THANK YOU, HENRY

Since leaving the Bear Mountain area, the land surrounding the river has opened up more, and there are fewer dramatic mountains right next to the river. The exception, though, is Storm King Mountain, elevation 1350'. It juts right out to the western edge of the river. If you look closely you can see a notch where the scenic highway runs along the outer edge. In the distance we can see some of the peaks of the mountains which are part of the Catskill range.

Storm King Mountain

The sprawling West Point facility extends all the way down to the river and takes up several hillsides. The older buildings look like a medieval castle fortress. Before 9/11 passing cruisers could tie up at the facility docks and take a tour. I could see groups of people walking around, and I figured they might be new recruits, with their parents, getting ready to begin the Fall school term. It was very disconcerting not to see an American flag flying at the facility until we got all the way around to the northern end of the campus, where the buildings are set back farther from the river.

West Point

With the flatter land areas on the nearby hillsides we can see large estate homes, old mansions, colleges, and government buildings of various ages and architectural designs. There are numerous tour boats, some replica crafts of days gone by, that probably tell their travelers the names and histories of the buildings we are seeing. There is lot to see, so those cruisers can't be bored.

Tourists and the Culinary Institute of America

A lot of the hillside buildings are too far away to be able to photograph well, but we can get real close to the lighthouses, some of which have very unique styles and their own interesting locations. The Esopus lighthouse, built in 1872, is one of the few that we've seen that has marked a mud river shoal; when we passed it was low tide, revealing a huge mud flat.

Esopus Lighthouse

The new Queen of the Hudson had her 11th birthday while we were underway. I baked a cake, so that she could watch the rest of the crew eat it on her behalf. She got to lick one of the plates.

Anticipation

We decided to visit Kingston, the original capital of New York. Our cruising guides suggested possible anchorages in Rondout Creek which flows right along the original Kingston waterfront. It is easy to see why Kingston was such an important shipping center of commerce and business; the creek is very deep and wide for quite a distance, and it has a broad entrance right off the river, marked by the beautiful 1915 Rondout lighthouse, the last family occupied lighthouse on the Hudson. However, it is now filled with many marinas, boatyards, bulkheads, and docks and a gazillion vessels of various sorts. We took FLUKE about 3.5 miles up the creek almost to the low, fixed bridge before we ran out of water. The farther in we went the more apparent it was that FLUKE was one of its own kind; most of the other boats were smaller day or weekend cruisers, and they were packed in for Saturday fun along the docks and beached on the sand bars. There was no room for us, so we slowly headed back to the Hudson.

Rondout Lighthouse

We ended up dropping the hook just south of the lighthouse off Port Ewen, a hamlet community located on the south side of Rondout Creek. Even though we weren't that far from the main channel the wakes from passing boats weren't too bothersome, we had a great breeze, and we could watch the boating traffic on the river.

Sunday was slated to be a going to land day, starting out with a walk on land with Ursa to check out the residential community of Port Ewen, or so we thought. Cruisers frequently have a problem trying to find a place to safely land their dinghy when they are anchored out. We couldn't see a boat ramp from the river, but we could see a private yacht club called Hidden Harbor. We dinghied over to it and asked if we could land our dinghy and go for a walk, but were told that, for “insurance reasons” unless we were a member or guest of a member we couldn't land. I wondered if the rangers at Bear Mountain had notified the communities along the way about our “criminal” record of behavior.

There was a town “beach” right next to the yacht club where we may have been able to land the dinghy, but the whole shoreline area in front to about 100 yards out into the river was filled in with this noxious, invasive weed called Chinese water chestnut. Since we hadn't had any experience with that pest, we wondered if we could motor through what looked like a thin section. Big mistake. We went about 10' before the prop was fouled. That plant is all connected underneath the water to each other plant like a big piece of lace, and then many of the sections are rooted. To make matters worse, the plant has these hard, bladder-like floating bulbs the size of a silver dollar that are prickly. Wayne got stuck having to pull the plants out of the prop and then got real grumpy.

The Weed Barricade

Besides the weed problem, Wayne was already “disturbed” because we had gotten run off from the yacht club, not that the guy who told us we couldn't land was rude about it. Wayne just doesn't like a negative encounter with anyone. I, on the other hand, take the attitude that it doesn't hurt to ask, and we won't be shot or even arrested for trying. Plus, we will never see that person again, so who cares what he thinks of us. Let's just have a life list draw!

