Day 8 - a diversion to Syracuse
Another misty morning soon cleared and we soaked up the scenery as we travelled along
Our plan for the day was to take a short detour off the Erie Canal proper by crossing Lake Onandaga to the waterway terminal at Syracuse, New York. This was to be a trip down Memory Lane, as it was one of the places where we moored Prydwen on our first pass through (way back in 2003) as I commuted to work.
It was pretty much as we remembered it. The floating dock was still in place and seemed to be in the same condition, complete with water and power hookups that are not yet fully connected.
The channel all the way in from the lake to the dock, however, had silted in dramatically. There is no way Prydwen, with her six-foot draft, would have made it past the first railroad bridge.
Our carefully measured highest point above the water is eleven-and-a-half feet to the tip of the wind turbine blades (canal minimum is fifteen feet). Despite the bridge clearance for the first (and lowest) bridge being listed on the chart as seventeen feet, had the turbine's blades been twice as long, we would have snapped one right off. All the bridges were like this, as if the person transposing the surveyor's notes to the nautical chart couldn't read the handwriting and thought the twos were all sevens and the threes were all eights. Thankfully we had our mast stored quite low.
Further along, as we inched along at idle, Begonia ran aground. Well, it was more of a slow mush in soft mud. We got free, and by picking our way verrrry slowly with the bottom two or three centimeters of the keels sliding through the stuff, we finally made it all of the way to the dock and tied up for the night.
Syracuse Inner Harbor
Maryanne, who was the one left behind while I went off to work in 2003, remembered the place as feeling not perfectly safe back then. With that in mind, we decided to go downtown for an early dinner, so we could both be aboard when it started getting dark.
We were heading for the Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue, for what I can't believe was my first time. During almost twenty years of coming to Syracuse for overnight layovers at work, most of the crews only wanted to go to the Dinosaur for dinner. I was a bit more vegetarian back then and was also always going off on long marathon training runs while they ate, so I never made it there. My apologies to all of them. The Dinosaur really does do some gooood barbecue!
Dinosaur BBQ - described as a restaurant, blues venue, and biker bar chain (mostly in NY state)
Syracuse has a network of creek trails to avoid having to cross too many roads to get to the center
Our walk back to Begonia along the paths and parks along the river was very pleasant, apart from us both being painfully stuffed to the gills with barbecue. It's good to try to walk a meal like that off afterwards.
Back at home, we were definitely a curiosity for a lot of passersby. Boats hardly ever make it in here, especially ones that look like us, so we certainly stood out on their evening stroll. We got asked by more than one person questions like, "What kinda pontoon boat is that?" and, "Can you sleep in there?"
While we fielded their questions, their toddlers were all fond of waving and saying hi far more times than was strictly necessary, as toddlers do. When the light began to fade, the walkers thinned out until it was just us left. The place no longer seemed like a hangout for any seedy types as it had in 2003. Once we realized we were both nodding off at our computers, we called it a day and went to bed.
Day 9 - ending right after lock E-24 (in Baldwinsville)
At about 3:30am, Maryanne woke me to tell me she heard a noise that sounded like someone was aboard the boat. Like I usually do, I woke from a deep sleep to tell her she was imagining things because I hadn't heard it. She was serious enough, though, that she even got out of bed, which is one of her least favorite things to do in the dead of night, to turn on our ridiculously bright cockpit light. By then, I was onboard with her version of reality and followed her up the stairs to the galley. The little hatch above our stove is just the right size and height for me to be able to pop my head out like a groundhog and get a 270° view of the side of the boat near the dock. There was no evidence of anyone around and we were still in the same spot. The lights must've scared whoever it was away. We went back to bed.
Once it was apparent by the light coming through our overhead hatch that it was properly morning, I began the laborious process of vetting applicants for the committee that would conduct a study to see if it would be feasible for me to start the early stages of constructing a plan to get out of bed.
All the proper permits were received and verified. I propped myself up on one elbow and then decided to start over again with a complete audit of the whole process. An independent panel verified that the original order had been correct, I re-propped myself on the elbow again and then began the next sixteen steps required to extract me from our cozy berth and place myself in a normal, standing position. While I was doing this, Begonia made a rather uncouth burp.
On my third step up the stairs to our cabin, I looked out the aft-facing cockpit window to a view that made no sense at all. The dock was gone. All I could see out of the window was reeds. I did the groundhog trick through the gally hatch. There, I discovered we were nowhere near the dock. We were drifting sideways down the river towards the first of the bridges on the channel to Lake Onandaga.
