East bound and down

We are under way eastbound in Long Island Sound, bound for Port Jefferson. We wrapped up a nearly two week stay in Manhattan yesterday morning, and by the time the tide was favorable mid-afternoon, we were more than ready to vacate the Hudson amid the escalating wakes of the holiday weekend boating crowd.

Approaching the historic High Bridge aqueduct and its landmark water tower yesterday. We walked across this during our stay.

Most of the remainder of our stay consisted of shuttling back and forth to Washington Heights on the subway. Just to change things up a bit on the dining front, we stayed on the train all the way to the last stop at 207th one night so we could have a beer at the Tubby Hook Tavern, the final pub in the triumvirate of north end pubs, and then walk across the street for Thai food at Yummy Thai, which was a nice change but nothing special. It was only after we'd eaten that we discovered the Inwood Local Wine Bar & Beer Garden right next door, with 16 beers on tap. We've made a note for our next visit.

Tuesday was the exception to all the gallivanting about upper Manhattan. Our friends Stacey and Dave aboard Stinkpot were passing through town, and we agreed to meet them in Croton, where marinas and other shoreside services are both more accessible and more reasonably priced. We hoofed it over to Broadway and took the Bx7 bus a few stops north to the Marble Hill train station, where Metro North took us all the way to Croton. We had a very nice visit over takeout Sicilian pizza. It was a late evening by the time we returned to Vector, but it was great seeing them and catching up.

Inwood Local Wine Bar & Beer Garden.

Wednesday was too hot to want to get on the subway, or really anything else. In the relative cool of the morning I went ashore for a nice walk through Inwood Hill Park, and then we just spent the day on the boat with the AC running. We went ashore in the evening, after the worst had passed, and walked to the Park View for dinner. The food was good, they had several drafts, and we had the air-conditioned place mostly to ourselves.

Yesterday we heaved anchor at 3:15pm, just as the tide was changing on the Harlem. That put us at a tide level that allowed us to make the transit with our mast up, just by lowering all the antennas. We had the hook down in our usual spot in Manhasset Bay (map) just before 6pm, splashed the tender, and headed ashore to old standby Amalfi's for dinner. We picked up a few things at the Stop & Shop supermarket next door before heading home.

Stacey, Dave, Louise, and me in front of a red sunset at Croton-on-Hudson.

Today's tide did not become favorable until noon, and so I went ashore for a brief walk before we decked the tender. We weighed anchor at 11am, close to high tide, and headed over to the pump-out dock. Normally we just call the pump-out boat in this harbor, but today we also needed water. The dock is barely half Vector's length and so it was a tight squeeze; I'm sorry I did not snap a photo. We got it all done and were headed out of the harbor just as the tide became fair.

I still have not heard back from the boatyard. When I called on Friday they told me the production manager was still out, returning Tuesday. We'll probably be right here in Port Jefferson until we hear from them and have some sense of if and when they can get us in. [Update: We are anchored in Port Jefferson harbor (map), and had a pleasant dinner at Joey Z's.]

20th Nomadiversary

We are anchored in the Hudson River, in General Anchorage 17 of the Port of New York (map). This is a familiar spot for us since the closure of the W. 79th Street Boat Basin at the end of 2021. While we are actually anchored in New Jersey, just a little over a mile from where I went to high school, we are here because of the boat landing across the river at Dyckman Street, in the Inwood district of Manhattan, a neighborhood with which we are now thoroughly familiar.

The million-dollar view from our anchorage.

Exactly 20 years ago today, we closed the door on our last full-time fixed dwelling, a condominium unit in downtown San Jose, California, for a final time before setting off in our custom-built motor coach home, Odyssey, for which this blog is named. Odyssey was our full-time home for just a hair shy of a full decade, when we transitioned to the life aquatic aboard Vector.

I regret it now, but we were juggling so many things during the early days of bus life that I did not have the bandwidth to post here in the blog, even though I had previously taken steps to create it. It was a full three months before I started blogging in earnest, and though I made some vague reference to trying to backfill those three months, in reality they are lost to history. You can read my very first post from the road here, and if you click "Newer Post" at the bottom you can scroll through the whole blog. You'll have to click over 2,600 times to get back to this post.

It was raining when we set the hook, and this was our reward, a rainbow stretching from The Bronx to Manhattan.

The blog has evolved over those 2,600+ posts. Early on, we had no good way to generate and post map links, which came along later and went through some iterations including Mapquest and others before coalescing on the Google Maps links we use today. And we did not have many photos in the early days; when we did, they usually went into a separate post rather than inline in the text. The march of technology has made it all much easier.

On the bus, of course, I could not type under way, and I tried to post from every stop or two, lest I get behind. On the boat, it's much easier for me to do my typing at the helm, when we are under way in open water. Typing takes longer, because I am still maintaining a lookout and I can't even make it through a paragraph without scanning the horizon and the instruments, but the hours are long and so it works out. Good typing days are sometimes infrequent, and some posts now end up covering a span of two or three weeks. Also, Past Me sometimes annoys Present Me by omitting important details like whether or not a particular restaurant was any good, and so Present Me is including a lot more detail nowadays to avoid annoying Future Me when we come back to a place years later.