So, back to the point I'm trying to make. We still hadn't reached land. I had noticed that on the east side of the river there appeared to be some sort of public landing area that had been getting filled up with colorful tents all morning. I suggested that we cross over the river and go investigate that activity. I said tents like that were usually associated with some special event and we had nothing more to lose if we went to check it out. Since that logic prevailed, we motored across the river.

We discovered Rhinecliff, the hamlet of Rhinebeck, a dutch town from 1696. The town was having their annual Waterfront Day, and the people were very friendly (both to people and dogs), receptive to questions and more than willing to share information. Many of the Hudson River communities are holding events throughout the year to recognize the quadracentennial birthday of Henry Hudson discovering the Hudson River, 1609-2009. Vendor tents sold shirts commemorating the discovery. There were water safety displays, craft sales, food sales, face painting, fund raiser projects (trolley, fire, library, museum), and educational exhibits. The Coast Guard had one of the boats they use to service channel markers docked with a channel marker aboard and free tours. We checked out all the exhibits and took a walk up into town to look at the old homes and buildings. We wanted Ursa to have a nice walk since she would be confined on FLUKE during the afternoon.

Toy Boat

After lunch, we dinghied back up Rondout creek to visit the Hudson Maritime Museum and the Kingston waterfront area. Since we were going to visit the museum ($4 admission fee) we could dock in one of their slips. Even though there is a municipal marina there is no official free public landing area. Like many small towns, Kingston is having a difficult time trying to keep its waterfront alive and doesn't have the funds to keep up enough dock space even though there is plenty of room available. The museum is housed in one of the old waterfront brick commercial buildings and relies on volunteers to keep the place running.

Hudson River Maritime Museum

This museum is the only one featuring the Hudson River along the entire 300 miles of its length. Most of the displays feature old photographs, models, and various parts and memorabilia from the early days of river life on the Hudson. You can travel through time from its original discovery by Henry Hudson and his 60' sailing ship, the Half Moon. Oddly, Hudson was hired by the Dutch government to find a trading route that could be used to connect Asia and the Orient. Even though he didn't accomplish his goal, he opened up the river route to the development of many coastal communities that became important centers for the military and commerce which help develop the wealth and success of early America.

There are displays featuring the development of the steamboat and how important those ships became for moving people and goods along the river. There is even a section devoted to the importance of the river lighthouses, with a scaled replica of the Rondout lighthouse, as seen in the background behind me in the steamboat wheel photo.

Too Big For FLUKE

There are also some educational displays and a video about the ecology of the Hudson River and its importance as a major source of drinking water for millions of people. One segment even talks about that awful pest weed that we tangled with. The river is an important habitat for sturgeon and stripers. The peregrine falcon, once extirpated from the river, has been reintroduced and is making a comeback, nesting in the high bridges that cross the river. The bald eagle has established several nesting habitats; we saw one flying right alongside of us this morning! For a little place, there is something that should interest everyone.

There are many interesting-looking store fronts and buildings in the old waterfront area, but most of them are vacant. At least they aren't all beat up and do look nice from the outside The main street is on a steep hill sloping all the way down to the water's edge; it is good exercise to walk up to the top. If you ask someone for directions, they reply by saying it's either up or down the hill. We walked to a Stewart's convenience store, all up hill and then some, probably about a mile. There are some nice views of the river from way up on the hillside.

The Main Drag

Arriving back to FLUKE in the later part of the afternoon helped us avoid being aboard during the Sunday driver wakes for the most part. We began to discuss the plans for the next couple of days of travel, where we would need to find a calm anchorage so we could lower the mast and get ready to pass through the first lock and extra low bridge. Both of those events should be good for some yelling and anal distress!

IT'S A BEAR OF A MOUNTAIN!

August 14, 2009

Permanently Trapped

The last couple of mornings have been foggy, but once the fog lifts, we've had nice blue skies with puffy white clouds. The temperature gets up in the 80s during the day, but cools off in the 60s at night, which is a welcomed relief from all the heat over the last couple of months. We can't see very far in the distance, east or west because of the high mountains, so we won't have much visual notice of a weather change when it comes. At least Eddie always manages to watch the weather on TV, and we try to get a report when we can connect to the internet, so we won't be caught totally off guard.

Fog Spilling Over the Mountaintop

We are now in a section of the river where there are train tracks running just above the shoreline on both sides of the river; the east side serves a commuter/passenger train, and the west side serves a freight line. I had no idea how many times a day trains would be running on the tracks, and how loud the horns sound. Since it is so rocky right down to the water, there are many tunnels. When we passed West Point, the freight train track went right under the campus!