About two seconds of complete bafflement and disorientation passed and then I realized…someone had untied all our lines and the current was taking us to the lake.
Well, that woke us in a hurry. Our plan of taking the next three hours to slowly get ready to leave were out the window. We were going now.
By the time I got both engines started, we had run aground. That bought us some time before hitting the bridge. Idle forward easily overcame the drag of the mud and we were soon in the channel with 0.2 meters to spare. Maryanne surveyed the deck and found two of our three dock lines dragging behind us. The third was probably still tied to the dock. She asked if I wanted to go back to get it, but there was no way I was going to risk the trip to get a worn-out three-year-old dock line. My exact thoughts may have been something like, "Screw Syracuse and everyone in it. We are outta here!"
After a startling wakeup, we were soon back into the tranquility of the Erie Canal
A couple hours later, we fetched up in the charming little town of Baldwinsville. Since it was so near and since we got such an early start, we arrived with most of a day to spare. Rather than lounge around, we suddenly decided to do a long list of chores instead. At the end of the day, both engines had new oil, the used portion was then taken to a proper site for disposal. All the laundry was clean, the boat was clean, we were clean, the water tank was full, the fridge was full. We were exhausted but there were no jobs hanging over our heads. That felt pretty good.
It wasn't all work in Baldwinsville, we did treat ourselves to another meal out
Day 10 - ending right after E-25 (at Mays Point)
After Baldwinsville, we had a relatively long day to the upstream side of Lock 25 at Mays Point, New York. This was another remote, rural stop.
The "town" at Mays Point is little more than a small cluster of houses by the lock. Nearby is also the Montezuma Wildlife Refuge, which is primarily wetland bird habitat. We took a long walk along a too-busy highway to several of the refuge's bird spotting platforms. We didn't see too much of interest, but it was nice to stretch our legs a bit. We also had a nice conversation with Harry, the seventy-five-year-old lockkeeper. He was kind enough to point out Lock 25's unofficial mascot, a beautiful Blue Heron who has taken it upon himself to clear the lock of any trapped fish therein.
Lock tender Harry proudly showed us his pristinely kept 100+year old lock equipment and the local Blue Herrons that regularly visit
We ventured out to explore a little of Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge
Day 11 - ending right after lock E-26 (Clyde)
We had another short day to the pretty little town of Clyde, New York, just above Lock 26. As it was Memorial Day, there were plenty of parades and ceremonies going on, with lots of guns and flag-waving, and almost all the businesses were closed. We had a long walk along the canal trail, which was nice enough, but it was hard to escape the irony of what was clearly a pro-fascist population paying homage to townsfolk who had given their lives to stop fascism in World War II. We were at the same time charmed by Clyde's tidiness as disturbed by its backwardness. Had we not been white and obviously European, we would have felt very threatened. As it was, we did get the stink-eye more often than usual. We didn't know if it was because we were outsiders generally or if someone had spotted our Oregon home port on our stern. At any rate, one night was enough and we were happy to move along.
Journey to Clyde
Memorial Day was being well honored and observed
Delights of Erie Canalway Trail
Day 12 - ending after lock E-28B (Newark)
The trip from Clyde to Newark, New York took us only a couple hours and took us through three locks (27, 28A & 28B), raising us another 44 feet above sea level. Apart from a couple of fishos in tinnies, we saw no other boats.
Maryanne is a huge fan of wind vanes (in addition to mail boxes) so was really happy to see this one at lock E-28A(Lyons), painted with the same blue and yellow livery as the NY state canal work boats
We also spotted this Green Heron before we arrived at Newark
Newark is a real gem on the canal, with clean, well-maintained facilities that even includes FREE laundry machines (donations welcomed). We only had three days' worth, but it was good to keep on top of it.
What we found surprising was that the place wasn't packed with other nautical freeloaders. We assume it must be because they have a really bad crime problem or that their Wastewater Management District releases all of the town's effluent into the canal in the wee hours. Neither turned out to be the case.
We found everyone to be really friendly. The canal path was full of adorable birds singing away, the people all said hello, the grocery store was convenient, and they even had an ice cream store as the nearest business establishment to Begonia's back step. That was great, but Maryanne made the mistake of ordering a sundae, expecting a cup filled with soft-serve and chocolate sauce. What she got was a cookie the size of a salad plate, upon which sat a lump of hard ice cream the size of a brick. That was covered with so much fudge and nuts that I suspect they were just trying to empty the containers before closing for the day. It was delicious (I helped because I care), but they really do need to put "serves four to six" on the menu under that item.