The day we arrived was also the blue supermoon, rising over The Cloisters, Fort Tryon Park, and Dyckman Landing. That's our neighbor, the tug Choptank, at left.

With two decades of nomadic experiences and memories, this blog is sometimes the only way we keep it all straight. Our memory plays tricks on us, but having it here in print can restore our sanity. An expression we sometimes use is that we drink to forget, but we blog to remember. In preparing to write this post today, I found myself reading a dozen or so old posts, in the way you can't stop yourself from reading those old notes you found while going through the attic. I was looking for when we first started posting about our "nomadiversary," which turned out to be our ninth, written up here, wherein I shared where we got that term.

Having now spent nearly a third of my life, and nearly half my adult life, as a peripatetic, the logistics of doing so have become second nature. Which is not to say there are no difficulties, only that we've become accustomed to them. The benefits are legion, and I am typing right now with a million-dollar view of the Manhattan skyline as a reminder of that.

The George Washington Bridge as seen through the glass of the Port Authority Bus Terminal. The terminal also contained a very nice grocery store, and a Marshalls that had a suitcase Louise has been needing. I ended up here while Louise was having an eye exam a block away.

Speaking of which, long-time readers will know that we always stop in New York City when we pass through, and we've stayed for several weeks at a stretch to enjoy what the city has to offer. This time is no different, but we adjusted the timing of our visit to coincide with our good friend from California, who is here because her mother is in the hospital for heart surgery. The hospital is literally a ten minute subway ride, after a ten minute walk, from where we land the tender, and so it has all been super convenient. We've been meeting her either at her hotel, the hospital lobby, or a pub we found in the neighborhood, the Fort Washington Public House. Ironically that pub turns out to be nearly a carbon copy of the pub we like right here in Inwood, with the same owner, the Tryon Public House.

Right across from the pub is the historic Audubon Ballroom, famous, among other things, for being the place where Malcom X was assassinated. You can make out his image in one of the windows.

While we are here in Manhattan, I am trying to arrange a yard visit in Mamaroneck to get some lingering issues with the paint addressed, and, time permitting, some other work done. The yard manager has been elusive and nothing is, as yet, pinned down. I expect we'll be in the NYC area through September, with a goal of heading south in October, a bit earlier than our start south last year.

We're enjoying our time here, but it is colored by some devastating family medical news that we received right after we arrived. Respecting the privacy of our family, that is all I will share here in the blog. We're also grappling with less serious but rather urgent medical news from some boating friends. Boats are needy, whether you are healthy enough to care for them or not, and I have offered my help in getting their boat to a better place if need be, which would leave Louise to care for Vector in the interim. If they accept my offer I will update our plans here.

Today we pass a children's back-to-school fair on Dyckman street, complete with pony rides and this petting zoo.

Crossing the Hudson this afternoon from our dinghy landing in Manhattan, we had to divert for a swimmer who was circling Manhattan. (They had a safety boat with them.) We knew this was coming, because the Coast Guard had announced it in the morning, and it's in the Local Notices to Mariners. The swimmers left The Battery at 11:12 this morning and were expected to take until 7:12 this evening to return to The Battery.

This is not the first time we've been in the river for the swim around Manhattan, officially known as the 20 Bridges Swim, part of the Triple Crown of Open Water Swimming (the other two are the English Channel and the Catalina Channel). I marvel at it every time, because when I was growing up here, you could hardly swim in the Hudson, and swimming in the East River or the Harlem River was unthinkable. Certainly the sort of exertion, breathing of water vapor, and mouthfuls of water involved in a strenuous eight-hour swim was out of the question. And if you had asked me back then if I could ever imagine people swimming in these rivers, I would have told you no, without qualification.

Vector looking diminutive against the NJ Palisades. As seen from my walk along the waterfront north of the bridge.

It is a testament to the environmental movement, and the legislation, including the creation of the EPA and the Clean Water Act, that these rivers have made such a remarkable recovery. They are by no means pristine, and there is more work to do, but I am happy to be here to enjoy them. We have a mostly clear view of the city and are breathing mostly clean air; I hope no one turns back the clock.

Final leg to New York City

We are under way southbound in the Hudson, on our final leg to New York City. I know I said I would not have time for a post, but I find myself with nearly three hours under way today on an easy autopilot route, in calm seas and with no traffic, so I thought I'd get out one more quick update before we settle in to Manhattan.

The Diamond Mills Paper Company dam across Esopus Creek, just upriver from our anchorage.

With the ebb starting in the afternoons right now, we had a quiet final morning in Saugerties. I returned ashore stag for a bit more of a walk around town, and we weighed anchor on the 1pm ebb and steamed out of Esopus Creek. As we passed Kingston, in rapid succession we had to do-si-do with the Rip Van Winkle III tour boat, were overtaken at speed by the downbound ship SSI Magnificent, and hailed by an upbound pleasure craft that recognized us from my Facebook posts.

