A Word About Communicating in Canada

. . . What to Expect

From the Chesapeake on, the farther north we’ve traveled, the harder it’s been to call, send emails or post to the blog. It’s really frustrating. That’s likely to get worse in Canada.

We’ve caused some of that by clinging to our grandfathered-in Verizon unlimited data plan because we are data hogs. Snort. Snort. Verizon offers an International Add-on they’ll sell us IF we change plans. Once we’re back in the U.S., they’ll sell us a WiFi hot-spot IF we change plans. Even the Verizon reps we've talked to said that if it were their own phone, they wouldn't change from the unlimited data plan.

When we reach Canada, we’ll shut off our smart phones to prevent expensive roaming charges. We’ve read about alternatives and hope they work. Whether they do or not, we’ll definitely be using WiFi connections for the laptop at restaurants, marinas, wherever we can.

If you don’t hear from us for a while, please understand why.

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. 

New York, New York is a Helluva Town

. . . THE BRONX IS UP AND THE BATTERY'S DOWN

We'll vouch for it being a helluva town. After almost 4,000 miles and nine months to get here, including a three-month stall out in the Keys, we finally made it to New York City.

The view of Manhattan at the southern tip or the Battery. We'd always heard that Manhattan was an island between the Hudson River and the East River, but didn't know that the East River was partially man-made.

John, Great Kills Yacht Club harbor host, loaned us his MTA card to use on public transportation to reach the city. What made the biggest impression on Kent were the huge masses of people and how efficiently public transportation moved them wherever they needed to go. 

For three days, we took taxis, the Staten Island railroad, the free Staten Island ferry, and then subways all over town.

A main transportation hub of Manhattan is Grand Central Station with subways and trains running constantly. Kent was amazed that the subway system was as much as three levels below the street, such as at Grand Central.

On second thought, public transportation made the second biggest impression. The biggest impression was made by our Grayline Tours bus driver who managed to navigate bumper-to-bumper New York traffic, moving around trucks and other buses with just a hair's distance between them, and stay on schedule. Kent told him it was worth the price of the ticket just to see him drive through Manhattan.

A few of the many places we visited were:

World Trade Center, 9/11 Site

The new World Trade Center is nearing completion.  The 9/11 Memorial, at its foot, draws somber, thoughtful crowds, as will the 9/11 Museum when construction is done.

On the outside wall of Fire Station No. 10, the first responders to 9/11, is this large plaque “dedicated to those who fell and to those who carry on.”

South Street Seaport

The South Street Seaport in lower Manhattan was hard hit by Hurricane Sandy with the Seaport Museum and many businesses still being repaired.  The storm didn’t appear to damage the Seaport’s ships, like the Peking, a huge commercial sailing ship built in 1911.

Central Park

Kent was impressed by how Central Park seemed well planned, very well designed , yet appeared as if nature made it that way. It was designed over 150 years ago by Frederick Olmsted who later laid out the Biltmore Estate grounds near Asheville.

Empire State Building

The Empire State Building was completed at the start of the Depression. The view from the 86^th floor showed us the Hudson River where we’d travel the next day. 

Carnegie Deli

Our final meal in Manhattan was at the Carnegie Deli, home of big New York food. We had a Bacon Whoopee sandwich (Jane lived to tell about it) and their Famous Rueben sandwich (Kent). Each sandwich fed us for three meals. The photo doesn’t do justice to their hugeness. Our entire table laughed when they were brought out. Of course, they ordered food just as large.

Along the Jersey Shore to New York City

. . . SAILING IN THE ATLANTIC OCEAN

Our Atlantic crossing took us by the Jersey shore for two days. It surprised us that Jersey was non-stop beach from the bottom of the state to the top, with a few gambling casinos in between. We’d expected a few beaches here and there, not the Florida-like shoreline we saw.

Down Time gets fueled up before leaving Cape May. Carl and Dottie had been on the Loop just a couple of months when we met them. 

Three boats left Utsch’s Marina in Cape May early Saturday -- the trawler, Down Time; 30-foot sailboat, R&R; and Carina. Winds blew from the west, with gentle three-foot swells. Although those wind and wave conditions varied in our two days on the Atlantic, they were never a cause for alarm. Thank you to everyone who crossed their fingers for us.

Peter and Cynthia on R&R, a 30-foot Irwin, had spent the winter in the Bahamas and were returning to New York State.

