CHAPTER NINETY FOUR: FOR THE LOVE OF LIBERTY IN NYNY

CHAPTER NINETY FOUR: FOR THE LOVE OF LIBERTY IN NYNY

We made it! Here we are docked at Liberty Landing with the Manhattan sky line on the horizon, just across the Hudson River. And Miss Liberty is a little bit south of us. She greeted us after we went under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge and were boarded by a Coast Guard contingent for a “routine safety inspection”. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Today was chock full of so many different experiences that it’s hard to slow down. My heart was pounding through much of the afternoon, first out of fear of lightning strikes, then out of sheer exhilaration at the sight of New York Harbor and Manhattan in the distance.

Let’s begin at the beginning – the Giant Manasquan Eddy which they call a river. We did not sleep well at Hoffman’s East, and when morning came – for the Admiral this was about 3:30 a.m., for me about 6 a.m. – we wanted to leave as soon as possible. But the weather forecast was for thunderstorms, with lightning, lasting until about 1 p.m. in the area where we were headed. The Admiral never travels when there is a threat of lightning. Slow Motion is very tall in the water, 19 feet, and an excellent target for lightning. This is especially true since Slow Motion is not as fast as the other boats that may get caught in a lightning storm, so that while their pilots are running at 20 knots or more, Slow Motion is chugging along at 8 knots. And suddenly, where there were many boats traveling in the same area, there is only one left to be struck by lightning – Slow Motion. Given the prediction that the thunderstorms would be out of our area by 1 p.m., we delayed our departure from the f word marina until 10 a.m.

Then, as we prepared to take off, there was no one at the dock to help us untie the various lines or help guide us out of the slip. I made a call to Hoffman’s West and was told that the dock hand “had to leave”, but she would send someone over immediately to help us leave. The Admiral undid most of the lines and we got the electric cord back in the boat. Then the manager, Mike, showed up with a great attitude. He asked how our stay had been, and we let him know that nothing had been good about it – from the lack of help on our arrival to the f word spewing guys on the boat next to us all morning. In between we told him that we were unable to leave the boat because of the high tide and that we had never been hooked up to the water source. Mike immediately told me that our next stay at Hoffman’s would be “comped” to make up for the lousy service. Generally, once I’ve been burned by a place, I do not ever intend to return. The Admiral and I had already said that we did never, ever want to tie up at Hoffman’s again. But here was Mike the Manager offering a free night of docking for the poor treatment we had received. When you are two pensioners on a fixed income, that’s something you can never turn down. Is there a night at Hoffman’s in our future? We won’t rule it out.

We navigated the choppy waters of the speed boat infested Manasquan River and arrived at a very calm Atlantic Ocean. So far so good. We traveled for several hours with waves less than one foot in height. And there was nothing extraordinary about the cruise. We noted the narrowness of the entry to Shark River Inlet, where a safe harbor named Belmar Marina can be found. The day before we had cruised by the 10 miles of uninhabited sandy white beaches on Long Beach Island, so we knew that New Jersey offers some spectacular views from the ocean. Today was no different. We saw the highest point along this part of the Atlantic Coast, the Navesink Highlands, which feature the “twin lights”, two lighthouses built in 1862 and dedicated by Honest Abe. They overlook the Shrewsbury River, Sandy Hook, Raritan Bay and the New York skyline. Yes, we were that close already. I had no idea that Sandy Hook, New Jersey and the area around it are directly connected to Manhattan by a commuter boat service called SeaStreak. We saw one of these “Streaks” plying the waters heading to Highlands, New Jersey, and it was moving right along.

By this time, as we reached Sandy Hook, it was past 1 p.m. and we were pretty confident that we had missed the thunderstorms. Not so fast, oh smug ones. At about one thirty, the skies started to shed some rain, and we heard rumblings in the distance. The Admiral saw some lightning over the land. Still, we thought, there is no lightning directly threatening us. We’ll push on. And considering that there were no realistic alternatives, we kept moving toward New York with an arrival time of 3 pm. We had to tough out one and ½ hours of rain, which we have done several times before – no big deal. I looked at the rear of Slow Motion and saw some very ominous clouds, but they were behind us – yippee! We were tempting Mother Nature, but so far we had avoided thunderstorms and lightning by following the weather reports closely and planning our cruise times accordingly. Today Mother did the unpredictable – she circled around and brought those thunder and lightning storms right over our heads. And at about 1:45 p.m. the lightning struck in the area, then rolling thunder clapped some seconds later. There were boats in the area because there is a reef with lots of fish to be caught. As soon as the lightning struck, these boats scattered fast – so fast that they were gone by 2 p.m. and we were the only boat in sight. The Admiral slowed down to let the storm get ahead of us. We had a brief respite with no thunder and lightning, and no rain either. Our collective heartbeats returned to almost normal, and I got some towels to mop up all the water that had come into the flying bridge. Okay, this was better. We survived the lightning – hurray! But wait – the thunder was not over, as it rumbled over top again. And then its buddy, lightning, lit the sky again. Not fair! This time we were all alone and the only high point in the area for lightning to hit with a bolt. What’s that coming up? It’s a 65 foot tower! Yay! Surely the lightning would hit that easy target before coming after our relatively short Slow Motion. Again, the collective heartbeat rose, as I snapped on my life jacket and prepared for a direct hit. It did not come. After a few minutes we started entering somewhat brighter skies, and we heard no more thunder the rest of the way. Gott sei dank.