Stella's did a nice job preserving this former gas station.

We arrived to Poughkeepsie, passed both bridges, and dropped the hook in the same spot we used on the upbound trip, across the river from Shadows (map). The river was calm this time, and we splashed the tender and headed across to Shadows for dinner, where we ate in the bar and found the food to be decent. On our last trip up we had stayed at the marina but missed the restaurant.

The former Newberry store in Saugerties still bears the old signage on the glass.

In the morning, while waiting on the ebb, I returned ashore at the city courtesy dock in front of the old ice house. A new restaurant, The Governess, just opened in the building a couple of weeks ago, replacing the Ice House restaurant where we ate last trip, and it seems to be more pleasant, an option for some future visit. After looping through the train station I walked north to the Upper Landing Park and the elevator up to the Walkway Over the Hudson. The view is spectacular from this re-purposed historic rail bridge, as I remember from when I walked onto it from the west side on our first visit a decade ago.

Atop the Walkway Over the Hudson. Vector is a spec just below the span of the Mid-Hudson Bridge.

We decked the tender and got under way on the ebb for a fairly short cruise to Newburgh. We keep missing this historic town, and I figured this time to be the charm, but mother nature had other plans. The twin cities of Newburgh and Beacon lie on a straight, deep section of river, and there is not a single spot to drop the hook with protection from north or south winds. As we arrived, unforecast southerlies had whipped the river up into a chaotic mess, with steep three footers splashing water on the pilothouse windows. Even the $3/ft marinas here put transients on an unprotected face dock. We decided to press on and see if we could find ourselves at least a little bit of a lee further on.

We passed this cable-layer south of Saugerties close aboard. They were on Dynamic Positioning and getting ready for underwater operations.

We continued south to Storm King mountain, and I maneuvered in as close as I could get to shore, just off the town park at Cornwall-on-Hudson (map). We dropped the hook in 25' and hoped for the best; it was a bit better than Newburgh, but some swell was still coming around the corner upriver. Louise was rooting around in the galley for something to make for dinner, since our resources said there was no place to get ashore here.

Our night view in Poughkeepsie of the Mid-Hudson Bridge, with the walkway behind it, both tastefully lit.

That turned out to be untrue. We had not noticed it until we had the anchor fully set, but there was a town boat ramp with a small, rickety floating dock a mere 500' from where we were anchored. That's close enough that even a little chop on the river was no problem, and I pulled up the map to find a Mexican place and a pizza joint just over a half mile from the dock, and a nice Italian place nearly a half mile beyond that. With a break in the rain, we grabbed our jackets and umbrellas and headed ashore.

Vector anchored just a stone's throw from Donahue Park.

The Village Pizzeria turned out to be a great choice, with real NY style pizza and a selection of beers in bottles and cans. They also had a Sicilian that looked good, but we could not eat that much. We made it home before the rain started back up. In the morning I returned ashore for a longer walk further into town. The town is 150' above river level, so we got our stair-climbing in again.

As seen from the gazebo against the backdrop of Breakneck Ridge.

We needed to get a pump-out before we land in Manhattan for a week or more, and my other morning project was to call the places on the state pump-out station list to see who on our route could get us in. The very first place to try was the Cornwall Yacht Club, which was not even a quarter mile from where we were anchored. When I called they said there might be just enough depth for us at the dock since it was close to high tide, the pump-out had just been repaired the previous day, and there was no charge.

When we weighed anchor in Esopus Creek we brought up this tree. It's a theme lately.

That sounded great to us, and so we weighed anchor ahead of the ebb and headed over to the pump-out dock, a straight-in shot perpendicular to the river. I don't think we touched bottom, but the sounder did read down to 6.5' as I was maneuvering, and it read just 7' when we were tied up. The pump was one of the fastest we've ever used, and the club let us take on water as well. Louise did a full load of laundry while we were tied up. When the falling tide had the sounder reading 6.5', we dropped lines and backed out into the river. By this time the ebb had started and we turned south to Peekskill.

USCGC Wire is home-ported in Saugerties.

Once again our plans were foiled by the weather. Where we anchor in Peekskill was going to be too exposed for forecast thunderstorms, and those same storms would likely keep us on the boat instead of making our way to one of the restaurants down near the waterfront. We opted to continue on to the deeper Half Moon Bay, where we were able to tuck in behind Croton Point (map) for some protection. The storms were already starting as we were dropping the hook, but that did not deter the two day boats anchored nearby with a half dozen kids playing in the water.

Vector as seen from dinner at Shadows. What, you don't see that tiny dot against the hills?

We had a nice dinner on board, and the day boats eventually left before the thunder and lightning started in earnest. At one point we saw and heard a strike so close we though it might have hit the sailboat that came in and anchored a short distance from us, but it must have hit something ashore instead. I marched into the pilothouse to check all of the electronics, after our direct-hit experience in Florida.

Village Pizzeria was also in a restored gas station. Texaco, I should think.