Down Time stopped early that first day at Atlantic City, while R&R and Carina sailed on another 30 miles or so to Barnegat Inlet farther north, a 12-hour day. Blame the long day for our adventures in anchoring. Lesson learned: we will be more careful NOT to drop anchor at the edge of the anchorage and then let out enough rode (the line that connects the anchor to the boat) so that the boat stops in the channel -- especially when a towboat is pushing a barge through that said channel.

Strong currents and shallow water in Barnegat Inlet created standing waves at the foot of the lighthouse.

The best thing about the day was the unexpected sunset concert by a bagpipe player.

More of the Same

The next day, our friends on Down Time speeded up to catch up and pass us. Trawlers can do that, even though they pay the price at the fuel dock. Both sailboats slowly motored the entire way in light to no winds to Great Kills Yacht Club on Staten Island.

R&R heeled over from the tide rushing out the inlet the next morning, not the wind.

Great Kills = Great Hosts, Great Place

Carina was able to dock at the yacht club because it made limited space available to Loopers, and they luckily had room for us.  After looking at marinas or mooring areas close to Manhattan, we decided the cost was too much ($4-plus per foot of boat per night is average) and they were too uncomfortable --rocky rolly from currents and hundreds of ferryboats.  Staten Island where the yacht club is located is fairly close to Manhattan – close enough it seemed to us.

Over 100 years old, the club was described as a working club, just like Privateer. Klaus, a 35-year member, told of some of its colorful history that at one time in the '30s included the Mafia. Only in New York! (And probably Chicago, LA, . . .)

The decision to stay at Great Kills Yacht Club was a good one. We met friendly people and found a club similar in many ways to ours in Chattanooga. The boat and Squirt were safe when we were gone. The area is beautiful with a strong sense of community. And it was just a train and ferry ride away from Manhattan.

John is the official Looper organization harbor host for Great Kills. He was quick to offer information, rides for fuel and to the train, and other help.

Recovering from Hurricane Sandy

Signs of hurricane damage are still around. Along New Jersey’s shore, hotels and restaurants were mostly repaired, although many backhoes and much scaffolding was in sight. The famous Atlantic City Boardwalk that was destroyed has been rebuilt and is welcoming visitors again. TV ads run frequently to let people know that New Jersey is open for business.

It’s not just New Jersey. Surrounded by land on almost all sides, New York's Great Kills Harbor couldn’t withstand hurricane force winds. Boats were mangled. Docks were torn apart. But the people there and elsewhere in the area are resilient. Yacht club members have put their docks back together better than ever. When a repaired boat is put back in the water, it's a time for celebration at the yacht club. They still have quite a few celebrations to look forward to.

Up the Chesapeake, Down the Delaware

. . . ONE'S A BOATER'S PARADISE. THE OTHER IS. . . NOT

Most people have heard that the Chesapeake Bay is a sailor's paradise. After getting past the big waves and winds at its broadest, southern-most point, we agree. It's a place we'll return to, maybe even bringing a smaller boat here to do more sailing and gunk-holing (shallow-water exploring).

Hardly anyone has heard about Delaware Bay. It's sort of the Rorshach test view of the Chesapeake, and it's not boater friendly. But Loopers have to travel up the length of the Chesapeake and then down the length of the Delaware on our journey.

Sunset on our first day on the Chesapeake, a 50-mile travel day. The landscape began to look more like Tennessee. Winds were 25 mph and gusting, and we had uncomfortable following seas (seas that hit us from behind the boat and at an angle). We used to like following seas until we had heavier versions on the turnaround trip on North Carolina's Alligator River and on the first part of the Chesapeake.

When the weather is good, we anchor out. When not, we find a marina or really protected anchorage. The weather hasn't been very good lately. After anchoring out the first night, we learned of a front with high winds and rain heading our way and that led us to discover Ingram Bay Marina, a small, relaxed marina just south of the Potomac River. Think campground and not stuffy resort marina. Their loaner car is a red pickup truck. We were soooo happy to have a loaner car, errrrh. . . truck to get provisions.

Captain Billy (left) and Jane share something in common -- both graduated from the University of Alabama and are still huge football fans. Captain Billy and his wife, Mary, own and manage the marina and some 17 acres of farm and field around it. He has a busy fishing charter business, too. He is one of the most helpful, sincere, positive people we've met on our trip. We felt at home at Ingram Bay Marina and will be back. 

A swallow claimed the boat line to the dock next to Carina. He/she was there night and day when not out hunting bugs.

After leaving Ingram Bay, we came across several wonders along the Chesapeake, such as this gigantic channel mark for ocean-going vessels. That was its original purpose. It's used most often as a cormorant wing-drying station with an osprey family in the penthouse apartment.

