July 20th, 2016
Marlboro, NY
(Three years ago today, I was paddling with my little girl Lexie on the Pemi River in New Hampshire. Damn, I miss her so much)
I had a tough time staying asleep last night in Kingston, NY. No, not because I was sleeping on the dock, though that part comes later, it was because of Pokemon GO. The first I ever heard of this game was when one of you shared my blog post saying: “Forget about Pokemon Go, this guy is kayaking from Canada to Key West. Just a couple of days later, I’d experience this game craze first hand in Waterford, NY at the city dock. All the players there were very nice and respectful. Quiet as a mouse even, but not here, not tonight.
First, I want to start off by saying that I am witnessing the power of this came first hand. I am seeing people outside waking that would never be outside walking. I’ll also add that it is bringing people to areas they would not normally get to. One gentleman from last night drove 7 miles to play this game around the Museum. I witnessed strangers interact and teams get created. What ever the hell this game is, it’s making people get outside and talk to each other and what can be better that than.
Now for the bad; I’m not sure if it was just this area or in all areas, but the teams seem to be growing in intensity and there is play fighting to defend forts. While I was writing last night amongst the players, someone thought I was in charge of the YMCA or Gym that was near me. I could hear people yelling trying to defend Forts. Of all the groups of people wandering around well past midnight, only one guy was destructive, but the other guys with him had called him on it. By destructive, I mean he was knocking signs over and broke an empty bottle out on a sidewalk. His friends kept picking up the signs.
Around 5am a boat throwing a huge wake came by knocking all the boats and me around in the marinas. I don’t understand boaters who do this. Their boat is in a marina too so if they are encouraging this behavior, they will be on the loosing end at some point. Every boater should know that it is a No Wake Zone around all Marinas. I guess some confuse that with Go Slow, which is a separate issue. Some boats have to barely idle in order to not throw a wake.
So I was up early, packed up and headed into town for some local breakfast. A real breakfast is a real treat for me and you guys are being so generous with donations that I can splurge once in a while. I really appreciate those donations. I’m thinking you all deserve an autographed copy of the book when its done.
When I had pulled into Rondout Creek yesterday, I had been having the ride of my life. Running those large roller and a strong wind on my back was fun. Dangerous, but fun. Today was completely different. Paddling out into the Hudson, I thought I was on a lake. The surface was so smooth this morning. The ever so slight breeze was barely enough to ripple the water. It was quiet too, I could hear people far off talking. I wondered how long this would last. Would the weather change on me?
While paddling, I try to take a straight line through the curvy river, just as I did on Lake Champlain and the Canal before. This means that I cross the shipping channel often and usually on an angle that keeps me in it for a while so I have to keep an eye out for other boater and commercial traffic. While boaters can give me a lot of room (but for some reason, they don’t down here) the commercial traffic cannot so I try to yield to the traffic in the channel. However, today I leaned that I can’t always do this trajectory. I had just paddled across the channel heading to the next point far off when I ran into a large bed of Lilly Pads. I ended up having to paddle the channel all the way around it. I took the opportunity to stop in the lighthouse I was paddling by and visit for a moment. I was at the lighthouse when I started to see my first boaters out here. I saw a barge heading south and a few powerboats headed north. I could hear the captain of the first power boater shouting over his engine noise to his buddy; “There’s a guy on the lighthouse! How the F-ck did he get up there?” I guess from their vantage point, they could not see my kayak on the southerly side, but it gave me a chuckle. After the barge passed I got back in the water.
I hadn’t been back on the water long when I noticed SPOT was no longer registering. I found a spot to pull off which turned out to be the Stattsburg Park just north of Norrie Point. It was now about noon so I changed out the batteries and got it working again and then took lunch. I met a couple of people walking along the trails above me and got to chat with them. A few kayakers paddled north and we chatted a bit to. I mentioned to one guy how hot it was out here and he, in his shorts and life jacket, replied that it was quite nice. He was paddling into the light breeze. On his way back he had changed his tune.