There isn't really a courtesy dock in Half Moon Bay, nor any good way to get across the massive Metro North rail complex to visit Croton, so we just had a quiet morning aboard until the start of the ebb. The plotter says we'll have the hook down off Manhattan by 4pm. (Update: we are safely anchored.)

Debby Does Damage

We are anchored in Esopus Creek, in the village of Saugerties, New York (map). I actually began this post under way southbound in the Hudson River, south of Albany, four days ago, but I keep getting sidetracked. Our lovely time on the New York State canal system has come to a close, but not without a little excitement at the end from Hurricane Debby. Among other things, Debby ruined my plan to get this post out before we entered the Hudson.

Vector tied to the canal wall in Little Falls.

When last I posted here we were still in Herkimer, New York. I explored a little more during the day, and we walked to dinner at Tokyo Sushi, a place with surprisingly good food for how dilapidated it looks from the outside. It was not quite as good as we remembered from our stop five years ago. In the morning we dropped lines for the short cruise to Little Falls.

I had to go hunting for this, now a local industrial business, but formerly the "modern" New York Central railroad station in Herkimer. This postcard image shows it in its heyday.

Unlike our first visit, when we did not know any better and tied up all the way down by the lock, this time we tied up in the ideal spot, closest to town (map). I took a long spin around town on both sides of the canal, finding that, as with many of the towns along this part of the canal, hard times and the pandemic have shuttered even more businesses since we were here five years ago, including the brew pub where we ate on that visit. We walked to Mama Gigi's for dinner, the only place in town open on a Monday, quite busy as a result. The food was decent but service was glacially slow and things did not arrive together.

The guillotine gate appears as we descend Lock 17.

Tuesday morning we locked down through Lock 17, the tall one with the guillotine gate, looking very different in the other direction, and 16, finishing the day on the upper wall of Lock 15 (map), where we found a working 50-amp power outlet. We were glad to have it, as it was in the 90s all afternoon. I took the e-bike to Fort Plain to scope things out, finding the only joint with beer to be dark Tuesdays. I returned at dinner time with the pizza bag and came home with a nice NY-style pizza from Papa Joe's for dinner in the air-conditioned comfort of our saloon.

The sill alone is taller than Vector. Numerous leaks from the lock walls are disconcerting.

Wednesday morning it was a very short cruise through one lock to the upper guide wall of Lock 14 (map) and the twin cities of Palatine Bridge and Canojaharie. I think we would have had just enough depth at the old terminal wall in Canojaharie if we had locked through, but that wall is less than a hundred yards from the New York State Thruway, and we figured it to be a noisy night there. Lock 14 has trains blowing for a grade crossing, but that's more palatable for us. I rode the e-bike into Canojaharie to find the old Beech-Nut plant finally bulldozed, the quaint traffic light replaced by a five-way stop, and only one restaurant open. Too far to walk anyway, and the lone joint in Palatine Bridge was dark. I picked up a few things at Price Chopper and we ate aboard.

Free fresh herbs at Lock 15, Fort Plain.

Vector at Lock 15. Later a smaller boat tied around the corner at left.

Not long before the lock closed, a tugboat pushing two empty hopper barges arrived to lock down. We were glad the guide wall has a dogleg in it, and we had deliberately tied up out of the straight-line approach to the lock. The barges passed us close aboard. Some poor guy who had just arrived to lock up westbound ended up hovering in the tailwater for over an hour; double barges have to be broken down and locked through separately with help of a winch. The tow turned out to be the empty return trip from delivering a new pedestrian bridge to Buffalo from Coeymans, to great fanfare at every stop.

Forward end of first barge passing us close aboard, deckhand ready to throw the line.

Tug Otter shoving into the lock. The pilothouse lowers for the western part of the canal.

Thursday we locked down through two more locks, including Lock 13 where the lockmaster lamented that no one stayed at his lock. There's a nice visitor center there, part of the Thruway, but no access to anything else. We continued on to Fonda where we tied up at the NY State Canals system maintenance terminal. We picked a spot along the wall where our power cord would reach one of the two pedestals, set back 60' from the water's edge (map) and tied up with three lines to a single bollard. It was once again nice to have power on a hot afternoon.

Vector tied at the Canals maintenance terminal.

I had read that the Canal office would give you a key to the pedestrian gate for after-hour access, and that was true, but there was something of a mad scramble to find the key; apparently we're the first to use it in quite some time. Tammy in the office was very friendly and helpful, and was even able to point us to a good dinner option. I enjoyed taking a spin through town on the bike, and later we walked over the tracks and down the street to the Winner's Circle for dinner. The place was packed, owing to a funeral (really), but the food was good and we liked the vibe. Many things in town have race-themed names, on account of the dirt track here. We swung by the Dairy Bar for soft serve on the way home.

When the river is like this, it feels almost sacrilegious to disturb it with our wake. 

