death. The Erie Canal is now closed for weeks. We’d planned to take the Erie Canal halfway, turning north to reach Kingston, Canada, to start the Trent-Severn Waterway.

Like other Loopers, we have a new plan. Now the plan is to go up the Hudson River to the Champlain Canal and continue up the 100-mile length of Lake Champlain. At the top of the lake, we’ll clear customs into Canada. We’ll travel the Richelieu Canal to the St. Lawrence Seaway, go west for a short distance, and then into the Rideau Canal that will put us at . . . Kingston, Canada. Yes, it’s a little longer – about 10 days, several hundred miles and a gazillion locks longer. It’s all part of the adventure, though.