Day 9 - Mon 6 Jun 2016
Anchored – N of Kingston, NY, on the Hudson River

[photo: the W side of the George Washington Bridge near northern Manhattan]

When you are lying in your berth awaiting sleep, you become very aware of how the motions of the water surface in which you are floating occur. There might have been 30 seconds when the boat seemed perfectly still, but then you felt the first little rocking motion from some distant ship’s wake, and then another, and another until the motion built to the point where the creaking of the boat became louder and louder. Certain creaks occur only after the amplitude of the motion exceeds some threshold and you can easily correlate the severity of the motion with the sound.

No large vessel could be passing us closer than a quarter mile, but water transmits those wakes over long distances. Fortunately, we are not in an area where the wakes are reflected to any degree, or this place would be really bad. Diane was not concerned with the motion, but the creaking noises bothered her a lot. I suggested she try the berth on the port side in case they were less over there and she didn’t come back, so I guess they were.

Last evening, just before sunset, the sky cleared enough in the NW that Manhattan was highlighted and quite pretty. Not long after, as the sky darkened after dusk, the lights on the buildings made for a beautiful spectacle. It was one I had seen (in a different form) as a kid in the 60s living literally on the edge of the Palisades cliffs in Union City, NJ. Every day and night, looking out the E facing window of our tenement apartment, that excess of illumination was our view.

Up at 0500 and feeling great, I noted that the fog was obscuring much of Manhattan again, but within an hour it had dissipated. It was nice to see the sun again and unlike the last time we transited the Hudson, the forecast was for clear weather for photos and spectating. All that rain last evening did wash any traces of salt off the boat, and if we avoid any spray activity today, we should be in a fresh water environment for the next 4 months or more.

Being the engineer and data junkie that I am, over a cup of fresh coffee, I decided to further refine our travel plans by looking at how the flooding tide progresses up river. By looking at various current-reporting stations going up 80 miles, it appears that the peak flood current moves about 24 nm northward in an hour’s time. That doesn’t mean the water is moving that fast, of course, since the actual current is only up to a knot or two. It does mean that if you had a fast boat and could maintain about 24 kts over the bottom, you would remain in the fastest fair current all the way up. Our boat will comfortably make 12 kts, so we will have to start before the peak flood, eventually get right in synch with it, and then fall behind somewhat. Our boat could make it up river enough fighting the strong ebb current, but why waste fuel and take more time if you can avoid it?

We weighed anchor and headed into the very busy lower Hudson by 0745. There were numerous tugs and ferries running about, but my limited experience is to keep abreast of where they are relative to you and their relative speeds and courses, but don’t try to out-guess them. They see you and know which terminal they are planning to duck into, and they adjust. If you start changing course or speed, it just frustrates them. Obviously, I am not saying you shouldn’t use normal procedures for keeping clear if you are in a crossing or head-on situation.

Once we got to the N end of Manhattan, near the George Washington Bridge, the vessel traffic was minimal and so were the wakes. The entire time, the weather was gorgeous and the scenery spectacular. About then, we transitioned to our high-speed regime (about 12-13 kts) so that we could keep our travel day under 8 hours and make maximum use of the flood tide. At 1100 we stopped for 15 minutes at Haverstraw to get fuel. We didn’t need it, but the next good fuel stop (pricewise) was quite a few days away and this was a good place to top up.

We didn’t take too many photos because we do not have a great camera and what we take never looks as good as what we see. One very interesting development was seeing another PDQ 34 coming up on our stern. I hailed him (Building Our Wings) and we chatted a bit as they pulled ahead of us – they have the more powerful engines. Shortly after they passed, I spied another PDQ 34 moving along at perhaps 8 kts with a name I could not quite discern. They were sporting a Great Loop burgee, however, so we will likely see them along the way.

It was just after 1500 when we dropped anchor about 8 nm N of Kingston, NY in a place known as Saddle Bags. We are right on the river, but the main navigational channel is on the opposite (E) side, so no large traffic gets closer than about one-half mile. We had one large barge pass us and the wake was very minimal.

We relaxed, showered off the stern with the flexible shower hose, and read until suppertime. The white clam sauce over penne pasta was a big hit and there is more for tomorrow. Diane stayed below to read and I went topside to the flybridge with my music and a beverage. It was a wonderfully comfortable and pretty evening and one to cherish.

Tomorrow, we will probably wait until noonish to move farther N so that we are not fighting the powerful ebb current that still flow over 90 miles N of the ocean. Our destination will probably be Waterford, the stop right before entering the Erie Canal.