Now rested and fed, I got back on the water. I had been contemplating going swimming, but like all the days before, there were two dead fish floating in the area in front of me, but it was so hot, I almost did it. Now on the water and paddling with the light wind, it was incredibly hot. The heat drains my energy and I find it tough to paddle. Suddenly up ahead I see something; a gang of kayakers were headed my way. I like calling them gangs when there are a large group of them, don’t ask why, but I just find it funny. It’s a rare sighting and reminds me of a bunch of little kids ganged up to form a big group amongst all these very large boats.
I paddled toward them and met them in a cove they had entered on an island across from Norrie Point Marina. As I entered, one of the guys shouted, “Hey, this is the guy paddling to Key West” I’m becoming known out here. The gang was a group of people out here for the Wounded Warrior project. Helping get wounded veterans on the water. The River Connection in Hyde Park NY was supplying all the kayaks and I have to say, for rental kayaks, these were top of the line boats. If you are in the Hyde Park region and interested in kayaking, I’d encourage you to rent from this guy. Not only is he doing something great for our Vets, but he also has great equipment. I thanked them all for their service and sacrifices and suddenly they started putting together donations of food and water for me from their supply.
With a surge of energy from these guys, I paddled south but soon hit a wall from the heat again. It was time; making sure it was clear, I jumped overboard. Ah, the water felt so refreshing, though it looked filthy. I’d do this two more times before the end of the day. I was now approaching a bend and bottle neck in the river and could not see what was beyond. I was approaching a marina on the East side and began contemplating staying there for the night when a power boater came between me and the marina at full speed.
I thought that was odd as the river and channel were to my West side. No sooner had he passed the marina, he came to a stop, turned around and motored back to a slip at the marina. Thinking that maybe he needed fuel or something I watched and waited for someone at the marina to yell at him for making a wake that close, but no, he was not going to the fuel dock, he was docking at his slip. Most of the powerboats back into their slip in these marinas and there was a strong ebb tide flowing. There were two people on board. The captain and a girl or woman in a little white bikini, I couldn’t tell either of their ages, but I could hear them as I was drifting past while looking at my charts.
I began to hear some yelling; Not yet, Not yet, NOW! I looked up from my chart to see the girl jumping off the back of the boat holding a line tied to its stern. She’s pulling as hard as she could to pull the boat to the dock. Her body is leaned over about twenty degrees or in other words, beyond any ability to right itself if there is slack in that line she is holding. As the stern of the boat begins to swing over to the dock she is on, she begins falling backward into a pontoon boat in the next slip. The pontoon boat stops her from falling into the water. Meanwhile, Captain Dude is trying to stop the nose of the boat, now caught in the outgoing tide from slamming into the boat next to him. I begin hearing metal crunching as the nose of his boat and the boat that is in its slip start banging into each other due to waves from another boat that passed by. With that he starts screaming at this petite woman trying to hold this large powerboat to the dock. You’re useless! I’m Done! I’m not doing this anymore. Get your own damn boat and gear. She releases the line so he can get out from under the other boat. He motors out and now tries to dock on one of the parallel boat slips. Again, he has no luck and he powers back out away from the dock.
His problem was that he gave the woman a line for the back of the boat when it was the front that needed to be secured. A powerboat has full steering capabilities at the rear and hardly any at the front unless it is underway. The woman following orders or her inability to hold the boat to the dock did not create this fiasco. She actually did pretty well with that despite her petite size. Rather the very inexperienced captain who did not understand currents and his boat as well as proper docking preparation was the problem.
What this whole scene reminded me of was how men treat women. I’ve never had a problem working with women, even women who are not experienced with the task at hand. Perhaps it is because I have been working with women since an early age at my Dad’s retail store, but every time I see a scene like above play out, I get upset. That woman, who was doing everything she could and following very bad orders, was getting belittled by the person who is supposed to be in charge. The captain took a great day on the water and turned it into a shitty experience. Sometimes things go wrong. As with the un-stepping of the mast the other day; sometimes things go horribly wrong, but yelling and belittling someone does not do anything to correct a situation. Working with Captain Mike amidst a disaster on board, Captain Mike kept his cool and took to the new task at hand in securing the wreckage and vessel. That is the difference between a true Captain and this guy on the powerboat. In fact ladies, that is the sign of a true Man. If your boyfriend treats you like the guy above, you need to find a better man because no one deserves that, not even if she messed up, which she hadn’t. OK, back to paddling.
