On Friday, Joe and I once again braved thick fog but slightly reduced seas (three feet) to travel the 50 offshore miles from Manasquan to North Cove Marina at Liberty Park in NYC. We tried to time the trip to avoid a nasty frontal passage; we didn't succeed so we tucked into a bay off the channel west of Sandy Hook and heaved to. Fortunately, the front passed with nasty cells north and south of us and we were spared all but a steady rain and light wind.
In my last blog, I mentioned things jumping out of the fog to bite you. I had been watching a small radar blip coming against us down the south ship channel into New York Harbor and was slowly moving to starboard to avoid it. When I looked up, a large container ship was looming over us! Whoa! We throttled up, turned perpendicular to the channel, and made feet to give way. As we say in Maine, "That wer a close un!"
I have been looking forward to arriving in New York on our own boat since we started planning our Loop. Sadly, the weather was lousy but it was still a thrill. As our first hint that we were closing in, the Verrazano Bridge appeared in the foggy, rainy distance.
Siting the Verrazano got the juices up and the anticipation for the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.
Sure enough, they, too, emerged from the fog and rain. And, of course along with them, the Staten Island Ferry and a covy of tour boats, tugboats, and other vessels to be navigated around appeared like magic.
Finally, we arrived at North Cove Marina at Liberty Park immediately adjacent to the World Trade Center and the 9-11 Memorial. What a spectacular site though its beauty and vibrancy in my mind will forever be tinged by memory of the horror and loss of 9-11.
As much as I enjoyed being with Admiral Dyer and as excited as I was to arrive in New York on my very own boat, I was even more enthusiastic to greet the true Admiral of the Katahdin Fleet, Mrs. Hewett. She flew down to join Joe and me for a weekend in New York (how could she resist) and the final leg of this chapter from NYC up to Half Moon Bay. Ever the take charge planner, she had organized dinners and the Broadway musical, Smash, for us. Of course, Joe and I, who had lived for two weeks on peanut butter pretzels and fried oysters while wearing dirty shorts and t-shirts, had to clean up for her presence. I won't speak for me but Joe cleans up pretty well!
Saturday morning, Admiral Hewett requested a tour of New York Harbor and Joe and I happily obliged. We cast off to see the sights and immediately were passed by a large cruise ship headed up to the West Side Cruise Ship Terminal. It's amazing to be sharing the Harbor with these behemoths!
Next stop was the Statue of Liberty where a fellow Looper kindly took pictures of us in return for us taking pictures of his boat. I will treasure this picture for a long time!
After the Statue of Liberty, we rounded Governors Island and headed up the East River
to the Brooklyn Bridge, another New York icon. While cruising up to the bridge we
enjoyed seeing Cuauhtémoc, the Mexican Navy's training ship docked at Pier 17. Sadly, only hours later, the ship would suffer a huge calamity when its masts struck the Brooklyn Bridge killing two and injuring 22.
We turned around at the Bridge and cruised back past the lower tip of Manhatten and up the Hudson to mid-town. Joe caught a wonderful picture of the Admiral and I enjoying the tour with the World Trade Center in the background.
For some reason, our radar wouldn't work while we were out on the Harbor tour--not a big deal as Saturday morning offered good visibility. When we returned to North Cove, Joe and I turned too to figure out that problem while Admiral Hewett headed off to see Alexader Hamilton's grave--a bucket list item for her. I'm happy to say we were all successful. In our case, after an hour of trying this and trying that, a simple reboot of the entire electronics suite brought our radar returns back. In the Admirals case, she got her history fix and her photo shot.
That afternoon, we rode uptown to the Imperial Theater to see Smash, a wonderful musical about making a movie about Marilyn Monroe. The singing and dancing astounded us as only shows on Broadway can.
We followed the show with a drink in Mid-Town, a long taxi ride back downtown, and a wonderful early dinner at Scalini Fedeli a 15 minute walk from the boat. Some folks just get it right and, at Scalini Fedeli, the customer service, warmth of the staff, quality of the food, and a fantastic bottle of wine just made the evening. And, of course, it helped that Joe treated! We all talked a big game about going back to the boat for a celebratory whiskey coupled with pate'. When we arrived, however, the exhausted crew went straight to bed--whiskey and pate' would have to wait for another occasion.
Sunday morning, we left North Cove a little before 9:00 for the two plus hour cruise up the Hudson to Half Moon Bay. While you'd think the river would be quiet at that hour, a surprising number of tugs and barges, ships, and even a dredge plied the waters and had to be navigated around. As the weather cleared, the wind came up and the promised 15-20 with 30 mph gusts turned into 25-30 with higher gusts. Our arrival at Half Moon Bay Marina was bumpy to say the least and even behind their wooden slat breakwater we were exposed to a very stiff chop and significant gusts. Those conditions made turning and backing a 15 foot wide boat into a 16 foot wide slip quite a challenge. I'm happy to say we made it on the first try. With two Admirals providing direction and watching closely, who would want to have a problem? And with that docking complete, Joe and I had traveled almost exactly 1000 miles from Charleston in 12 days with ten of them underway--1000.0273 to be precise or just 100 miles per traveling day.
Once we got tied up, both Admirals abandoned me with Joe taking a car to Penn Station and Jackie to Laguardia. I stuck around to redo lines, clean the boat, catch up on laundry, and close up for two weeks. I'm glad I did because it got even more rough as the day and night wore on. With the wind backing around, what had been quite violent pitching turned into a nasty roll with Katahdin's rail banging against the piling opposite the dock and waking me up at midnight. It sounded like you were on the inside of an oil drum while someone banged on it with a sledge hammer. For the first time, I used the brilliant emergency headlamp I keep next to the berth and my ever present and oft-worn life jacket to go out in the dark and tighten lines. I'm happy to say I was able to stop the banging and all looked good at first light when I left to go to Newark airport for my flight to Key West. That said, I will worry constantly about Katahdin until I reunite with her on June 3. As nice and helpful as the people at the marina are, I will not leave a boat at Half Moon Bay again.
The adventure continues! Didn't know you were going to Key West for a couple of weeks. Hope you accomplish whatever you're aiming for. And I hope the Katahdin does well in Half Moon Bay Marina in your absence.
Another excellent entry. You’re making me almost miss NYC!