We'd passed right by this stop without a second thought every time, but it turned out to be an excellent stop. It was quiet and secure, the restaurant was good, the ice cream was good, and you can't beat a free 50-amp power outlet. There's nothing to keep one a second night, but it made for a great way-station. In the morning we dropped lines for the short cruise through one more lock to arrive at the upper guide wall of Lock 11 in Amsterdam (map), now a regular and favorite stop for us. We were again grateful for a free 50-amp power outlet on another hot day.

Amsterdam RiverFest. I walked away with a free bottle of hot sauce from event sponsor Sticker Mule, and I bought some baked sweets from one of the vendors.

I had figured two nights in Amsterdam, with the first here at the wall, and the second down at the Riverlink Park dock, which is not free but is closer to town and some more interesting options. But we learned after we got settled that the annual RiverFest was scheduled for the very next day in Riverlink Park. We figured there'd be no room, with boats coming in for the day to enjoy the festival, and there would also be water ski shows (and practice) waking the dock, and live music inescapable just outside our door. We opted to just spend both nights at the lock, walking to old standby Russo's for dinner Friday, just before the rain started.

Best shot I could get of ski practice. Pirate "ship" at right is really just a moving swim platform for the skiiers.

Saturday, after a couple of hours working on the watermaker, which had been leaking into the bilge, I took the e-bike down to the festival to check it out. It was pretty small, actually, and the docks were empty. The live music had not started, but recorded music was blaring. I watched a bit of the water ski practice, and even though we could easily find a spot at the dock, the wakes were a bit much, as well as the music, so just as well we stayed at the lock. I explored a bit more of the town, including the defunct shopping mall over which one needs to walk to access the park, and later we walked to dinner at Bosco's, really the only other joint walkable from the lock. We were the only non-locals in the place, and everyone knew it, but it was friendly and the prime rib was decent. We watched the festival's fireworks display from our flybridge.

At the bar at Bosco's. Worth a return visit.

One of the things I had done while at Riverlink park was check out the pump-out. I found the pump to be working and the hose both long enough and with a proper fitting for Vector, and I also found a working water spigot. So Monday morning we dropped lines, locked down through 11, and tied up at the now-empty park in front of the pump-out (map). Unfortunately, even though the pump was running, it would not draw enough vacuum to empty our tank; I could not even get it to suck up any river water while I was trying to prime the hose. Game over, however, came when the fitting, handle, and valve separated from the end of the hose and plunged to the bottom of the river; apparently they had failed to use any glue on the PVC slip fittings. I sent the city a report with photos.

These falls run right through the middle of Amsterdam.

We did take on a full tank of water, and after about an hour at the dock, we dropped lines and continued downriver through three more locks to the community of Scotia, across the river from Schenectady. There is an inexpensive town dock here, but we've never been certain if there was enough depth for Vector in the lone spot that could fit her length, the 70' face dock at the west end. We eased in very slowly, and were tickled to find 10' of depth alongside (map). We spooled out all 100' of our power cord and were just able to reach the closest power outlet at a slip at the east end of the dock. We paid $20 for the dock and $10 for the power, a bargain on another hot afternoon.

Vector at the Scotia dock. The power outlet is down by the other boat.

It was too hot to walk or bike around town, so we stayed aboard until dinner time, when we walked very slowly to the Mohawk Tap Room for dinner. Not worth a repeat visit, and, frankly, we should have just had burgers at the popular and highly-rated drive-in, Jumpin' Jack's, next door to the dock. On our way home we discovered a free concert in the park's amphitheater, and I returned with my lawn chair to listen for a while before grabbing a soft-serve at the drive-in.

I took in some of this show in the relative cool of the evening.

On our way to Scotia and continuing into the afternoon at the dock, I had been hitting the books and making phone calls to find a working pump-out, which we'd need in a few day's time. I found one at the Crescent Boat Club, where we'd have to plow the mud to get to the dock, and one at the Schenectady Yacht Club. I was stunned that the new-ish commercial harbor at which we docked five years ago does not have one. So Monday morning we dropped lines and headed straight for the Yacht Club. The dock was rickety, but there was plenty of depth and the pump worked fine. Attendant Linda was pleasant and helpful, and were were back under way in a half hour.

Tied to the Crescent wall. We used the rock in foreground, intended as a parking bumper, to tie up the stern.

We had to briefly tie to the upper guide wall at Lock 7 while they resolved an electrical issue with the lock, but it was fixed in short order and we finished our very short cruise to the old Crescent terminal wall in the community of Half Moon (map). The wall has only widely-spaced bollards, and we ended up tying our stern off to a large rock. A c-store is the only thing in walking distance, but with the e-bike I made a provisioning run to Walmart and stopped by Discount Beverages, a nice beer store with lots of crafts on the shelf.

Vector in Amsterdam, just because I liked the reflection.

Tuesday morning we dropped lines and locked down through the Waterford Flight, locks 6 through 2, lowering us 170' to just 16' above sea level. We tied to the floating dock in Waterford (map) for the first time, since we wanted the power for a two-night stay while we rented a car for a family visit near Saratoga Springs. There was plenty of room, and I was happy to pay the $10 per night for power and water. With the remnants of Hurricane Debby bearing down on us, we were happy to have the Mohawk River behind us; that afternoon I got an email from the canal saying they might be closing the locks for the storm. I picked up takeout burritos from I Love Rosa for dinner aboard; they were pretty good.

