Advanced Anchoring and Woodchuck Hunting in Poughkeepsie

Haverstraw to Poughkeepsie, New York - 33 nautical miles sailed, 2 miles in dinghy, 6 kilometres walked

The water was flat, sky was clear, current was mild, and winds were slight as we coasted out the anchorage channel entrance on an ebbing tide and into the Hudson River. We weren't sure of our destination today so just started motoring north.

Dad was again at the helm as I took advantage of the down time to do some writing. It was a truly lovely morning as we passed through the most scenic part of the Hudson with the towering cliffs on both sides, blanketed with forest and sporadic mansions, rail tracks on the waterfront with toy trains passing frequently, small boats with fisherman catching striped bass, tugs pushing barges decorated with piles of gravel and sand, swans in flight, and Canada geese patrolling the shallows. We averaged 4.8 knots, despite traveling against the tide, which became weaker the further north we travelled.

We settled on an anchorage at the town of Poughkeepsie (Poh-kipsy), but it was a difficult anchorage as the deep water of the Hudson shallowed rapidly, leaving only a small strip of anchorable water and a current that reversed four times per day. We first dropped the anchor in 12 feet of water and let out 50 feet of chain, then waited to see how the boat reacted. Well, the boat reacted by swinging into shore and sticking the rudder in mud. We put the boat in reverse to unstick it, then as we moved into deeper water the anchor pulled free. We were going to need two anchors for this one. We again set the anchor (this is where you pull on it until it sinks into the bottom and holds the boat) in about 12 feet of water then I got in the dinghy and Dad passed me the secondary Danforth anchor, cleated it to the stern of the boat, then fed out rode as I motored backwards. I dropped the anchor in 10 feet of water then returned to the boat, but the Danforth pulled free as we tried to set it. So I went back out, pulled it up by hand, then had to pry out all the thick, grey mud that had accumulated on the flukes, which was mostly transfered to beneath my fingernails. I dropped the anchor in four feet of water then returned to the boat and we set the stern anchor then we snugged up the front anchor so that both lines were taut and the boat would remain stationary throughout the current changes and not swing into the shallows. Advanced Anchoring Techniques were complete for the day.

The radar showed some large storm cells approaching and we didn't have to wait long until we were hit with a grey sheet of furious rain, enough to evacuate the cushions and pillows from the cockpit as drips started to fall from the canvas in known weak points. We got out the cards and played games for a least an hour as the rain battered the boat, giving her a nice washdown. As quickly as the rains had arrived, they departed and the sun reappeared, drying out the landscape.

We dinghy'd across the river to the Poughkeepsie waterfront and locked up to the free dock, which was located directly in front of a lovely restaurant with an outdoor patio, dotted with locals enjoying an afternoon brew. We walked north along a scenic waterfront trail, full of families out enjoying the Saturday afternoon, and it led to a large structure pumping out 80's dance tunes and wafting food smells. I first thought it was a bar, but when we approached we saw it was an event organized for a local marathon, full of runners loading up on carbs in the form of pasta and beer.

The trail led us to an old house where we spotted a big fat woodchuck mosying around. Dad hustled up there, anxious to poke it in the face with a stick or something, but as he approached the little beast wisely disappeared into a hole beneath the concrete steps. Dad jumped up and down trying to scare him out but he did reappear. We moved on.

Nearby was a massive pedestrian bridge that spanned the Hudson and an elevator which ascended to the walking surface, but the elevator was closed so we took the long route back south, up into the town, past the classy train station, then through a slightly skiddish-looking neighbourhood, until we finally reached the bridge and scrambled up a dirt hill to get to it instead of walking round the other side and using the stairs like all the regular people.

The Walkway Bridge Over The Hudson was amazing. It had been converted from an old railway bridge and repurposed as a pedestrian-only walkway. It was at least thirty feet across and had marked walking and bike lanes with plenty of people moving in both directions on foot, bike, hoverboard, roller skate, and scooter. Every hundred metres was a poster board explaining some historical curiosity about the bridge, or a viewpoint map, or a dedication, or historical images. We stopped to read most of these as we were in no hurry.

After reaching the other side then turning around and walking back across, stopping to take a few photos of the magnificent vista, we reached the elevator and it was now operational. It had been closed earlier for the passing storms. We rode it down and it deposited us back to the venue with the marathon party where we tried to sneak in to get free food and beer and swag bag, but the lady had one look at me in my stained Carhartt dungarees, flip-flops, and tie-dyed Sailorman t-shirt and said, "No sailors allowed." It was worth a try.

Back at the boat we got ourselves settled into the cockpit with happy hour drinks and watched the world go by. A small fish, close to death, floated to the surface and skimmed and flopped around, inviting a fast finish. We watched, hoping for a chunky bass to gobble it up, or maybe an eagle to swoop down and grab it, but the poor guy continued to jerk around until he was carried into the current and swept away. I presume the predators thought it was too good to be true and suspected a trap.

A train approached, blasting its horn. From the colours and shapes of the cars we guessed the contents. First were fifteen cars full of red gummy bears. Then fifteen cars of green gummy bears. Then fifteen cars of yellow gummy bears. Then a dozen full of patio furniture. Then twenty or so with iPhone cases. Then came a hundred laden with fuel oil. Then another forty jammed with fertilizer. Then there were three at the end loaded with cases of Jim Beam bourbon. We could play this game all night.

My mom called from Saskatoon. All of her brothers and sisters were gathered there for a surprise birthday for my uncle Blaine, who hit the 65 milestone. I got to talk to all of them and it was awesome. It reminded me that I need to get Magnus and Stella to take a side trip to Alberta next time they are out west to get to know all the aunts, uncles, and cousins who live there.

Around 8 pm we decided it was time for Taco Tuesday, on Saturday, and we put together a marvellous spread with hard and soft taco shells, a delightful beef and corn mixture, cilantro, onion, cucumber, tomato, lettuce, and Special Sauce. We dined in the cockpit as we admired the spectacular view of the pedestrian and traffic bridges, now both lighted in vibrant colours, as the fine folk of Poughkeepsie partied hard into the night.