October 19, 2004
After rushing around in 40 degree temperatures – loading
treasures, blocking and covering the car, doing laundry, cleaning up some of
the messes we’d made at the Date’s Estate, we said goodbye to Curd, the cat,
and shoved off. We waved to Curd, the
one being who will truly miss us, breakfasts together, companionship, laps of
cold milk from Jerry’s bowl, deburring, and scratching behind the ears. He stood on the dock in the drizzle and
watched us, perplexed, as we headed out onto the Oneida River.
It’s a relief in many ways, even though there will be things
we should have done and things we’ve probably forgotten, a relief to actually
be leaving, not to just prepare and talk about leaving. Finally on our way!
The 5 to 10 knot wind on Oneida Lake turned out to be 15 to
20 from the east. A choppy ride
indeed. We weren’t planning on any
bashing about until NY Harbor at least but there we were, slam, bang. The 20 bags of cereal in the bow may be
powder by the time we get to Sylvan Beach!
It was a most enjoyable ride for me, Karen. Jerry was in charge of the helm so I went
below. What should I do on this four
hour trip? Cook something to warm up the
cabin! I peeled 3 humungous northern spy
apples we had picked Monday, sliced them up, and put them on the stove to cook
for applesauce. Next, preparations for
chicken stew. What better way to warm up
the cabin and simmer smells for the captain to dream of as we bounce across the
lake. Fiddles, small metal arms that
clamp to the rail around the stove, prevent the pots and pans from sliding
around while enroute. I haven’t had time
to enjoy cooking a meal for quite some time.
Most of our meals this fall have been thrown together after working on
boat projects all day. By the time we
got to Sylvan Beach everything was ready for a heart-warming meal. Cooking so preoccupied my thoughts that I
forgot all about our dilemma in the middle of the lake. The weight of the mast and dinghy (filled
with water from waves) was too much for the radar arch on the starboard
side. One of the posts popped a hole
into the hull on deck as it came down with a wave. Our mast and everything on the radar arch
(dinghy, anchor, solar panels, outboards, radar, barbecue grill, and wind
generator) could have gone over as well.
Jerry jerry rigged support to ease the load on the leg that made the
hole through the fiberglass. Jerry will be able to grind the fiberglass and
patch the hole with resin and cloth (which we have on board) after we get to
Kingston, NY to put up the mast. For the
time being, and the peaceful canal ride that lay ahead of us, the boat will be
fine.
10/20/04
Today is Wednesday and we sleep in until 7:30. It is a luxury to go to bed so early (8:30 to
read) and sleep in so late. It is also a
necessity as the temperature is about 40 and we have no heater. Before we can leave I have a bill I have to
mail. Every morning for the last 2
months or more we’ve started our day with a 3 mile walk or a bike ride. It felt good to get up this morning and walk
to the post office.
Another gray day today as we motor east on the Erie
Canal. Jerry and I take turns at the
helm which consists of sitting in the companionway on the tent stool (which I
broke later in the day), staring ahead through the plastic window of the
dodger, and pushing the buttons for the autopilot to stay in the middle of the
canal. The one who is not steering can
sit in the cabin under the blanket or with a burner turned on to warm up. By sitting in the companionway to steer you
can keep some of your legs near the warmth coming up from the cabin.
The traffic on the canal today consisted of two trawlers
headed west. There were a number of
workboats on the canal dredging, tugs with barges moving around mud, and areas
where cranes were taking the mud loads off the barges and piling them on
shore.
Sitting on the tent stool staring out the front for hours
gives lots of time to look at trees, water, and herons. I spent a lot of time studying the colors of
the leaves on the trees, the shapes of the trees, the ways the trees grow, the
shapes of the branches. Have you ever
noticed how different trees are? Some
trunks and branches are straight, straight up, straight out, straight. Others start straight at the bottom, split in
two, and wind up to the sky. And then
others curve up a bit, branches go here and there twisting and winding with no
apparent symmetry. I like to look at
trees.
So, here we are in Jacksonburg. You know – Jacksonburg, Lock 18 on the Erie
Canal. We tied up to the lock wall, had
dinner, listened to a dirt bike riding around the grounds, and the occasional
train not too far off. After having
baked potatoes for dinner the cabin is warm and toasty, the lights low as Jerry
reads out loud from Moby-Dick.
I’m glad my mattress isn’t made of corn cobs and broken crockery.
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