CHAPTER NINETY SIX: MORE HUDSON RIVER STORIES

CHAPTER NINETY SIX: MORE HUDSON RIVER STORIES

On Sunday, we left Half Moon Bay marina, picking up our lines carefully to avoid the new duck droppings, which turned out to be an impossible task. Foie gras anyone? Just kidding. Force feeding a duck (or goose) to get a food delicacy is finally getting the negative attention it deserves. Will it stop? In California, yes, but how can you stop a nation of 50 million Frenchmen and women from stuffing their faces with foie gras? But I digress – how unusual. Suffice it to say that our lines did not fare well on the poopy decks of Half Moon Bay. The owl decoys appear to be working on the docks where they are strategically placed, but the outer docks where we were had no such scarecrows. Except for this excrement, Half Moon Bay has a lot to be proud of. They should open the swimming pool to transients, if at all possible. But the site is lovely with large greenswards leading down to the water’s edge and trees lining the road into the marina. Enterprise is less than ½ mile away. And Shoprite is less than a mile away. The price of gas is higher than anywhere else other than California -- $4 per gallon. And even with the greatest discount that Steve could give us, we paid $150 per night. Yes, that’s a hefty monthly bill, if every marina charged that amount. Fortunately, we were headed to a marina with a rate of $9 per foot per week, so we can get seven days there for the price of three days at Half Moon Bay. I still can’t get over the name – Half Moon Bay in California is on the Pacific Coast just 1 and ½ miles north of where I live, and they boast the largest pumpkins in the world. Lyn and Mike gave me one of robust home grown squashes, but there were no 1000 pound pumpkins in sight at Half Moon Bay East.

The Admiral carefully eased us out of our slip and backed into some very shallow water, before heading out of the marina into the current of the Hudson River. At that time of the morning, 8 a.m., the current was against us. But there was little wind, and we were able to maintain a speed of 7 knots with the engines running at 1400-1500. This being Sunday, we expected a lot more boat traffic. Not at 8 a.m., and not at 9 a.m. either. It wasn’t until around 11 or 12 that the weekend boaters roused themselves from their Saturday night revelries to run past Slow Motion heading north and south, after we had already passed West Point and Cold Spring and Storm King on our way to Kingston, New York. Even then, there were not a lot of boaters – the Loopers must heading towards the Mississippi by now. Earlier this summer for about 3 weeks in June most of the Erie Canal was closed to all boats, as spring floods had taken their toll on many of the locks. We kept reading about boats stacking up in Waterford, New York, and at that time we felt fortunate to be starting our journey north so late. And now, as we are poised to enter the Erie Canal next week, we just read about THE tugboat convention that is taking over the Waterford Visitor Center docks from September 4 until September 9. Oy veh! I called and learned that no transients can tie up on these docks for those dates. It would be great to see so many tugboats in one spot and to board the boats and learn more about them, but when all you want to do is spend a night in Waterford before climbing the Waterford Stairs (first four locks on the Erie Canal), the tugboats become a nuisance, not even an attractive one. There is no good alternative to the tying up at the Waterford docks for boats entering the Erie Canal – unless we find one. And we’re looking as I write this blog.

However, back to our Sunday cruise. The Hudson River Valley presents photo opportunities at every turn. There are mansions on both sides of the river and green mountains and granite gray rock faces look down upon you, as you cruise by. Every so often you reach a major institution – the United States Military Academy is one. It stretches for what seems like a half mile along the Hudson. I had visited West Point years ago while in college, in the wintertime, and it looked very bleak at that time. Now in August it juts out from a hillside that is still covered with fifty shades of green, and if it weren’t for the fortifications atop the massive walls, it would look inviting, sort of. This is the narrowest part of the Hudson. Revolutionary War soldiers tried to stop the forward motion of British ships up the Hudson by putting a giant chain across the river. Did it work? I mean, if our soldiers can put a giant chain in place across the river, can’t their soldiers just take down the chain? And they did. They even found a use for it in their harbor far away in Gibraltar (the sun never sets…) – no information on whether it actually worked against invaders there. On the roof of one of the field houses in big enough letters for any plane or helicopter to see are the words “SINK NAVY” on one side and “BEAT AIR FORCE” on the other side. West Point apparently has new adversaries since the Revolutionary War.

Not all that we see along the Hudson River is photogenic or worthy of a painting by the Hudson River School of artists, known for their lush landscapes of this valley. Shortly after we left Half Moon Bay and headed toward West Point, we saw two ominous “stacks” that are dead giveaways for a nuclear power plant. Sure enough, we were looking at IPEC. Indian Point Energy Center, now owned by Entergy. This 40 year old environmentally risky power station is located just south of Peekskill New York. Good luck, citizens of Peekskill. There was not a sign anywhere to inform the boaters passing by who is responsible for this operation. Are the owners a bit sensitive after the disaster at the Fukushima plant last year? There used to be three “units” in operation at IPEC, but now there are “only” two. Unit 2 was commissioned August 1, 1974 and its license expires September 28, 2103. Unit 3 was commissioned August 30, 1976 and its license expires December 12, 2015. Governor Cuomo of New York opposes the extension of these licenses, citing the hazardous nature of an aging nuclear power plant. The Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) is all for granting each reactor a twenty (20) year extension. These reactors generate more than 2000 megawatts of electrical power, which is about 30 percent of the electricity used in NYC and Westchester County. Who do you think is going to win this skirmish? The Governor who is saying “Shut them down!”? Or the NRC, backed by the millions of NYC and Westchester dwellers who need the electricity this plant provides?

