Blog Post #12 The Champlain Canal and into the Lake July 7 - July  15

It took some time to get back our “boat brains” which goes to show it can be dangerous to leave the boat. We set off up the Hudson from Albany, but before we got to Troy I remembered that I had bike covers sent to the marina while we were away, and had forgotten to pick them up from the office. So lunch in Troy and a cab ride back to Albany, so much for my economy in selecting covers. Of course we should have gotten covers long ago when we were in big waves and salt water, but now the hope is we will slow the deterioration and minimize the amount of grease that gets on our clothes, the deck and our lines. 

Interesting bridge at Troy

The next event was the Federal Lock just above Troy, the first of 12 in the Champlain Canal, 64 miles connecting the Hudson with Lake Champlain, of great strategic and economic import in days of yore. This was our first lock since the Dismal Swamp, where the locks were short and sweet. We were out of practice, not quite mentally prepared (see boat brain), and just as we were getting fenders and lines ready, not paying sufficient attention to the weather, a thundershower came through with heavy rain and sudden wind, but it was too late to turn back. Unlike any lock we have been in so far this one didn’t have lines hanging from the sides to grab on to, we needed to put our lines around a pole or ladder to hold the boat to the wall while the lock filled. While I was fumbling with this at the bow the stern swung out and Joel couldn’t reach the wall. With the wind pushing us away we never did get tied but went slowly down the lock sideways while the water rose. The lock keeper, undoubtedly  out of sorts because he had to come out in the middle of a rain storm, was not helpful. Fortunately we were the only ones in the lock. After that we got our act together and we were ready for anything.

By the time we got to Lock One (first of the NY Canal Corporation) it was getting late in the afternoon and it was iffy if we would make Lock Two before closing. The Lock Master very kindly offered to drive up to Lock Two and get us through so we could get the the Mechanicville City Dock for the night, and so we did. 

Approaching Lock #1

Sweet & helpful Lock Master, as most are

Nice facilities, and free!

All of the little towns along the canal are struggling, but they have put a lot of effort into creating attractive waterfronts and welcoming boaters.  Mechanicville has free docking, electricity, water and showers! We shared the space with some lively Canadians from Quebec and Ontario and had a fine time.

The next night’s stop was at the Schuylerville Marina, where the owners of 30 years were as pleasant as can be. Schuylerville has put its development hopes into a growing arts community. Being close to Saratoga and its Revolutionary War battlefield helps too. 

Remnants from busier canal days

Quiet & cozy Schuylerville Marina

Close, but enough

Our next challenge was the fixed bridge between Locks 3 & 4, with a only 17’ clearance. For this we were prepared, having measured the boat height innumerable times, but still not a 100% certain since the water level fluctuates. The lock master cautioned us, he could tell would be close, but slowly slowly we went, with me on top giving moment to moment updates, and in the end we had over a foot to spare.

On to Whitehall, just above the last lock, and its free dock with all the amenities, even free wifi thanks to the library. 

We were the only boat at the Whitehall free dock the first night

The volunteer fire department was training new recruits next to the boat

Here we were visited by Ginger Davis, our Maine neighbor and sailing companion in Croatia. She stopped by on her return trip from the family farm in upstate NY, bearing peaches and preserves, and doughnuts.

So great Ginger could stop by for a visit

In the evening we met up with fellow loopers, Robert & Linda aboard Errant. Actually they finished the loop a few months ago, but since they were a bit rushed through Canada last year, they decided to head north again and visit Quebec City. Linda was intrigued by the various reports about Whitehall being especially depressed economically. Being of a particularly entrepreneurial turn of mind, and looking for a retirement “project” she was asking the question “what would it take to turn this town around?” We ended up accompanying them as they toured a run down, downtown, water view massive building, with a realtor, and having many conversations with various locals about the town’s prospects. Nat, the owner of a very nice restaurant, Historic Grounds, gave us the keys to his car so we could toodle about. Stay tuned to Whitehall's turn around, (although I don’t think Robert was as enthusiastic ).

Robert, a Whitehall realtor, and Linda, on the lookout for opportunity

After two nights of Whitehall’s hospitality, including the hospital chicken barbecue on the water front, we were ready to move on. The canal, lovely though it be, was beginning to feel slightly claustrophobic, and Lake Champlain beckoned.

Lake Champlain, at the narrow south end

Snow Goose, from Fort Ticonderoga

The Fort from our kayak below

Fort Ti sunset from the boat

The Kings Garden, at the Fort. Not part of the original fort, but of the people who restored it.