Moving America By Rail

Our first destination was to stop at an anchorage near Bear Mountain, elevation 1305'. Several years ago, before we had FLUKE, we rode over the Bear Mountain bridge and looked down at a replica pirate ship cruising on the river. I said to myself, someday I'm going to be down there on my own boat, so I was smiling smugly as we rounded the mountain and the bridge became visible in the distance.

Bear Mountain Bridge

The Bear Mountain bridge was built in 1924 and was the world's largest suspension bridge. It was built by the Harriman family and operated as a toll bridge (probably profitably!) until it was sold to the government in 1940. The bridge is very pretty, framed between the mountains, with Anthony's Nose mountain (950'), being the one on the east side that is visible in the photo where the bridge connects to the land. You hikers will be interested to know that this is where the Appalachian Trail crosses the Hudson River.

The anchoring area near the bridge's western side, on the south side of the public dock, is very small, especially for deep draft vessels like FLUKE. The deep river shallows out to a small ledge of about 25' deep and then goes up rapidly to 5' and less. With the swift currents of the Hudson that change direction with the tides, you have to make sure you get your anchor set securely. We dropped the hook in 20' of water, and by the time we pulled out the chain and set the anchor, our depth gauge was reading 55'. This photo shows it is worth the stop; FLUKE is secure with Anthony's Nose in the background.

FLUKE and Anthony's Nose

Another reason we wanted to anchor here was to go ashore and explore some of the areas of Bear Mountain State Park. While going to the summit was out of our scope for the day, there was still a lot to see.

After hitting the dock bulkhead with the prop (luckily, no damage), we landed the dinghy at a nice floating dock. Not knowing much about the crime rate in the park, we wanted to lock up the dinghy with our steel cable, but we only brought the cable and not the lock to shore. Typical. So, we took our chances and just pretended the steel cable was secured from the dinghy to the dock. We would learn later that day that we weren't the only ones to use the fake lock trick.

Right after we left the dock area, we had to pass through a tunnel to get us safely under the freight train track. Then, we could work our way up the side of the mountain on a nice path with a waterfall and overlooks of our anchorage, the bridge, and the eastern shore. There is a huge stag sculpture mounted on the side of the hill, overlooking the river. It is really designed to be viewed from the water, and it is quite visible when you are looking up from way down below. Eddie had to climb around the barricade and look at it up close.

Wayne Notices The Tunnel Is Older Than Eddie

This Stag Is A Big One

There is a gigantic swimming pool that was built in a ravine area. It is quite interesting as the rock walls come right down to the pool deck. The main walkway is on an elevated platform above the pool area with overlooks of the nearby treetops and mountains in the distance. You can see the pool area had a lot of activity. You have to walk through the pool platform to be able to get to the upper level picnic area, lake, and the Bear Mountain Lodge and Inn. Because there were so many people in this area, Wayne carried Ursa. I was beginning to wonder why we hadn't seen another dog since we had left the river dock.

A Pool With A View

We had to pass through yet another tunnel to get under a highway before we reached the main picnic area. There is a huge concession stand, many picnic tables, and Lake Hessian. The iron grills are so cute; Eddie is standing by an owl. They also had a pig (I really wanted Eddie by that one), and a bird, and some other creature I couldn't figure out. There is no swimming in the mountain lake, but you can rent rowboats if you want a good workout.

Who Is The Wiser

Hessian Lake

The parking lot is adjacent to the Bear Mountain Lodge and Inn, opposite of the way we had entered the park, but we wanted to see the lodge, so we walked over there. The lodge has been closed for 6 years, undergoing renovations for another 12 months, but it is a nice looking, rustic, log cabin style building in a beautiful setting with an impressive view of the surrounding mountains. That is where we saw the sign that said there were no dogs allowed in the park, explaining why Ursa was the only canine to grace the park that afternoon. I guess the economy has forced a cut back in park police because we never saw one to tell us to get rid of the dog.

The final part of the afternoon was spent walking to Fort Montgomery. It is accessed from the park by having to go through a “zoo” area, interpretive walking paths (part of which is the Appalachian Trail), geological displays, and a couple of small museum buildings. It is an area full of information about the flora, fauna, and geological history of the area, all concise and interesting if you have the time to read the little signs. We saw the sign that said no dogs allowed, but it was the only way to get to the Fort Montgomery area, so we decided to risk it.

Forts Montgomery and Clinton, both on park property, were used in the Revolutionary War to try to keep the British from moving up the Hudson. They are in a narrow part of the river, so they could defend the waterway fairly well from shore, high up on the adjacent cliffs. Plus, they placed a huge chain across the river designed to slow the movement of the British ships. The British did manage to break through the blockade, but many of the base structures are still visible, and the view from the Fort is worth the walk. I learned in those days they called a latrine, a soldier's necessary. The one in the fort looked a lot more secure than the one we saw hanging off the side of the Tappan Zee bridge! This huge freighter went by when we were at the overlook where the cannons were mounted.

