Statue of Liberty, Manhattan... Hell's Gate
A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Mon 27 Jun 2011 16:52
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40:49.86N
73:42.88W
If only Timo and Edmund had been onboard, as they
are natives of these parts. I think they'd have been pretty excited to sail up
the East River.
The day began, as many aboard Summer Song have,
near a place called Poole. Poole, New Jersey, in this case. Aboard were Marina,
Paul, with whom we've been staying for the last couple of days, and Andrey
Benzeman - a friend of Marina's from her New York days. There was little more
than a gentle breeze to waft us through the curatin of steel chugging in and out
of New York Harbour, so we donked most of the way in.
With a mixture of awe and disbelief we buzzed past
the Statue of Liberty - much smaller in real life than I'd expected. It's still
hard to believe that we've come all this way in Summer Song - 9,000 miles to
date. At times like this, Alex and I find ourselves skipping from one leg to the
other in excitement and laughing hysterically. Even the New Yorkers aboard were pretty excited as we turned east towards
Manhattan. Viewed from the water, the forest of towers and skyscrapers rose in a
prospect that changed as our perspectvie shifted. There was a glimpse of
the Empire State Building or a view down a cross street bristling with stop
lights.
Our plan had been to drop the daytrippers at the
East River's only marina - a ramshackle agglommeration of buildings marked
accurately with the word 'sewer' on the chart. As Alex made our final approach,
there was a roar and a seaplane banked round over the bow and flopped into the
water a hundred yards ahead, before taxi-ing in to the marina. Suddenly it was
rush hour, and we had to dodge the planes to reach a pontoon. No sooner had we
done so, than a fellow in red scurried up to take the stern line and inform us
that the charge for setting down passengers was $3 per foot. This would have put
our two minute stay at over $100. Tough negotiation ensued, included a superb
dying swan act from Marina, which chipped the price down to $40. In a rapid
'kiss and donk' manoeuvre, we dropped our passengers and shoved off
quickly into the East River.
Now, our pilot guide advises that the best way to
transit the East River is to leave Manhattan's south tip two hours after low
tide. This is supposed to ensure that you get wafted gently through the 11-mile
river to Long Island Sound at the other end with ne'er a contrary current. We
were surprised, then, to see the boatspeed drop to 4 knots, then three, then two
and under as we stemmed the tide. A notorious pinch point called Hell's Gate can
pitch four knots of swirling, eddying current against you, and sure enough, it
took us an hour to travel little more than a mile. By now it was dark, and when
we reached our anchorage off the infamous prison at Riker's Island, we found it
lay directly under the approach to La Guardia airport.
But as 747s roared overhead, their wheels trailing
just over Summer Song's mast to touch down a few hundred yards south, it turned
out not to be the planes the kept us up. While we anchored, an entire
empire of mosquitoes established itself in the cabin, to spend the night buzzing
in my ear. Sleep was not forthcoming.
Several coffees later, Summer Song is on a mooring
at Port Washington, where she'll stay for two nights while we hit the
city...
At the Romano's house in New Jersey
 Marina and Andrey Benzeman
 Under the Verazano Bridge into New York
Harbour
 Manhattan
 Statue of Liberty
  Manhattan again
    Brooklyn Bridge
 UN building
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