Bestefar's gone sailing

Kingsland Bay, Sept 20, 2013

The picture is of our good friend Barbara waving a flag and sign, which said welcome home. Barbara, Pat, Mary, and Paul were there to greet us as we arrived. Many new friends entered our lives on this voyage. Tonight we will join more friends at the Pizza Night party. Meeting friends again, always, makes our hearts quicken like a Hummingbird.

Hovering at home, Steve

Chipman Point VT Sept 19, 2013

We woke up in Fort Edwards to a dense river fog. To warm up we walked into town for a hot breakfast at the Old Fort Diner. For five dollars you get the big John breakfast: three eggs, home fries, toast, coffee, and your choice of ham, bacon, or sausage. Warm and toasty we walked back to the boat.

The Fort Edwards yacht basin was a very comfortable spot with a park, showers, and electrical hookups. Its only draw back was that it was shallow. Forty feet from the dock it was only 3 feet deep. Hummingbird draws five feet and can only turn in about two boat lengths or 66 feet. The problem was how to get out. I did not want to back out down the long narrow entrance to the yacht basin. We decided to turn the boat with ropes. Cathy called it the silent turn because the motor was not running. A man from Panama from the next boat called it the pirates turn. He help us by pulling on a long line that I attached to the front of the boat. As the boat turned we pushed on the mast to keep the back of the boat from rubbing on the dock. It all happened silently and smoothly.

We are off for the downward leg of our lock journey. These lock will lower us down to the level of lake Champlain. The ride was beautifully tranquil. We saw turtles, deer, blue herons, and small mouth bass being caught. At the end of the day, like a silent pirate, we snuck into Chipman Point Vermont.

Silent running, Steve

Fort Edwards NY, Sept 18, 2013

The Waterford free dock is a wonderful spot where all the boaters going on the Eyre canal or the Chaplain canal stop to overnight before entering the canals. There were many stories to be told. By far one of the most popular stories was Cathy's story about swimming in the Federal Lock.

Today's journey will take us through six locks that lift us up 140 feet. This section is part of the upper Hudson River. Wherever there is a waterfall on the Hudson they have built a lock to lift you up to the next level of the river. Also this section of the Hudson is part of a superfund sight where pollutants are being dredged from the river and put into barges. The barges are big and as wide as a lock. Each barge is pushed by a tug boat.

Coming into lock 6 there was a large barge pushed by the tug HR Hawk. It seemed to be stationary so we hailed the Tug on the radio and asked if we could pass. He said he was waiting to enter the lock and that we would have to wait because he filled the lock. Hummingbirds are no match for a Hawk. We ended up waiting about an hour.

About 15 minutes before lock 7 we again caught up with the HR Hawk. This time he said we could pass on the left but warned us to stay between the buoys because it gets shallow fast. We revved the Hummingbird all the way up to its top speed of 8.4 miles per hour and slowly began to pass the barge on its left side. The same side the green buoys mark. The differential in speed was only about 2 miles per hour, so it took us quite a while to pass. Just as we were about to get by a green buoy loomed directly in front of us. My dilemma was: were we far enough in front to cut back into the channel or should I pass the green buoy on its shallow side. Fifty pound vs 10,000 tons, I chose the buoy. The tug's captain called back to warn me again about the shallows, as we successfully passed.

We now have conclusive proof that Hummingbirds are faster than Hawks.

Speedy Steve

Watertown NY, Sept 17, 2013

The temperatures have been getting colder. We sleep in our fleece shirts and now there is always river fog in the morning. We left Catskill in one of these misty mornings. Things went smoothly until just before the federal lock in Troy New York. There was a fork in the river, to the left was a wide channel going towards a water fall and to the right was a narrow channel. I chose the left and Cathy thought we were going to motor into a waterfall. Shortly the two forks of the river came together and the Federal lock appeared. We motored apprehensively into the federal lock slowly, knowing that it did not have ropes, just large four inch pipes that you rap a rope around at the middle of the boat.

We thought we were prepared. The rope and boat hooks were ready. It would be more turbulent than when we came down because when they fill the lock water boils up as if you are in a cauldron. I had made the rope a little too long, so after rapping it once around the pipe I had to move quite a ways forward on the boat to keep the ropes tight. Here in the front I used the ropes and a boat hook to keep the boat parallel with the lock. Cathy had a boat hook at the back. As the water came in we kept banging the mast on the front because the boat was not centered on the pole and because my boat hook kept collapsing.