Two Giants

When we left the fort and headed back to the park path area, the sign said that the gate was locked at 4:30, and we were there at 5:00. Sure enough, the gate was closed, and there was a lock in it. However, Eddie went up to inspect the gate more closely and saw that, while the lock was in the gate, it hadn't been pushed closed. So, we “broke” in and headed back toward the dock area. There were no other people in that section of the park. We knew we had to get through another gate on the opposite end, but I had paid attention to it when we went through it in the first place and thought we could climb over it. When we got to it, there were two park personnel there, locking it up. When they saw us, although annoyed, they opened the gate back up and didn't bother asking where we came from or why we had a dog in that area anyway. I think they just wanted to go home and not have to deal with any problems, not that we looked like trouble makers anyway. We may look old enough now to have younger people think that we are just slow and in a befuddled state a lot of the time, so we will be able to safely get away with more stuff like that. We are really sly foxes in wrinkled clothing.

When we got back to the dock we were relieved to see that no one had molested our dinghy. Back to FLUKE for a fish dinner of grouper and hogfish, frozen from our spearfishing adventures. Then, it was falling asleep with the rustle of the railroad tracks nearby and the cool mountain air coming in the ports.

GRAY DAY ON THE LOWER HUDSON

The sun never appeared today, August 13, 2009. We would have been depressed having to travel all the way through New York harbor in the gray haze visible in the photo if we hadn't already cruised through the harbor on a stellar day in years past. However, we had to wear long sleeves!

As Lower Manhattan Appears in the Mist

We still had to keep our eyes sharp (including the Helm Queen) with all the ferries, barges, water taxis, and commercial vessels underway or anchored in the huge harbor; with the terrible weather there were very few recreational boats like us. There was a regular broadcast from the Coast Guard telling marine traffic a restricted zone had been established in the area where the plane and helicopter had crashed. When we went by, there were several police boats forming a barricade and a barge with a crane on it. Eddie heard on the news they were getting ready to move the wreckage to Delaware today.

The Helm Queen

Traffic thinned out a lot once we got close to the George Washington bridge and began the northern stretch up the Hudson River. The scenery began changing on the port (west) side of the river with a higher, steeper bank. At the base of the GW bridge sits a pretty little lighthouse, now out of service, since if you can't see the bridge, seeing the lighthouse would be less likely. In which case, you shouldn't be on the river in the first place.

No Light, But Still Bright

The scenery really kicked up a notch again, once we entered the area known as the Palisades. Gone was the metropolis surroundings of the NYC area skyscrapers, replaced with 300-500' cliffs made of columnar basalt. The name is derived from their similarity to the old wooden barrier fortifications. The picture taken on this cloudy day doesn't do justification to how spectacular they appear as you look up at them from the river below.

Palisade Barrier

We were only making about 6 KTS of speed going against the current, so there was plenty of time to see the scenes. Passenger commuter trains were on the tracks that snake along the east shore, serving the local communities and going into NYC. Their mild horn blows provided a quaint backdrop to the hum of our engine. Our sounds were drowned out when we passed under the noisy, ugly, 138' high Tappan Zee bridge. It is having some kind of undercarriage work done, and the porta potty platforms suspended off the sides of the bridge caught my attention. I speculated if they just pulled a plug to drain them!

When You Gotta Go, You Go Anywhere

Since everyone likes lighthouses,including myself I'm always on the alert for them. Once an important navigation aid for the early days of river traffic, they are decommissioned and mostly used as park areas. This one was in such nice shape it deserves some recognition.

Someone Cares

In the movies you always hear about the bad guys (or those so wrongly convicted) getting sent to Sing Sing prison to do their time. We passed right by the sprawling complex. Some of those convicted felons are privy to spectacular scenery. The Fall foliage and snow on the cliffs must be gorgeous!

I Didn't Really Do It, Judge

We called it an early day at 2:30 p.m., not far beyond the prison, where there is a wide area in the river that affords suitable protection from the wind and current, Croton Point. It is across the river from Haverstraw, NY. The state of New York is now on both sides of the river, when we started up river New Jersey was on our port side. Shortly after we had the anchor down, several ducks showed up, thinking BOAT meant “bring out another treat”. This duck had some kind of attachment; perhaps she was on day leave from Sing Sing!

You Can't Tie Me Down