Vector at the floating dock in Waterford.

Wednesday morning Hertz picked us up at the visitor center, we got our car and headed off to Saratoga Springs by way of some provisioning stops, something all boaters do when they find themselves with a car. Ironically, we ended up at the very same Walmart and beer store I had previously visited in Half Moon on our way to an Amazon locker there, and a stop at Lowes for new galley faucets and bathroom towel bars to replace items that have succumbed to salt air corrosion after a decade.

This canal electrical enclosure was made from an old road sign, likely from the time when Canals was under the Thruway Authority (it's now part of the power company).

We had a lovely afternoon and evening with my uncle, aunt, and cousin over a home-cooked steak dinner. We even got in on some birthday cake from my cousin's birthday just two days earlier. But in the middle of the afternoon I got another email from the Canal Corporation: they would be draining the pools on the Mohawk River and lifting all the movable dams for the expected rainfall from Debby, closing the canal to navigation from Schenectady to Fort Plain. They would be running the locks through 8pm to get everyone out. We were really, really glad we were already out of the canal and did not have to cut our visit short to scramble back to the boat, which would have been the case had we rented the car in Amsterdam, one of the other options we'd considered.

Just another photo of a still river and reflected skies.

We enjoyed the rest of our evening and drove back to Waterford, after a quick grocery stop for refrigerated items, parking the car for the night on a dead end right next to the boat. Or so we thought. Shortly after we arrived, some of the other boaters on the dock let us know that they'd been told the water might come up over the top of the fixed bulkhead when they started draining the canal and/or when the storm hit. One of our contingencies had been to stay right there at the dock through the storm, but that was looking like a bad idea. They also told us that the marina across the river might evacuate, and they basically lock all the boats into the Waterford flight for "safe harbor," allowing boats to tie up in the inter-lock basins that are normally off-limits for overnight docking. That option was available to us as well.

Before the canal was integrated with the Mohawk, it actually crossed it on an aqueduct, whose northern terminus was right here where we were docked.

We spent about a half hour hammering out escape plans, to include going back into the flight for safe harbor, continuing on to Troy per our original plan, or else turning upriver on the Husdon, locking up through two locks on the Champlain Canal, and tying up at the bulkhead in Mechanicville. They were scheduled to start lifting the dams at 9am, and even if we did not move the boat by then, we wanted to be aboard and ready for any contingency. Yet our rental car was due back at 9:30, and it was at least 20 minutes each way to Hertz.

That's a section of old canal/aqueduct wall in the foreground.

We quickly decided to return the car immediately instead, using the after-hours drop box. And so there we were, driving back to Hertz at 8:30pm. We got a Lyft back to the dock, but even that went awry as the Lyft software tried to route us over a bridge through Peebles Island Park, which crosses what might soon be a flooded part of the river, and it was closed and locked with a gate. We had to help the driver route around it on the east side of the Hudson. We were back home a little before 10pm.

Peebles Island Bridge closed. The Lyft driver had to backtrack and go around.

We continued to ruminate on escape plans the rest of the evening and well into the morning. When the locks opened at 8, some of our neighbors locked up into the safe harbor, along with a few of the boats from the marina. Then two sailboats showed up at the dock thinking they were just going to continue on their merry way; they had not heard any inkling of what was happening. When they called the lock, the lockmaster asked if they were seeking safe harbor, and they said, "no, we're going to Oswego." No, not today. I spent part of the morning staring at river gages and bridge height tables, ultimately ruling out the Mechanicville option because we might just make it under the bridges on the way up, and then be stuck for a week waiting for the water to come down.

The theme from Adams Family played in my head the several times I walked past this old house in Waterford.

We ultimately decided that sheltering in the locks carried a similar risk; they could close the locks, including the Troy Federal Lock still downriver of us, and there we'd be stuck, making it a bit of a scramble to be back in NYC on the 19th for a commitment there. We knew there would be a ton of current carrying plenty of debris down in Troy, but we also knew the wall there where we planned to tie up had sturdy bollards designed for ships, and with plenty of fenders it would be a safe place to ride out the storm. We dropped lines at 11:30 and were locking through Troy Federal at noon. The lockmaster there said there was a chance the water could come up over the lock wall, reinforcing our decision to get out of Dodge.

Vector at the Troy dock. The river can rise well over the seawall with the docks riding on these I-beams. They are still not as tall as the biggest floods here.

When we arrived to Troy, before tying in our familiar spot, or the alternate that I had marked on my chart when we saw a tugboat there on our way upriver, we first checked out the city courtesy dock adjacent to the Riverfront Park. This is a 360' long floating face dock that the city installed when they rebuilt the Troy Marina just the other side of the Green Island Bridge. We'd heard or read different stories about whether overnight stays were permitted or whether or not there was a fee for use. We were also concerned it might be too lightweight for Vector in storm conditions.