Leaving the marina I rounded the bottleneck and saw the Mid Hudson Bridge dead ahead. I was still running with the ebb tide so I was sure I could make it there within an hour or so. This would be my destination today. I paddled on with new energy and began researching places to stay. First up was a call to Fred, an old friend who lives near the foot of the bridge. Nope, he’s out of town, but he tells me about a Marina and Restaurant called Marinar’s Harbor. OK, I’m headed there.
Up ahead I see the Walkway over the Hudson. The world’s longest Foot Path Bridge. It use to be a train trestle high above the river, but rather than taking it down, it became a foot and bicycle path connecting the two sides of the river. I’ve walked this very path and it is very high. Scary high! Now I get to see it from below. I also made arrangements to meet my Dad and Arlene for Dinner. I hadn’t seen my Dad since I was in Whitehall, NY which seems like years ago.
I begin looking for the Marina and I’m not seeing anything. Fred told me about a park, but not seeing that either. As I get closer I see the remains of a building and a boat launch. Turns out that Mariner’s Harbor is no more and the park, well its not much of a park at all, but rather a parking lot. Time for Plan B.
I contact Arlene and my Dad looking for a pull out. I’m not comfortable sleeping under the bridge in the City of Poughkeepsie. Perhaps because I know Poughkeepsie well; after all, I use to manage properties in this city, but no, I am not camping here so a pull out is in order. Both my Dad and Arlene are an hour away so I decide to use the time and the ebb current to paddle down river more.
Going under the bridge I stop to talk to some kids on the shore about my trip. Hopefully give them some inspiration; they did seem amazed so we’ll see. You never know what kind of an impact you can make on someone just by talking to him or her for a minute. I paddle south and pass a large fancy marina that is new. Looks like a nice restaurant and possible hotel too? I don’t remember that and I almost checked in to see if I could camp there, but I decide to paddle on.
Flying along in the ebb tide, I reach the Poughkeepsie Marina or Yacht Club. The sign was too far away to see, but it’s a small club. I’m sure they would have let me stay there if I asked, but Arlene is already on her way to rendezvous with me somewhere. I saw a gentlemen on the dock and I asked him how far it was to Bowdoin Park as my map showed that park on the river and I figured there would be a boat or kayak launch in a large park like that. He asked if I could see the Smokestack, which I did. He said it was just beyond that. Great, I text Arlene that this is the pull out point and when she get’s there to find the kayak dock or boat launch. I paddle on to the park.
I got to the smokestack in no time flat, but there was no park after it, in fact there was nothing. Up ahead I could see more industrial area. Meanwhile, Arlene arrived at the park and is trying to find the water. She can’t because the park doesn’t go to the water despite what the map shows. She inquires and is told that the best bet is to go to White’s Marina a couple of miles down so she calls me at tells me this.
Now I have a problem. I’m loosing the ebb tide and slack tide is beginning. This means I’m loosing my free ride and I’m exhausted. I’m also not even close to Bowdoin Park, its at least another mile from me and now the pull out is another couple miles from that. In a powerboat, this means a few more minutes, but for me, this means an hour or more if that tide turns on me and I don’t have the energy now to fight a flood tide. The sun is making it difficult to see my phone’s screen and my battery is getting low. I begin looking for Plan C.
There is a marina across the river. Probably a half hour paddle for me, but I don’t know how long it will take Arlene to get there. I can’t even get the address as my phone keeps autocorrecting Marlboro Yacht Club when I search it. I ask her to try and she calls back. It’s a half hour for her too. Perfect, that is our new pull out. I paddle on over.
Approaching some folks on the deck of the Yacht Club I explain what I am doing and ask if it’s OK to leave the kayak here for the night. They were kind enough to say yes and found me a dock to tie up to for the evening. Now I don’t need to pull the kayak out, just me. I no sooner get the kayak unloaded when Arlene shows up. We load up and head to dinner which is an hour away. The time is 7:30pm. This was a long day.
Arlene and I met up with my Dad and we enjoyed a nice dinner before calling it a night.
Day 19 Done (uggh)
PS: I forgot to turn off my SPOT so if you want to see what GPS Scatter looks like, Last night is a good example.
