Sailing with 'Sophisticated Lady'

As I sit here pondering my first line, I am filled with overlapping and endless images of our journey up the Hudson River back to Toronto. This email has been a long time coming and so much has happened since that time. It does seem like a trip we took sometime late last year! Funny how the memory works, things that seem so large, real and fleshy, can at the same time feel like something you did in another life.

As soon as we hit the shore in Toronto life slipped into high gear and took on a new feel. Gone were the long, sun baked Caribbean days. Instead we leapt into the fast moving city, marina life, day charters, and being near family and friends again. This is a long and convoluted way of explaining why it has taken so long to catch up on our logs!

Traversing the Rivers enroute to Lake Ontario

Now, lets back track to a time long ago, a time on a narrow winding river. When one leaves New York City it is with sadness and also a tiny, shadowy sense of relief. The excitement, the drama and the constant circus of people and sensory overload will soon be over. Its like spending the day at the carnival as a child. God, you love it there! The spectacle, the unknown people, sounds and smells. They filled your head, heart and every fiber of your being, leaving no room for anything as mundane as your everyday life. As you leave with a belly full of sweets and your head swimming with the joys and adventures of the day, you are somewhat relieved to return to the simplicity of your life. The everydayness of it and your familiar routines holds a new value in its comfortable sameness.

Ashley on deck enjoying the peacefulness of the rivers

That is how I felt as we let the mooring ball go and the city line of New York fell behind us. The comfort of the rivers awaits us. I so enjoy the safety and calmness they offer me. The ocean passages always hold vast expanses of the unknown and unexpected. Anything could and does happen and every hour brings the potential for boredom, calm, excitement or challenge. Going down the canal system is a smorgasbord of exotic new dishes to be tried and old favorites that you love, all laid out before your eyes as you drift by, nibbling on each dish that inspires you.

The river is one of my favorite parts of our giant commute. It is a truly beautiful trip filled with scenic country side and lovely towns. As we begin our journey from New York to Toronto I wonder about this vast 524 miles of meandering river called the NY State Canal system. They have been actively trying for the past 3 decades to change the image and focus of this water system. They have been transforming it from a freight system to a major tourist attraction. This summer alone, there are over 150 different events and festivals along its banks! Every time we come to this part of the journey, I long for more time. For the chance to leisurely wind our way down the river stopping in each town and spending days exploring its unique history and character. You really could spend a whole summer making this part of the trip and still never see all it offers.

Traveling the canal system and going up and down the 35 locks is really akin to stepping back in time. The banks are lined with quiet rural settings, never ending train tracks and dotted with villages and towns steeped in tradition and history. When the locks opened in 1825 they were the engineering marvel of the day. They were nick named "Clinton's Ditch" after Governor Clinton. He envisioned and built this vast waterway linking the Atlantic to the Great Lakes. He fought long and hard to make his vision a reality, most mocked his dream and were strongly opposed due to the magnitude of this project

. As we slowly motor our way down this seemingly endless canal system, it is hard to envision it as it began. It was originally only a 4 foot ditch that carried shallow barge traffic pulled by mules on the banks. I have seen the smokey dim photos of this era and it seems such a rough, physical time. A time of hard labour and modest lives of a solid, dense nature. I peer down some of the older, narrower sections and I conjure up images of sweaty, dirty men, shouting and grunting as they load boxes onto the dark, wet and bulky barges. The over-worked and under-fed mules waiting on the banks dreading the slippery mud and feats of strength soon required of them. My images lack any women because it seems such a male place of muscular strength, metal and gears, of fast loud water newly trapped and reined in. But I know they were there, carrying more then their weight as women always seem to do.

On Clinton's first trip down the river he brought 2 barrels of water from Lake Erie and emptied it into the ocean at New York. It was called "The Marriage of the Waters". I love that romantic name and the image it conjures in my mind of salt and fresh water swirling together, united, but never losing their own identity and properties. A man-made link between two separate worlds, once strangers but now combined.

Barges filled with goods soon journeyed the canals and locks and thriving "canal towns" appeared all along its route. It founded a chain of cities and villages across the state. The canals brought unheard of prosperity and development to the areas surrounding them. As we make our way to our first tiny town to step our mast, I am filled with a sense of pride for the men and women of this time, for their vision, hard work and spirit. It permeates the fields & the towns and the many empty and crumbling factories that pass by like a life size spool of historic film. I feel a deep sense of privilege to be able to follow this historic trade route that made NY the Empire State that it became. The motto of the NY Canal system is "Cruise the Past. Unlock the Adventure". I think it is a brilliant piece of marketing. As you enter each lock and descend, it opens the door to a new place and time on the other side.