Can you imagine what the equipment of a 40 year old nuclear reactor looks like today? According to the New York Times, IPEC “has encountered a string of accidents and mishaps since its beginnings, and has appeared on the federal list of the nation’s worst nuclear power plants.” Republican Governor Pataki commissioned a report in 2003 that concluded that the “current radiological response system and capabilities are not adequate to…protect the people from an unacceptable dose of radiation in the event of a release from Indian Point.” Sound familiar? On the other hand, in 2009 IPEC was awarded its 5^th top safety rating for annual operations by none other than the federal regulators, who are in bed with the nuclear energy industry (did I say that?). The Hudson Valley Journal News reported that the plant has shown “substantial improvement in its safety culture” in recent years. Where there is room for “substantial improvement”, there is reason to be concerned, very concerned, about what still needs “improvement.”

Here’s a short list of things that have gone wrong/ are still going wrong with IPEC:

1)    IPEC stores used fuel rods in two spent fuel pools on site. These fuel pools, which contain more nuclear material than both reactors, have no containment structure, according to the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation. IPEC has been moving to “dry casking”, a much safer way of storing spent fuel, but the two not so safe spent fuel pools are still used and will continue to be used, as spent fuel must be stored there at least 5 years before being transferred to dry casks. And according to the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation, the spent fuel pools are “exposed and unsecured” and therefore “vulnerable to attack.” Thought you might want to know that, citizens of Peekskill and surrounding towns.

2)    In 2008 earthquake researchers discovered an active seismic zone that goes within a mile of IPEC, which intersects with the Ramapo Fault. The fault line extends to nine miles below the surface. But don’t worry, IPEC was built to withstand an earthquake of 6.1 on the Richter Scale. So don’t be shaking the earth in that area more than 6.1, Mother Nature.

3)    In November, 2010, an explosion occurred in the main transformer for IPEC, Unit 2, spilling oil into the Hudson River. The owner agreed to pay a penalty of $1.2 million for the transformer explosion. And what happened to the river and its living beings?

4)    Also in 2010 an estimated 600,000 gallons of “mildly” radioactive steam was intentionally vented to the atmosphere after an automatic shutdown of Unit 2. After the intentional vent, one of the vent valves was unintentionally left open for two days. But don’t worry, the levels of tritium in the steam were within the allowable safety limits defined by the NRC. Erin Brockovich, help!

5)    In 2007 a transformer at Unit 3 caught fire, and the NRC increased inspections because the plant had experienced many unplanned shutdowns. There has been a history of transformer problems, according to the New York Times.

6)    In 2005 Entergy workers discovered a “small leak” in a spent fuel pool, and water containing tritium and strontium 90 was leaking through a crack in the pool building to the Hudson River. The fuel rods were safely covered despite the leak. The New York Times reported finding radioactive nickel-63 and strontium in groundwater at the site.

7)    In 2000 a small radioactive leak from a steam generator tube forced the plant to close for 11 months. Wonder how long a medium sized leak would have closed the plant? Wonder how that steam generator tube is doing 13 years later?

Okay, it’s time for some lighter fare. So here is an upbeat narrative about the rest of our cruising Sunday, August 25:

It’s only a hop, skip and a jump from West Point on the west side of the Hudson River to Poughkeepsie on the east side. We focused our binoculars on that town to find Vassar College. I had googled some of the prominent buildings and we were looking for the cathedral-like church on campus. There was a huge academic campus right along the Hudson in Poughkeepsie. A big white tent was pitched in the center of the buildings, and the Admiral could see moving in action by parents and students. We were convinced this was Vassar, but then we saw an “M” on the boathouse, and I noticed some serious sports facilities. I thought at first: “How progressive! Vassar has taken Title 9 to the max, with a basketball arena, football field – football field? So I went back to googling academic institutions in Poughkeepsie. Looks like the “M” stands for Marist, which is known to have a fine basketball program. We never saw a Vassar building.

By the time we had reached Poughkeepsie the current was with us, and we were easily cruising at 8 knots. The Admiral saw some deer on a hillside, who were enjoying the sunny, breezy day by gawking at us and grazing. No porpoises, alas, to race with Slow Motion. I really miss those playful mammals. And no pelicans either. This is the land of ducks and geese – and sea gulls heading back to NYC.

