The Greatest View Of New York City, From Sailboat

Port Washington to Ellis Island - 21 nautical miles sailed, 3 miles in dinghy

Dad and I sat in the cockpit, the only sailboat in the anchorage, watching the kaleidoscope artwork in progress as the sun dipped down into the horizon, painting and re-painting the Manhattan skyscrapers with shiny hues of gold, silver, burgundy, jaune, chesnut, and emerald. It was a dazzling display and the glittering array of fanciful Lego towers changed by the second as day gave way to night and the reflected light was replaced with radiated light, of all colours, as the city changed again, putting on her evening clothes.

Our morning was one of leisure as we floated in Manhasset Bay. I spent several hours writing while Dad lounged, read a book, and slurped coffee in the growing warmth of the cockpit. Shortly after 11 we threw off the mooring and motored carefully into the town dock where we tied up and used the self-service pump-out machine to clear the holding tank then filled up the water tanks, all for free.

What was difficult, though, was getting off the dock as the strong winds had weakened but were still blowing hard enough on our beam to velcro SeaLight firmly in place. Dad and were not able to get her pushed off the dock. Fortunately there was a bored city worker there who had been leaning on a rail, watching us the entire time, and when I asked him to help he agreed. I first had him and Dad pushing on the boat, which was beginning to work, then the guy's cell phone rang and he abandoned the job to take the call from his wife, keeping his priorities straight. After he had assembled the list of grocery items required for home (loaf of bread, quart of milk, stick of butter, extra-absorbent pads), he rejoined the efforts and all three of us pushed to get her moving then Dad and the guy continued after I hopped aboard. We finally got the bow far enough off the dock for me to hit the gas and Dad managed to snag a shroud and yank himself up and onto the boat as we creeped out, skimming the dock posts by just a few inches, waving goodbye to our helper.

I gave Dad the helm and he piloted us south, following the same track as yesterday, and he did a great job navigating the tricky currents, now flowing southward, once again giving us a nice boost to over 12 knots. The thrill of sailing the length of Manhattan was just as intense as yesterday. I made us a little special lunch along the way to reward Dad for his excellent performance.

Liberty Island and Ellis Island are located just west from the lower end of Manhattan, across the Hudson River. We chose to anchor north of Ellis, giving us the best seat in the house for admiring the big city. Unfortunately, the wakes generated by the many passing boats, mixed with the tidal current, provided a rocky roll as SeaLight swang from side to side and we stabilized ourselves by grabbing her ample appendages without shame.

After dinner we went for a dinghy ride. As we rounded Ellis Island the Statue of Liberty came into view, brilliantly illuminated, with the torch flame a burning red. I thought about the power and cultural influence of American media as I was transfixed by the sight of her - an image I've seen a thousand times in movies, tv, magazines, adverts, eveything. The symbol of America. Justice. Liberty. Freedom. And here we were floating right in front of her, the real thing, in our ten foot dinghy. We remained for a long while, looking at her and taking photos, then powered up the dinghy to plane and circumnavigated the islands, ripping across the flat water, enjoying the thrill of speeding over unknown waters in a known place.

With that, our time in NYC was finished. Tomorrow we will begin the journey north on the Hudson River, riding the flooding tide from 9 am, headed for the town of Haverstraw.

And my dream of experiencing NYC by sailboat, our own sailboat, is now complete.

New York City and Goodbye to Jeff

Haverstraw to Dyckman Marine in the Bronx – 22 nautical miles and 5 kilometers walked

Last night in the anchorage was calm and restful, which was a nice change from the previous afternoon and evening where the wind was howling and gusting up to 40 knots, straining our anchor and dragging us halfway across the bay, which was only fixed by letting out another 50 feet of anchor chain. It was a struggle to dislodge the anchor from the bottom muck, and both the chain and anchor was packed with sticky, black mud, which all splattered all over the boat and anchor hold as I pulled it in.

 

We left Haverstraw at 9:30 am, three of us in a row, 30 minutes short of high tide, following the exact path we took on the way in to avoid bashing into anything. A brisk wind was blowing from the north-west down the river creating large standing waves against the tidal current. We put up our headsail along with the motor and started the day’s travels, which we hoped would end in New York City.