Vera and Garth on Deck in Haverstraw Bay

JD having fun keeping an eye on everything

Our passengers on this voyage are all new to the River, they are bursting with excitement at the thrill of manning the locks and the discoveries to be made along the way. JD, Edye and Vera were experienced boaters (JD having just completed a circumnavigation aboard the 'Picton Castle'!) and Garth was more then eager to learn. One of the first things they realized is that the river is teaming with floating logs and debris at this time of year and the helmsman must be ever alert for hazards to avoid. We soon work as a team with someone marking the charts as we navigate the river, another at the helm and the rest keeping an eye open for logs and enjoying the sights. It is a beautiful sunny day as we make our way up the river. Our first stop and anchorage for the night will be Haverstraw Bay. Last year we stayed at this bay and it is a lovely, quiet anchorage nestled along side a huge park area filled with lush lawns, walking paths and forests of old trees to shade you while you rest. As you sit amongst all this flourishing green, listening to the birds chirp and croon it is very hard to realize you are only 25 miles North of the bustle and hustle of New York City. What a difference this small distance makes.

Terri & Rick at Haverstraw Bay

Somewhere along the way I learned that over 73% of the people in NY State live within 2 miles of these water ways. It is hard to believe because they never seem crowded, built-up or over run. I guess just the sheer distance the rivers cover allows quaint charming villages to leisurely spread out and stretch their wings with no boundaries to brush against. I read there are over 50 regional wineries, famous battlefields, one of the most significant trail systems in the country for walking & biking (over 220 miles!) and excellent fishing all along our route. It really seems to have something for everyone all along its shores and the pull to slow down, to wander amongst this abundance is palatable.

We dock early the next afternoon to begin stepping the mast at Castleton. This is where we take down our 65 foot mast and support it on brackets placed on deck. We have to do this because there are over 306 railroad and highway bridges that cross the canals. Some of them only leave us a 2 inch space for our wind generator blades to pass under and they gently ting, ting as we scoot under, ducking our heads in sympathy! The railway tracks follow the rivers and we have a constant companion riding the rails along side us. The sight and sound of the trains seems to echo from the past and somehow brings comfort and calm. This is their territory, of rolling hills, curves and cliffs, and villages perched along the banks. The river and its ebb and flow is ours. Together we seem to symbolize the oldest modes of transportation used to travel and explore this country.

Our mast is firmly secured and we are ready to hit the locks. Usually we are having to go through these 35 locks in the rain and the cold but the weather is wonderfully hot and sunny. We coach everyone on what to expect and man them with boat hooks, gloves (for the lock wall goo) and lines to hold tightly too. Each lock house and lock master is tucked into the surrounding landscape. They are often charming white buildings fringed by picturesque gardens and forests. They all have exquisitely manicured lawns and only the most friendly and cheery men are awarded the title of lock master. They always greet us with smiles and helpful hints. They all volunteer to call the next lock and have them ready for our arrival.

Rising up in the locks

I peer down into the swirling water as the lock begins to fill and I notice a pair of ducks and their twelve tiny chicks casually swimming around our hull. I guess we are not the only creatures making wise use of these locks to get from place to place. Before long we are in the rhythm of the lock dance. The in and out and up and down that fills our days as we traverse the river.

Terri, Vera and Edye piloting the river

The defining moment of each lock passage is when the massive steel doors screech and slowly begin to open. You get your first glimpse of the beauty that awaits on the far side of the dark, thick metal wall. The engine murmurs and we escape the wet, slime covered inner belly of the lock and leave the groaning, dripping gentle beast to its thirst.

Houses atop sheer cliffs on the river walls

Each day is filled with new charms and attractions as we enter and exit each lock and watch the ever changing landscape flowing past us. Each night is spent quietly tied up along a lock wall watching the sunset on a unique and fresh panorama. Ashley loves that land is so near and she can run and run at the end of each day. We all enjoy the rural settings and blossoming life of each stop and sleep well after a day of lock riding and novel sights.

One of many of the working river boats

Terri & Ashley enjoying the parks

Now that's a lighthouse!

'Sophisticated Lady' at rest for the night

Quite a few of the towns and villages along the river proudly boast of their accomplishments. Rochester is "the flour capital of the world", from 1873 Newark was considered "the rose capital of the U.S.A". Seneca Falls houses the National Women's Hall of Fame and is the birth place of the Women's Rights Movement. Waterford holds the famous "Tugboat Round-up" every year on its banks and WestPoint Military Academy stands tall and proud on the massive banks of the river. Chittenango is the birthplace of author, Frank Baum, who penned the world famous "Wizard of Oz". Waterford combines a series of five locks, where we are lifted and lowered the greatest height (169ft) in the shortest distance(1 1/2 miles) of any canal in the world.

As we journey down the river system we revel in the accomplishments of those who came before us and give a thankful nod to the dreams of men and the wonders of nature. Here they seem to co-exist and we can pluck the juiciest of each as we float towards Lake Ontario and home.

Before we know it we are in Oswego, the town right on the edge of the Erie canal and Lake Ontario. This is the place where our sail boat regains her ability to sail. She is eager to cast off the lines that bind her wings and to take flight across the wide open waters. The lights and cityscape of Toronto is a dim vision in our heads that will become clearer and clearer as each wave rolls along our hull. The taste of home and all its glory is on our tongues. Let us throw off our ties and cross this last body of blue and end yet another epic journey. And begin but another.

Arrival at long last... Toronto!!