Enjoying another walk along the old canal path we spotted this Gray Catbird, and beautiful Eastern Canadian Swallowtail butterfly
We also got lucky enough to find a quiz night at a pub just over the bridge. Unlike our last few showings, Maryanne and I managed to tie for first place after the last round. Woo, hoo! We lost the tie breaker question by not knowing 'Think outside the bun' was an old Taco Bell advertising slogan. That was fine. The first prize was a bucket of beers and after all that ice cream, we weren't sure that was what we really needed.
Day 13 - ending at Mecedon
We had two more locks today as the only vessel, with short a pause at the first. Lock 29 had divers in the water inspecting the equipment, so we got a chance to stretch our legs as they finished up. Once they emerged with a thumbs-up, we went through and then on the short trip to Lock 30 at Macedon (which I can't help but pronounce in my head with a t in it).
Another day in the canal
The wall beyond one of the Canal Corporation's barges was so rough and crumbly that we briefly considered aborting and skipping the stop. We persisted though, tying all of our mooring lines to a bollard in the grass beyond the wall.
One of the reasons I hadn't wanted to carry on was that there wasn't too much to do here. We (mostly Maryanne) really needed to make some repairs to our mainsail cover before we try to put it back on. It's looking like 1930s hobo's trousers with all of its rips and thin patches and won't make it through the rest of the summer if we don't patch the patches and add some more for good measure. I knew that almost anything, anything, would seem like better entertainment than fixing it, so our relative isolation was a good thing in that respect.
The job was no fun, especially in the heat, but she got it done (I helped) in less time than we thought. She was even able to redo all thirty-six feet of zipper.
Some repairs before we could venture out for our regular walk
We love getting to see so much wildlife on our walks
With a little bit of time left for an evening stroll, we discovered that poor, underappreciated Lock 30 is a little oasis. Adjacent to the lock, just next to where we were moored is a really well-kept butterfly trail, with lots of information boards, little touches of art and plenty of benches on which to sit and reflect. Further on, along the canal towpath on the opposite bank, we spotted a doe and fawn picking through the woods. The little fawn must have only been a few days old because it was the size of a terrier and looks like it would have had to get up on its hind legs to nurse.
Speaking of babies, we have been seeing a lot of Canada Geese with their goslings on our trip westward. When we left Waterford, most were little palm-sized puffballs of down. Now, the little ones are only a couple of inches shorter than their parents, with just the occasional remnant tuft of down sticking out to reveal their juvenile status. They learn to fly by copying what their parents do and we've seen a few families take hundred-meter flights to escape us as we come at them down the canal. These will then start to build until they are ready for the Big Migration. The parents don't leave them there, but stay with them for another whole year to show them the way and then how to get back. It has been interesting to be able to observe such an important time in their lives, when everything is new and there is so much to learn.
Canada Geese on our travels
Day 14 - ending at Fairport
A morning stroll before departing Macedon
From Macedon (mastodon), it was a mere seven miles of lock-free canal to Fairport. Fairport had been our favorite stop on our 2003 trip and we were both hoping it hadn't lost its luster.
Unlike Newark, Fairport was already pretty full when we arrived. Dockage isn't free there, like at Newark, but is pretty close at $14/night. The dockmaster met us to "help" us with our lines and micromanage our docking process for us. I think he was really under a mandate to get the fee out of us before we disappeared.
With that minor annoyance out of the way, we had a really nice time in Fairport. It was as charming as ever including having the best-equipped, most well-loved public library we have ever seen outside of New York City itself.
We soon arrived in Fairport and were pleased to check out and see the Library is still delivering so much to the local community
We explored shops and had long walks along the canal through snowstorms of big, fluffy cottonwood seeds. Along the way, we found a gelato place, the Royal Café, that has the best gelato and sorbet I have had since Milazzo in Sicily. It may even be better. THAT place was the best I had ever had, so that is REALLY saying something. To be sure, I tried several standard flavors for a direct comparison, then moved on to flavors more in line with my usual favorites, just to be sure. They were all sublime and amazing. After my second visit, I told the creator he was a GENIUS! He let out a big grin when I returned for my third visit of the day and may have snuck in half a scoop more than I had technically ordered.
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