The Yellow Deli

Coxsackie, New York - 10 kilometres walked

I woke up to find a large tree jammed beneath the dock and floating perilously close to SeaLight's rudder. After loosening the dock lines I used a boat hook to pull out the tree and guide it alongside the boat until it was free to continue its journey to New York City on the ebbing tide.

This part of the Hudson is almost entirely fresh water but the river still changes direction four times a day with the tides pushing in salty water further downstream, but not as far north as Coxsackie. I still have a hard time comprehending how a river can flow backwards; one would think this would simply flood the banks of the river and streams, but I suppose nature has this all figured out after doing it for millions of years.

After a leisurely morning on the boat I took a walk to the Coxsackie Yacht Club to check on the Hibiscus II. Our Quebecer friends Jonathan and Isabelle had left their boat here and gone home last weekend and I said I'd check on it for them. I walked through downtown then cut north onto a small paved roadway with some houses, but mostly forest on both sides. The Hibiscus II was the only boat in the marina and the yacht club was deserted except for one guy waxing his boat. I spoke to him for a while and asked why there were no other boats in yet.

"Becuase nobody helps!" he said, frustrated. "We're a working club here, but when the scheduled day to put in the docks arrived, only two people showed up. So we're way behind schedule."

"I'm in a working club too," I replied, "but fortunately we have a lot of enthusiastic volunteers who help. Yes, it's usually the same people, but we're making progress on getting everybody involved. Not easy though, people are busy," I said.

"Well, people around here are losing interest and it's getting more and more expensive to own a boat. There's only one mechanic left in the area and he's retiring next year and I don't even know where you'd go in the northern Hudson to get boat repairs done. No young people are getting into the business or even boating in general - it's all old geezers like me. Not sure what's going to happen."

It's a much different boating scene here in New York. In south-western Ontario, most marinas open around April 15th and start dropping in boats immediately. By this time of the year, the majority of the boats are in the water and the frenzy of boat preparation in the dry dock yards has typically been underway since late March and early April. Not so here - they seem to be at least a month behind us, which really surprises me.

I continued my walk, up and down the hilly streets of Coxsackie until I found myself in the library where I browsed some magazines and skimmed through their decent collection of books. I then went over to The Yellow Deli, which was the only eatery open in downtown, and sat down for a birthday lunch. When Ana and I passed through here on the way south we'd eyed this place up as it looked very interesting, but it had been closed for the month for owner vacation so we couldn't try it.

Well, The Yellow Deli is an intriguing place with a fascinating story. There are around forty of them in operation, mostly in the US, but also worlwide in nine other countries. I picked up a flyer which had their story and, to sum it up, the cafes are all run as a single business, by a self-described selfless religious hippie commune focused on love and "serving the fruit of the Spirit", spawned in the 70's as a revolt against organized religion and the fatal flaws of human life - selfishness, greed, jealousy, envy, strife, hostility, and bloodshed.

I don't know about all that, but they sure do make a killer chili, luscious sourdough bread, and a spectacular Reuben sandwich. And the interior of the cafe is beautiful, with rough cut lumber, custom leatherwork, custom ironwork, a pot bellied wood stove, and long-haired and gentle hippie-men serving and making food.

I dragged my abundantly nourished body back to SeaLight, relaxed in the cockpit with a book, and enjoyed the sunshine streaming in while I let my digestive system process the formidable lunch.

After this, I decided to be productive and grabbed my bottle of Barkeepers Friend (since 1882) cleaner and a toothbrush and started scrubbing the rust off the boat shrouds, which are the braided stainless steel lines that attach the mast and spreaders to the boat deck. The previously shiny and pristine wire had succumbed to the cruel salt of the Caribbean and were streaked with rust. It is a very slow process, but the magic paste and vigorous brushing does remove all of it. I managed to clean two sections of it but there is much more to do. Fortunately, I have plenty of time on my hands.

I had a lovely, long video chat with Ana, Magnus, and Stella then made myself a dinner of lamp chops, zucchini, Greek lemon potatoes, and fresh salad and ate it slowly in the cockpit to the changing colours of the setting sun and sounds of fishermen still casting lines from the shore.