After weeks of trying to get a smaller sail (I did) and rain/storm protection from my very competent upholsterer- very competent but unpredictable, by me, as to time for work completed, I dreamed up a system of tarps and grommets, overlaid with the superb mosquito netting he had made. Although not yet put to the downpour test, the rig gave me enough confidence to put to sea, in the meantime having enjoyed several days of sailing, tennis, visits from Rachel et al, Kate et al, minus Oliver. Pittsburgh obligations and Canal dreams converged to allow for another launching. We left Canandaigua at about 8:30 am, went to the launch ramp at Albion, just west of the end of my kayak day, and found ourselves right opposite a large penitentiary complex which I thought was Attica; it was not, but apparently there is enough work for several such large institutions. This one had rolls of concertina wire surrounding it and stern warning signs. Three young men were lollygagging about, and began jumping in the water ( I had seen several families with young children here swimming when I came by in the kayak earlier in the trip). Whether one finds the murky water inviting may have to do with the alternative: school or prison, perhaps. The day was beautiful with a felicitous forecast. Jean was to return to Canandaigua (about 75 miles), unhitch the trailer and head for the ‘burgh. I got underway about 10:30 am, high ‘70s, no wind for a while. I managed to rig up a rear view mirror- amazing benefits, especially my sense of comfort. I didn’t realize how much I missed the ability to periodically check out the rear. Plus I put it to the test, being overtaken by some four boats throughout the six hours. When I’m pedaling, the whirr obscures the sound of overtaking boats, many of which are large sailboats with very quiet inboard engines. There were probably six westbound boats as well during that time, so I guess the west is continuing to be peopled as a result of the Canal, as Clinton (Dewitt) intended.
The wind picked up gradually, always from the east, so that I figure it more than compensated for the one mph current. I made about three and a half mph overall, discounting a total of an hour or more waiting for lift bridges. I can leave my mast up but not the sail under raised lift bridges- the vertical part of the lateen rig extends about three feet above the mast. All moot today because there was no usable wind. I was quite stiff after six hours of pedaling- such stiffness subsides after a couple of hours.
In general, the landscape between Albion and Brockport was like that of the previous sections, but even a few days seem to have brought fall into play. There is russet in tree tops, goldrod is appearing along with cornflower, and that large-leafed thick growing shrub with spiky white flowers. Lots of phragmites, and much purple loosestrife, galloping invasives. No cattails.
Avifauna: one cedar waxwing got my attention at the launch, with Jean giving me strong non-verbal signals to get going- then little green heron, three great blue herons, one of which I filmed catching and swallowing a sizable fish- hope the camcorder shows it. One turkey vulture, blue jays, many pigeons, house sparrows, two Canada geese, scattered mallards along the Canal, dozens at the Brockport marina areas, where they are often fed. Both Holly and Brockport have handsomely treated public marinas. State support is much in evidence. I arrived in Brockport about 4:30 pm where the liftbridge operator gave me some good advice as to over-nighting. The Canal wall is beautifully designed and maintained. There is a staffed visitors center, ample rest room-showers for boaters, who get a card that opens these rooms 24/7. I inquired about putting a tent on the public space next to the docking walls, and after checking with her supervisor, the woman staffing the office said fine. When I asked about security, she seemed quite surprised: the police patrol the area regularly, and the fire/emt station fronts the dock. Because my craft is only 12 feet long and is human powered I am not charger the Canal fees that are based on length, and by the day, two days, weeks or season. So I make a donation at the public marina where I stay. In addition to the mooring and restroom/showers, these public marinas also provide water and electricity for the boats. Again, there were lots of knowledgeable and helpful boaters, interested in the Escapade, and my escapade.
When I started off at Albion the lift bridge operator came down and told me the Canal was closed to the east! A boat had sunk and spilled gas and oil and there was a cleanup effort underway. When he realized I make about three to four miles an hour, he said things would probably be open by the time I got to the next lift bridge, and indeed it was. Another bit of excitement occurred as I was getting a root beer float out Main Street n Brockport: a succession of more than twenty emergency vehicles went roaring past, headed south away from town. People “in the know” and locals with emt friends, for example, used cell phones and were told it was a bad accident and a brush fire. I later learned there had been no accident and the brush fire had been set to control overgrowth and was not a problem. I wonder what they’d do if there was a real emergency. So I’m in my tent at 10:00 pm, enjoying the cool temperature, hoping for good weather with a west wind tomorrow. I expect more boat traffic as well as bike and jogger traffic as I approach Rochester, even though school has started, summer is about over, and as of Thursday, two days away, the bridges, locks and other services will reduce their operating hours, but still well within my capability and interest. So fine by me.
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