Day 8 - Sun 5 Jun 2016
Anchored - Ellis Island, NY across from Manhattan

[photo - it rained all day, but finally cleared enough to get this photo of lower Manhattan in the early evening]

The weather turned cool and gray with a threat of rain and storms all day. Nevertheless, we enjoyed a wonderful sleep and awoke feeling blessed to be on this great adventure.

After exchanging emails with a few folks yesterday, I decided that we need to replace all four batteries in the house bank. The owner of the yacht brokerage where we bought our PDQ is leading a flotilla of PDQs through the Trent-Severn Waterway and Georgian Bay this year, and he is arranging for a discounted price for quite a few people who are looking to replace their house batteries, as well. That will take place in Brewerton, along the Erie Canal, in a few weeks.

There was a shoreside festival with lots of tents, live music, and many vendors of one sort or another. We did not go because it started at 1000, it was raining off and on, and we were leaving 1130ish. So, I hoisted and secured the dinghy with the realization that it would probably not be used for several weeks. Why, you ask? Well, for the next day or two as we transit the Hudson, there will be no reason to get off the boat if we are anchored, and pretty much every night on the Erie Canal we will be tied up on a wall of some kind where we can step off and walk ashore.

We ate a quick, early lunch of leftovers and dropped the mooring after a brief rain shower. It stayed clear long enough for us to tie up at a fuel dock where there were no attendants in sight. I assume they wisely decided there would be little boat traffic on this rainy day and stayed a long way away in the main clubhouse. With the notion that sometimes it is easier to ask forgiveness than permission, I disembarked and handed the Diane the water hose. She did the usual drill; you let it run for a 10 count and then taste it. It passed the test, so she filled the tank.

The local water taxi arrived to pick some people up wanting to attend the festival, but the captain told them it was just canceled. They elected to go and find lunch anyway. Continuing on our journey, it took less than 2.5 hours but not one second was boring. The viz varied from one-quarter to one mile in fog, there were enough large and/or fast vessels to keep your attention, and as we progressed farther S in the East River, the fast ebbing current was creating numerous areas of standing waves and swirling currents. Plus, we had heard the Coast Guard announcement that a large piece of floating, wood debris was spotted in the river.

For those not initiated to this particular region, the current ebbs (flows out at low tide) on the East River from Long Island Sound towards lower Manhattan. At peak flow, some areas only see 1 kt or so, but some are 2-3 kts, and one spot (Hell Gate) is close to 5 kts. Going with the flow has the advantage of a free ride, but the faster the flow, the more problems to deal with, such as the aforementioned standing waves and swirls. We handled it all just fine, but we saw to our great surprise, several sailboats trying to "swim upstream" against the peak of the foul current. Either they had to be somewhere and were prepared to fight it, or they were clueless. We did see one boat turn around not far in front of us.

At this point, as a matter of passing on knowledge, I should note that we had several larger vessels (80-150 ft or so) pass us traveling in the opposite direction. They were throwing out a wake as normal, but we happened to be in a confined area where there were solid seawalls on both sides. I turned our vessel to meet the wakes at the best angle, but not long afterwards I had to deal with rather strong wakes from both sides for another quarter-mile or so. These were reflected off the seawall several times and were almost as high and uncomfortable as the original wakes.

This is now the third time we have transited the East River and it was the gloomiest. We could only see the lower 200 feet of all the tall buildings due to the fog. I gave up pointing out interesting landmarks to Diane since they were barely visible. Finally, we reached lower Manhattan where the ferries were numerous and I was quite consumed estimating closing speeds and crossing angles. It isn't fun, but certainly a good challenge.

We crossed the Hudson River to the W side, crabbing to the N since the river was ebbing S at a good clip. We would have been happy to continue up the Hudson had the current been favorable, but you never get to travel S/W on the East River and head upstream on the Hudson with a favorable tide. Our staging destination, therefore, was the N side of Ellis Island, famous for its role in the immigration of yesteryear. We were happy to find the anchorage completely empty, so we picked a spot and set the hook. Within an hour, the drizzle and fog had dissipated somewhat and we could actually see the tops of the Manhattan skyscrapers, including the nearby One World Trade Center.

I had read to expect rather uncomfortable wakes from all the commercial boat traffic running around this area, but for several hours it really was not bad. I suspect being later on a Sun afternoon made a big difference. That didn't last, however, but mainly because the wind and current had moved us a bit so the wakes were hitting us from the beam (side) and making it much more uncomfortable. Overall, though, it was not as bad as many places we have been.

With possibly severe thunderstorms rolling through the area later that evening, I lay down for a long nap so I could be alert later if needed. Diane stayed up, but I was awakened about 1830 when the first squall hit. The wind was moderately strong and gusty, but nothing over 30 kts as far as I could tell. The anchor held fine and since we were no closer than 300 yards to anything, it was not a distressing situation at all.

By 2000, there was actually a faint bit of sunny sky to the NW where the sun was soon to be setting. I'll keep watch for more storms tonight. Tomorrow about 0800 we weigh anchor to catch the flood current up the Hudson probably 80 miles or so.