One of the pleasant residential areas downtown.

When we approached the dock we could see that, even thought it was a lightweight aluminum-framed dock, it was attached to the wall with a very stout I-beam traveler system, which extended some ten feet or so above the bulkhead to accommodate flooding above the wall. Sturdy metal cleats were through-bolted, and we judged the dock to be more than adequate to secure Vector through Tropical Depression Debby. We picked a spot mid-dock (map) and made fast with three breast lines while I went in search of the rules.

The only rules we could see. No parking meter to be found.

I found a sign with the phone number of the marina dockmaster for problems, and a very large sign saying that all boaters needed to register at the "parking meter." We've dealt with this before, where the city installs the same parking kiosk for boats that it uses for cars, and you pay with an app or a credit card just like street parking. I found no such meter, however, anywhere near the docks; the nearest was in a parking lot a quarter mile away, and it wanted a Zone number we did not have. This jibed with reviews I'd read that said the city intended to charge for use with a meter but had yet to get around to installing it.

Just packing up the Saturday farmers' market on one of the shop-lined downtown blocks.

With no other restrictive signs, and a backup option on the wall just downriver, we decided to stake our claim, and we finished tying up for storm conditions. If nothing else we had a safe harbor excuse with the storm on the way. We later learned that a small unoccupied express cruiser tied up at the end of the dock had been there for weeks. With the storm already bearing down on us and rain coming and going, we just walked a block to Brown's Brewing, familiar to us from previous stops, for dinner. They make a stout of which I am fond, and I've been buying it in cans where it's available.

You don't have to be lonely, with ...

By the time we returned from dinner we had already accumulated an impressive mat of weeds, with entrained logs and other detritus, wedged between the bow and the dock. They were so thick and deep that we could not move them with the boat poles. The river was whizzing by at around two knots, and the pool above the dam had risen two feet.

This mat of weeds was 2' thick and intertwined. We finally got rid of it a day later with an hour of sweat and moving the boat further from the dock.

Friday we hunkered down on board for the storm. The dire wind forecast, with gusts up to 40, never materialized, in part because we were protected by the seawall and the hills upon which the city is built. But we had a ton of rain. It would have been a great time to hammer out this blog post, but I spent the day working on the air conditioning, which quit first thing in the morning, with the seawater pump not discharging anything overboard. I should have checked the strainer first, but the generator, which runs on the same strainer, was working fine and the AC was pumping water when I pulled the discharge line in the engine room. Suffice it to say the strainer was full of weeds.

"Well, there's your problem."

The rain had let up to a light drizzle by dinner time, and with it still raining and the city soaked, we just walked to Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, right at the top of the ramp and well-recommended, for dinner. The bbq was good and they had a selection of drafts; the rain was done by the time we walked home. With the river high, swift, and debris-laden, we opted to spend another night, and Saturday I explored the city in pleasant weather. We hoped to have dinner downtown, but after bouncing among no fewer than a half dozen different places, most of which we rejected due to live music, we ended up back near the waterfront at Emry's Garden, which was good.

This was our night view, a modern complex in Green Island.

There turned out to be much more to Troy than we had expected, and with an apparently free dock we could easily have stayed another few nights, but we'd already had to compress the rest of the schedule for the delay, and so we dropped lines Sunday morning with the tide for the downhill run to Albany. In short order we came to the Amtrak railroad bridge, which, at this river level and with our mast already having been raised back into position, we needed to have opened. The bridge operator had other plans, telling us it would be four hours to get someone to the bridge and that four hours' notice was now required.

This couple pulled up to the dock against the current and then chose to put a stern line on first. As soon as it was secure the heavy current grabbed the bow and swung it out until the swim platform jammed up under the dock. Rather than let go and make another approach, the skipper decided to jump off and try to haul it in by hand. They eventually got it.

That was news to us; I had checked the published bridge regulations and the Notices to Mariners before we arrived. With no clearance gauge on the bridge itself, we had to estimate the clearance from the tide table and a fudge-factor for the extra freshet, and then I climbed up the mast and lowered our hard-to-reach VHF antennas and we just squeaked under. The next day I double-checked the regs and filed a complaint with the Coast Guard, and yesterday I got a frantic and apologetic call from the operations supervisor at Amtrak, backpedaling about bridge operators misunderstanding things and making up their own rules as they went along, and a promise it would not happen again.

Troy has done a good job preserving and re-purposing its historic architecture.

Just past the rail bridge is the place we had intended to anchor, across from a park dock with access to the city. That stop got stricken from the schedule when we extended our stay in Troy, and probably just as well, because the river was still full of fast-moving debris . We noted the courtesy dock was in place, for some future visit, and we continued downriver to Coxsackie.

Vector at the free town dock in Coxsackie.