 

We were sailing quite close to Jeff and Ana said, “Hey, look at Jeff.”

 

I looked over and saw him bundled up in his yellow raincoat, with big headphones on and a fuzzy hat, enjoying the ride. “I see him, what’s up?”

 

“I think he’s smoking a cigar.”

 

I looked again and immediately saw a puff of blue smoke erupt from the cockpit. Ana texted him immediately.

 

Why didn’t you tell us you’re a cigar smoker? Kris has some Cubans stashed away and one has your name on it.

 

He’s got Cubans?? If he’s got Cubans then why am I smoking this $11 filth?

 

After an uneventful ride enjoying the beautiful shorelines with the rapidly colouring trees and classy mansions dotted throughout, the outline of the George Washington bridge and skyline of NYC came into view and Ana and I stopped to reflect. Whenever I imagined moments from this trip, the one that immediately came to mind was sailing into NYC, and what that would feel like making it through this first leg of our long journey. I can tell you it felt great, and we took a photo of ourselves on deck to commemorate the moment.

 

Dyckman Marina is a small place right on the Hudson River with two long rows of moorings, stretching out for at least a kilometer. We were put on ball 41, at the end, and learned very quickly how fast the current runs at this end of the river. Navigating the boat up to the mooring back was like being in river rapids. We failed on our first attempt, but the second time around we grabbed the two pennants (these are ropes attached to the top of the mooring ball that float around in the water until you snag them with your boat hook) and cleated them securely to our boat then watched them strain under the weight of a 19,000 pound boat, a 3 - 4 knot current, and 15 knot gusts of wind. We hoped it would hold.

 

After giving Jeff a hand grabbing a mooring, and finding his pennants were crawling with authentic New York sea lice, which Ana squashed indiscriminately, we dinghied into the marina, motored right into the shallow mud flats and stalled it out then had to pry the outboard up and out of the muck, then went to the small office, and paid for a full week of dockage for just US$240. That doesn’t even buy you one night at the cheapest hotel in NYC. Of course, you do have to buy yourself a big boat and take two weeks to sail it here, but never mind – it’s still the best deal in the city. We asked the nice lady there about the safety of the neighbourhood and she said it was very safe during the day, but could get a little “lively” at night. Hmmm, lively. When people tell you their child can get “lively”, that means he’s a real shithead.

 

The neighbourhood was awesome and was just what I’d imagined. People were black, white, Latino, Asian, with a mix of styles and looks, lots of fluffy haired school kids, lots of everybody else too. The streets were lined with all manner of shops and the subway station was a five minute walk from the marina. We noticed several spots where cars had pulled over and were getting washed, so I called over a guy that looked to be running one of them and he happily told us how it worked (you claim a piece of sidewalk, get a permit from the city), the cost ($30 for a car, inside and out), and how there were often a line of cars on the weekend waiting for a wash. We circled the neighbourhood, getting our bearings and a feel for the place we’d be calling home for the next week. We picked up a few things from a grocery store (and found a whole section of Snyder’s snacks), got out some cash, stopped for a coffee and ice tea, then eventually wandered back to the marina and dinghied back to the boat to pick up supplies for the sundowner we’re arranged with the gang.

 

Our first sundowner in the big city was perfect. Sadly, this was to be our last one with Jeff as he planned to leave tomorrow and sail for 16 hours to get to the place in Connecticut where he’d be keeping his boat for a few months to do a bunch of work on it. We sat around, told stories, had a constant barrage of hilarious one-liners from Ben, who has such a sharp wit and a killer sense of humour. Kate has that dry English humour and, though she doensn’t seem to like being the center of attention, comes out with some real crackers, just at the right time. Jeff is a master story teller and has so many interesting and crazy experiences. Plus he’s hilarious. It wasn’t hard to keep ourselves entertained with this crew.

 

After we spotted two skunks, or maybe badgers lurking around the areas we skedaddled back to the dinghies, said our goodbyes, then had a mesmerizing ride beneath the stars, a full moon, and the spectacular lights of the George Washington bridge.

 

It was a good first day.