Ten and a Half Bridges

Saturday, November 3

We had wonderful reasons to be away from Gerty these past few weeks, but we missed her dearly. And to think we have returned this weekend to bring her to her winter resting place. So I write with the sentimental tone of a woman who has just returned to the comforts of her sweet floating home, knowing all the while I will be torn away from these comforts again before the sun sets over the palisades tomorrow.

Nine bridges we traveled under today. Not to mention a sky-tram, two helicopters, and several jets. And that’s just the New York Harbor sky traffic! In truth, the water traffic in the harbor was minimal with just ferries, tourist boats, police boats, cruise ships and motor yachts. Of course, the two sailing vessels traveling south on the Hudson did not escape our attention. In Michael’s opinion they were most definitely going “the right way,” south for winter, thereby suggesting that we were indeed going the wrong way! That said, we love to see New York City by boat. It’s exciting- as if you were standing on the bedrock, but somehow incredibly different and special because rather than getting that overwhelmingly energized feeling that comes from the traffic, the people and the noise, you get a sense of peace that I think comes from the incredible reality of the view in the absence of those things. It’s monstrous, yet beautiful. Incredibly complex, but existing in unison. For us, it’s memory, after memory, after memory.

Sunday, November 4
We anchored in Peirmont Harbor last night, directly across the Hudson River from Irvington, New York, our land lubbing residence of over twenty years.  At low tide we were in under 4 feet of water, and it was calm and quiet – advantages of a centerboard.  This morning we passed under bridge number ten, or should I say 10 ½ as part of the mid section of the Tappen-Zee Bridge remains, while the new Mario Cuomo Bridge spans the widest part of the Hudson.

Ironically, the most thoughtful part of the trip is not the Freedom Tower, or the Statue of Liberty or the Brooklyn Bridge this time. It is when we motor between Ossining, NY and Hook Mountain State Park. Sing Sing maximum security prison is to our east and the Palisades cliffs in all their sun drenched, fall foliage glory are to our west. It feels like they can almost touch it- freedom, but they can’t. This is the third prison we have passed by in 24 hours.  We are so privileged to have our freedom.

When we get to Peekskill it will be the start of winterizing mayhem. One thousand things on the to do list, with weather obstructing the schedule whenever it feels like it. Sails down, water system, change oil, exhaust system, outboard, wash!, fuel tank . . . time to look up the excel spread sheet. Thank goodness there is a fabulous bakery near the boat yard!