Even though the ebb is still running swift, the weather was otherwise settled, and this time we tied up at the rather flimsy city courtesy dock (map) rather than anchoring behind the island. This spot is more exposed to river wakes, but the big ship wakes moved the dock itself more than Vector. We strolled over to Patrick Henry's Tavern for dinner, which was good, on their lovely riverfront deck, and then had a nice walk around town. There was live music in the waterfront pavilion, which was not too loud on the boat. The rain started just as we got home, sending many of the concertgoers scrambling under cover of the pavilion.

Music in The Pavilion, just before the rain started.

After a nice morning walk and lunch, we dropped lines with the ebb at noon for the short run downriver to Hudson and Athens, where we dropped the hook in the Middle Ground, just across from the Athens town dock (map). We've stayed at that dock in the past, but this time we figured to go to Hudson instead, with nothing open in Athens on a Monday. We splashed the tender, which I wanted to breeze out before trusting it to take us across the river to Hudson, and I stopped off at the Athens dock just to walk around. I found a nice-looking restaurant, Seconds, which had eluded my search, to be open for dinner.

Vector anchored in the Hudson-Athens middle ground, which has become an island seen at left, obscuring Hudson. Historic Hudson-Athens lighthouse is at right.

Seconds was appealing enough that we decided to just return there for dinner, and it turned out to be quite good. We strolled the town a bit afterwards. The local brewpub has changed hands and names but is still in operation. The pizza place that we liked was still in business but dark Monday, along with the hotel's riverfront eatery. Most of the town is frozen in time. We were a bit alarmed when the warning sirens, the old-fashioned air-raid kind, on the Athens sewage treatment plant sounded for well over a full minute around 11pm; we never did learn what that was about. We figured we were far enough across the channel from the outfall if it was some kind of release.

Warren Street, Hudson. A very pleasant stroll.

I still wanted to see Hudson, which we've skipped every time, and with our anchorage very calm and pleasant, we opted to spend another night, in lieu of a planned stop at Catskill. I'm glad we did; I spent a few pleasant hours during the day walking the very long main drag, Warren Street, whose business district extends some mile and a quarter from the waterfront, up a moderate slope. Unlike many of the towns we've seen further north, or even its neighbor Athens across the river, almost every storefront here houses a going concern. There must have been at least two dozen eateries, from cafes to semi-permanent food trucks and carts to brew pubs and white-tablecloth dinner houses. High-end clothing, home furnishing, and other retailers dotted the street, and I found a store with the mother lode of restoration hardware spanning the century or so of building ages in town.

The mother lode of hardware for century-old buildings.

This storefront drew me in.

We returned ashore together for dinner at Savona's, who lost our reservation but still found us a nice spot on their shaded terrace. It's a bit of an uphill climb from the river, and, for now at least, involves walking in the street from the riverfront park to the Amtrak station, but it's definitely a stop to add to the list. I did sound out both free docks to find them too shallow for Vector, notwithstanding some on-line reviews to the contrary.

In front of a cafe with sidewalk tables. Gave me a smile.

Yesterday we weighed anchor with the ebb in the afternoon to continued downriver here to Saugerties, on Esopus Creek. There's not a lot of room in this creek for Vector, and nary a dock that can hold us, which is why it is our first visit. We proceeded a half mile into the creek to the one and only spot I judged could easily accommodate us, thankfully finding it empty, and dropped the hook. We're on a short scope of just 50' here, so it is usable only in settled weather. Last night we tendered over to the local park, after a quick stop at the marina fuel dock, tied up, and walked the 3/4 mile into town for dinner. Downtown is 150' above river level, which meant walking to dinner up 15 floors, but once there we found another wonderful little downtown.

Vector at anchor on Esopus Creek, Saugerties.

We strolled around for a couple of blocks before settling on The Dutch Ale House, which was quite good, with friendly staff and a nice selection of drafts. There are at least a dozen decent eateries just in the four-block downtown area, which would make for a perfect stop if not for the hill. The creek was quiet and still overnight, and I returned ashore this morning with the e-bike for a provisioning run out to Price Chopper and the local bagel place. We decked the tender when I got home.

Downtown Saugerties. Well preserved and vibrant.

Head of navigation; the dam behind the rocks impounding the old falls.

We're still here. After enjoying our fresh bagels, we both decided we'd rather spend another evening in this town, hill or no, than the next scheduled stop in Kingston. Kingston's downtown is three miles from the waterfront, and it's always a roll of the dice to get a free spot at the Ole Savannah restaurant dock vs. having to go back out and anchor in the river, so we opted to brave the Saugerties hill for another stroll into town and our pick of lovely places this evening. We ended up at Stella's, a great casual place in an old gas station, and a bit closer than the bulk of downtown.

These VW microbus sculptures are all over town; I must have passed a dozen of them, all painted differently.

Tomorrow we will continue downriver on the afternoon ebb, likely stopping near Poughkeepsie. We have only two more stops on the river beyond that, likely Newburgh and Peekskill, before arriving to Manhattan, where we'll be for at least a week. I won't have the chance to post again until then, and time in NYC is always short, so it may be Long Island Sound before I get back here for an update.