With the lightning scare gone, we were able to concentrate on the silhouette of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, the gateway to New York Harbor. And beyond the bridge we saw Manhattan brooding in some thick mist. To our right was Coney Island. Coney Island? Oh my God, we were really going to bring Slow Motion to New York. The storm had pushed back our arrival time to 3:15 p.m., but we were still going to tie up in front of the New York sky line today, well before dark. As we passed under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, I remarked that we were the only boat in all of New York Harbor that day. Then we saw a gang of jet skiers come out of the mist and head south to the bridge – what is the attraction? Still, we were the only boat. Ahem – what is that spiffy looking boat coming toward our starboard side? It’s the Coast Guard in one of its cool new patrol boats. We had seen a prototype in Swansboro, North Carolina. We were happy to see that they were “on the job” even in the storm. They passed behind us and headed southwest. That was the last we saw of them – until, until – this is when our collective heartbeat went bonkers, beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings – the Coast Guard boat had pulled up behind us and started flashing a lot of blue lights. Can this really be happening? In our maiden voyage to New York Harbor, we’re being pulled over by the cops? Yes, it really happened, boys and girls. You haven’t really had the full New York Harbor experience if you haven’t been boarded by at least two Coast Guard officers asking for your papers and searching your home on the water. These guys were pleasant enough, telling us repeatedly that the stop was “for your own good”, you know, to “make sure you’re safe”. Big Brother to the max. Where were they when we were dodging lightning bolts? They could have taken some of the heat off us then. But no – they waited until we thought we were heading to untroubled waters to stop us dead in the water for twenty minutes.

Once the Coast Guard officers were satisfied that we were in full compliance with all of their safety regulations and they found no contraband on board (thank you, Admiral for urging me to donate all the syringes to the Calvert Hospital), they handed me a yellow carbon of their report, which they called the “golden pass” (good to prevent another Coast Guard warrantless search for at least a week). Then they climbed back on to their superboat, gave me a friendly parting wave, and went off to fight crime – I hope. The Admiral was not happy about the intrusion, despite the politeness and friendliness of the invaders. Me? As a former prosecutor, I have an affinity toward law enforcement and I was not bothered by the raid. I would prefer that they spend their time going after drug hauling boaters and terrorists, but I have to admit that, at the speed we cruise, we’re a much easier mark. Especially since we were the only boat out in the stormy weather in New York Harbor at 2:30 p.m. today. I asked the marauders if I could take photos, and they let me snap away, so I have memorialized their “take down” of Slow Motion. This sounds very dramatic, given the vocabulary I am using, but everyone was very courteous and the two Coast Guard officers left Slow Motion just as they had found her. Not a drawer was opened. Oh sure, they checked the engine room and the bilge, and they peeked into all the other rooms, but we were not ransacked by any means. And we have our Golden Pass. Oh, the first thing that Officer Romero said when their boat approached was: “Have you ever been boarded by the Coast Guard?” I said “No”. He laughed and said, “Well, you’re about to experience your first boarding!” He sounded very thrilled by the fact that this was totally new to us, probably because he realized even then that this training exercise was going to be a piece of cake for them – and very safe. As the Admiral always says, “Our tax dollars at work.”

Now we were looking at 4 p.m. for arrival at Liberty Landing Marina. I was looking over at the still misty Manhattan skyline, when suddenly the Admiral shouted “Look!” And he pointed westward. There she was! The Statue of Liberty, with her torch in hand. Magnificent! At this point there was some other water traffic – water taxies, ferries, sightseeing boats, all converging on the turf of the Statue of Liberty. How could you not be drawn to her? I can only imagine an immigrant arriving in New York Harbor and looking at her inviting visage. I was thrilled down to my tippy toes to stare at her. I think I took 20 photos of her. The Admiral saw that some blue sky had appeared behind her, and told me to take some more pics with her surrounded by the blue sky, rather than the storm clouds that had first enshrouded her. I can’t tell you how many times I had formed a mental picture of us coming into New York Harbor on Slow Motion and passing by the Statue of Liberty. It was the highlight of my dreams. I was scared, because I also imagined that we would be dwarfed by huge container ships and that there would be garbage everywhere. But the bad stuff did not materialize. Yes, there were logs and big pieces of wood floating in the harbor, but no garbage, and there was not one container ship to run us aground. There was only Miss Liberty – and Slow Motion. Together at last. How sweet the moment. What a way to end a day filled with thunder and lightning and law and order!  Miss Liberty took us, two more tired, poor, homeless, and yearning to breathe free visitors, into her bosom, and then she guided us safely with her torch to our Liberty Landing slip. What a welcome to New York City!