Cathy came forward to exchange boat hooks and to help fend off the wall. We were both at the front of the boat when I heard a scream and watched as Cathy belly flopped into the water. Her boat hook had collapsed abruptly while Cathy was pushing on it with all her weight. I immediately let go of the rope and reached for a mooring rope to throw to Cathy. Fortunately there had been enough room between the boat and the wall so she did not hit her head but she did bang her knee going over the stanchion. I pulled her back to the fender board at the middle of the boat and asked her to hold on, while I pried the boat hook out of her other hand. With her secured I dashed back to the wheel to put the motor in gear and get the boat under control. I moved the boat into the middle of the lock then went forward to see if I could lift Cathy into the boat. I could only get her about half way because of the fenders and my bad back. I went back to the wheel and again centered the boat. The Lock master was yelling use the ladder. I thought he meant maneuver the boat to the ladder but that would crush Cathy against the side. Shortly, I realized he meant that Cathy should swim for the ladder. I told her to let go of the fender and swim to the ladder. She was reluctant because she couldn't see. She still had on her hat and sunglasses. The hat had flopped down over her eyes. Cathy finally let go and the lock master threw her a rope and buoy to pull her to the ladder, which Cathy climbed.

After Cathy got to the top of the ladder the lock master walked over to her with his clip board. Cathy later told me that she was afraid he would ask her name. She was ready to tell him that her name was Susie Queue. Better to be anonymous than famous for a mishap. He instead asked her if it was a cold swim. She said yes but I think she should have told him it was one of the biggest swimming holes she had ever been in.

Treading water in Waterford, Steve

PS. The picture is from the next day in lock 1, which had ropes. You can still see Cathy's cloths drying on the mast. She told me she wasn't going to fall in again because she did not have enough cloths to go through eleven locks. The only casualty of the incident was the ipod touch that was in Cathy's pocket.

Catskill, Sept 16, 2013

We were up at 6:30 am to start preparing for our mast un-stepping. We worked from 7:00 to 10:30 unhooking the wiring, taking the sails and rigging off , and preparing the mast cradles. We then moved the boat under the crane. There was no climbing the mast just lifting it at laying it in the cradle. It was done by 11:30. Now we had to lash everything down and take off vulnerable equipment on the top of the mast. We finished at 2:30 pm. Cathy wanted to leave immediately. I said we will be going against a 2 knot current and won't make it far before dark, lets stay. Cathy was disappointed staying but it did give us a chance to try pudgy out with our new motor.

The new motor has a centrifugal clutch, which engages as the RPM increases. I didn't realize that the starting position is fast enough to engage the clutch. When I pulled the cord to start, the motor came to life and I went zooming away completely out of control. Lucky we had unhooked the tether or I would have gone flying when I came to the end of the rope.

Zippy, Steve

Catskill NY, Sept 14, 2013

When the scent of diesel seems as good as the scent of women than you know you have been on the boat too long. Today my cloths even my mustache reek of diesel fuel. The picture is of me in the lazarette holding a glass of diesel fuel to toast my motor.

It was four o'clock and we were motoring up the Hudson as fast as we could go trying to make it to the Riverview marina in Catskill before five, when they closed. Because we were pushing the engine I went down to check to fuel gauge and found that we only had two gallons left. I decided to dump in the five gallons of fuel from our gas can, which we had since filling up in New London. No sooner than I had added the fuel than the engine began to act up. It lost power and we were having problems pushing up against the current and avoiding the large barges coming down the river.

We turned into Esopus creek to get out of the barge traffic and asked a local marina if we could tie up to his fuel dock to change our fuel filters. No, he said, but we could anchor in the creek to work on the filters. My mustache got covered in diesel fuel when I pulled off the fuel intake hose and blew through it to make sure there were no clogs. My cloths got covered in diesel fuel when I was bleeding air from the fuel lines after changing the filters. When you bleed the fuel lines, diesel comes spurting out of the small hose much like urine some times comes spurting out of a baby boy when you change his diapers. This analogy may be stretching things a little but I do uses paper diapers to catch the spurting fuel. I had run out of diapers so the fuel was everywhere.

After an hour and a half with all the filters changed the engine again came to life and we were on our way. We got into Catskill shortly after sunset wearing the strong scent of diesel fuel.

Cheers from sweet scented, Steve