Bridges – there are really great suspension bridges, each of which has its own history going back at least a century – crossing the Hudson between Half Moon Bay at Croton on Hudson and Kingsport. There’s the Bear Mountain Bridge, a beauty, the world’s largest suspension bridge when it was completed in 1924. It’s part of the Appalachian trail too. Just north of where this bridge is situated, our dear soldiers tried to use the chain to stop British warships from passing. I didn’t mention it, but not only did the British take the chain, but they continued up the Hudson and burned the town of Kingston to the ground. After the Bear Mountain Suspension Bridge, we cruised under the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge, a serviceable structure. And north of that we sailed under the Mid-Hudson Suspension Bridge at Poughkeepsie, another oldie but goodie, built in 1930. See what kind of public works can be completed during a Depression to give people jobs and improve our infrastructure? Hint, hint.

Castles and lighthouses: There is an island called either Pollepel or Bannerman’s, which we passed after Storm King Mountain. Frank Bannerman built a medieval castle on this wooded isle. You can still see it today, but it’s a burned out structure. The State of New York got the island in 1967 and in 1969, the castle burned. Why? I don’t know. It’s still under investigation. A cold case about a hot fire. About twenty miles north of Bannerman’s Island, we saw a lighthouse which looks like a multi-roomed school house. It was sitting on a solid rock/concrete base in the middle of the river, and a little dinghy was tied up next to it. That would be a cool place to explore on Halloween or any other dark and stormy night. As we approached our destination at Kingsport, we were greeted at the end of Rondout Creek (pronounced “crick”, according to a long-time resident) by a mini-mansion with a lighthouse tower affixed to the front of it, sitting on a flat green piece of land at the mouth of the crick. An American flag proudly waved in the breeze and welcomed us to Kingston.

No sooner than we had turned into the crick did we see the Hudson River Maritime Museum. And – this is really cool – even before we cruised past the Museum, a large sloop with many sails (not in use) and about twenty people milling around on the deck motored past us. I noticed that the dinghy attached to the stern read “Clearwater”, then noticed that the sloop itself had the name “Clearwater” printed on the stern. How cool is that! We came within 10 to 15 feet of Pete Seeger’s historic Hudson River craft, The Clearwater. Don’t tell me you have never heard of this vessel. Okay, if you grew up west of the Mississippi, maybe you have a weak excuse for this gap in knowledge. But wherever you live, if you have an interest in keeping our waters clean and/or cleaning up the pollution in our rivers and lakes, you must know about the Hudson River Sloop Clearwater, which was established by Seeger and others in 1966. This organization has done amazing work to clean up the pollution in the Hudson River and its tributaries. Don McLean (American Pie) was one of its first crew members. To this day the Clearwater is used to conduct environmental education programs for school groups, as it sails up and down the Hudson River. And yesterday, the Admiral and I had our brush with fame, as we cruised past this 106 foot long sailboat. Environmental activism is only part of Pete Seeger’s amazing life. Take the time if you have it to read more about him, and next time you hear mention of the Almanac Singers (Pete Seeger, Millard Lampell, Cisco Houston, Butch and Bess Lomax Hawes, Lee Hays, Woody Guthrie), hum a little bit of Songs for John Doe or Talking Union under your breath. Oh, I suppose you can sing “If I Had a Hammer” too, if you know that better. If you have watched any PBS at all in your life, you know Pete Seeger. And you are one of the lucky ones.

Just when we thought it didn’t get any better than passing the Clearwater, the Admiral pulled up to the Rondout Yacht Basin, which was full of weekend boaters. He had been talking with the dock master about where to tie up, and he was told he could just tie up temporarily to the outer dock to look over the situation before tying up permanently. The “situation” was a space on the inside face dock, at the end of a long line of slips on both sides, filled with boats of various sizes. The space was where one dock met another dock at right angles, and the Admiral was going to have ease Slow Motion down the narrow lane between the slips, then make a turn on a dime to back into the space along the inside of the face dock. By the time we had made it half way down the water path past the slips, all eyes were transfixed on the Admiral and on Slow Motion. It looked like we were attempting the impossible, taking a very large vessel into a very small space with no margin for error. The Admiral did not flinch, as he rounded the corner of the slips and started backing toward right angle of the two docks. The folks on the docks and on their boats had already stopped what they were doing, and by this point they were just holding their breath and praying for us. The Admiral continued the backing motion until Slow Motion’s stern was within a few feet of the docks, and her bow was clear of all the boats in the slips. I threw the stern line to the dock master, and in quick order ran up the starboard side of the boat throwing or handing the spring lines and the bow line to other volunteer dock hands who had materialized. This docking was perfect! As we secured the lines, one woman walked by and said: “I have never seen such a work of art in my life. Your boat handling was amazing.!” The woman who worked at the marina met us at the office and called the Admiral’s docking “masterful”.  Aw, shucks, said the self-effacing Admiral, as he sort of blushed and beamed at the same time.  

We’re staying at Rondout Yacht Basin until Labor Day. Then who knows? In the meantime, we’re going to explore the Hudson River Valley by land. And you will have a front row seat to our adventures. Be kind to your waterways, wherever you live, and you may some day be able to fish, boat, and swim in them again without fear of bacterial infection or worse.