Fife & drum soldiers at the fort

Lovely dinghy ride up La Chute River to the Town of Ticonderoga. La Chute connects Lake George and Lake Champlain. Lake George connects with the Hudson, so before the canal this was a very important piece of real estate, see French & Indian War, Revolutionary War etc.

We had two quiet nights at anchor under the guns of Fort Ticondaroga  and then up to Fort Henry Marina, the NY side, where we spent one day cleaning the hull from the tannins south of the Chesapeake, and Joel’s numerous other projects. 

The Crown Point Bridge

 We have had hot sunny weather and light winds from the south since leaving Whitehall, but early this morning we woke up with a wind shift from the north and much racket from nearby halyards and wave action. Today is bright, cool and sunny, and winds steady at about 24 mph, so a great day to enjoy the view and get caught up on the blog.

Too windy to travel today, but what a view!

Cheers to all,
Sarah & Joel

Blog Post #11 June 25 - July 6. Off the boat, and family, new and old.

From the Albany Yacht Club we set off by automobile to East Aurora NY, my hometown, and our first night off the boat in 13 weeks. The East Aurora crew has family get togethers several times a year, but for some reason the organizing women seemed particularly insistent that I come to this one, and the timing worked well with our location, so we came.

This was Joel’s first time to the ancestral home, something about which he has taken a great deal of grief about for years, so Mary McCutcheon (niece but one year older ) greeted him with a banner, an EA tee shirt and hat, and several books about the area’s illustrious past and present.

Downtown EA, near the famous Vidlers 5&10, Joel's kind of store. Note Vidlers suspenders, one of numerous pairs

Joel having a moment with Elbert Hubbard, Hubbard, EA's most famous son. Philosopher and founder of the Roycroft community which published books journals and Mission furniture among other things. He described himself as an anarchist and a socialist, although for some reason we missed that part of his resume as kids. The community was a haven for radicals, free thinkers, reformers, and suffragists. He and his wife went down on the Lusitania in1915. 

L. Sister Jane, Sara Buckley, mother of the indomitable Eloise. R. Mary McCutcheon, me, Joel

 at The Bakery

Eloise, at Vidlers. where a dime gets you a horse ride. Eloise took to the horse with joy and amazement until a moment of almost terror, at which point she would leap into Grandma Rita's arms, for 5 seconds, and then back to the horse for another 10 seconds. Repeat sequence for probably 30 cents worth. We all got our money's worth watching this one.

It was great to see and hang with various relatives over the weekend, but the reason for the urgency was revealed at the official gathering on Sunday.

Three nieces and my childhood companions, Rita, Barb, Mary & me

Just as the eating was getting underway, a passel of people I had never seen before came in, and Barbara Carr (another one year older niece) took the stage to introduce us to heretofore unknown family. When Barbara was 16 she gave birth to a baby daughter, and here at last was her daughter,  and her daughters children, and their children! They had both tried to find each other for many years, and finally, just a few months ago, it happened. It was a total surprise to most of us in the room, and amazing, emotional moment.

Family!

Barbara and I were very close at the time she got pregnant, and yet she was forbidden to tell me what was going on. She suddenly went to live with her grandmother for the school year. Why I thought this was plausible at the time is a mystery. I would get letters, very bland ones, with a return address from Cape Cod where her grandmother lived. Shame, secrecy, and lies were all pervasive. The acute betrayal by adults  was compounded by their refusal to let me visit her when I finally discovered what was going on.  To my mother’s credit, she had wanted to tell me from the beginning, but the other adults prevailed upon her to lie, until circumstances compelled her tell the truth. Of course my trauma was nothing compared to what Barb went through.

So here is Diane, brought up in a nearby town with a great family of her own. Nice, nice people, it all felt very relaxed and right. Not all reunion stories are happy, but this one was. I am so glad I was there, thank you Mary for the nudges!

Suddenly four generations!

Back to Maine for dentists, doctors, and taxes… and gardens. one week, in and out. It was lovely see friends and family dinners with  Cathie and Mike and Margy and Steve, and Nat and Julie. All well with the house, yard, gardens and cat, thank you Bria, Ernie, and Debs’!

Dinner with Nat & Julie at the River Side Farm Market & Cafe. We can't seem to leave the water.

Pot luck Fourth of July at Nat & Julies, where we shared what the Declaration of Independence meant to us.

And here is another beautiful river...the Kennebec, at Hallowell, Maine.