We thought these poles were a derelict dock, but Captain Billy told us they are a pound net to catch fish. Look closely to see the nets strung among the poles. A fish swims into the outside net and is funneled by a series of nets into the center. One of the oldest ways of catching fish, pound nets were used by Native Americans for centuries. Pound nets are common in the area around the Potomac River.

The number and variety of lighthouses were a surprise. This lighthouse was on the way to the Solomons after leaving Ingram Bay. These lighthouses were staffed years ago. We think we know what the little house was used for that's perched half off the platform. What do you think?

Friends of ours described the Chesapeake as being "like a mirror" when they crossed it. We didn't understand at first. It was pretty rough to us at the start. Then, the Chesapeake showed us it could be calm. A third of the way down in this picture is a horizon. The water is so calm and perfectly reflecting the sky that the two blend into one.

U.S. Naval Academy midshipmen stow the jib after a sail on Chesapeake Bay. Annapolis, where the academy is located, is about midway up the bay. The cargo ship behind them is anchored and is no danger.

After Tropical Storm Andrea moved through the Annapolis area, we met up with Joey and Jim (who are sandwiching Kent), friends we met in Marathon. They left the Keys to sail to the Bahamas for about five weeks. When we passed through, they kindly showed us Annapolis, Md., part of their favorite sailing area. Days later they took us on a tour of Cape May, N.J., near their home.  We met at the tiki hut at Boot Key Harbor and were in many conga lines together there. They clean up so well!

Annapolis is all about the harbor and being on the water. It's about state politics because it's the state capitol. And it's about the U.S. Naval Academy.

The Chesapeake is the place to go to see all sorts of sailboats, large or small, wooden or fiberglass, ketch or sloop or cutter.

After leaving the Annapolis area, we sailed a little farther up the Chesapeake and turned right (East) onto the C&D Canal. The first stop was Chesapeake City, a very pretty anchorage and town on the man-made ditch between Chesapeake Bay and Delaware Bay. Another rain front was predicted to pass through.

Kent had a line out for crab during the rains at Chesapeake City when he caught this catfish. As happy as he looks, he released the little fellow a minute later. 

Most marinas are nice Motel 6s, some a nice Marriott. They are just a place to stop on the way. The marinas that help us in our travels like Ingram Bay Marina on the Chesapeake and Delaware City Marina are those we value. Corey and Delaware City Dockmaster Tim turned Carina on the dock to help us leave easily the next morning. Tim also holds an evening get-together about how easy -- or hard -- it will be to travel on Delaware Bay the next day. Most
marinas don't provide advice like that.

After months of Loop travel alone (after Hamp and Denise stayed at Thunderbolt Marina), we finally met a couple of other Loopers -- TerrMar IV and Down Time at the Delaware City Marina. Carina is the peanut in back. Dockmaster Tim also helped us get rid of Carina's ICW mustache from Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina water.

Delaware Bay has the reputation of being a nasty piece of water to cross. Tim said that no one would have white knuckles if they sailed/motored down the Delaware the next day after we arrived. He was right. Not only did we have a tidal assist in speed, but the wind and waves helped, too. At one brief point in the 50+ mile day we reached 12 miles an hour (the number in the upper left corner). Typical traveling speed is 6.5 or so. 

Another striking lighthouse, this one on the Delaware Bay.

In one 50-mile day, we traveled the entire length of the Delaware Bay, arriving at Utsch's Marina (pronounced Uh-chiz) in Cape May, New Jersey, near our friends Jim and Joey. Live eels, anyone?! Cape May is a huge fishing area, and eels are great bait, so they say.

Some things we learned about Cape May are: The Abbey is one of hundreds of beautiful Victorian buildings and homes in Cape May. The community covenants make sure new buildings conform to the look and feel of the Victorian era.

Victorian-looking homes along the harbor fit in with the older homes in downtown Cape May. 

Cape May is the oldest seashore community in the U.S. with beautiful golden sand, blue water and warm sun . . . after May, of course.

The Cape May Lighthouse became operational in 1859 and is still active to alert mariners today. It's a more traditional lighthouse than the others in the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays.

By the time you read this, we will have left Cape May and entered the Atlantic Ocean, our first outside crossing. After a stop or two, our ultimate destination is New Yawk City -- as the salsa commercial says. 

We've crossed the shallow Gulf. This will be our first step into the deep, unpredictable Atlantic. Please wish us luck. Whether we need it or not, we truly thank you for it.

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