CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED (PART 2): WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED (PART 2): WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN

With gravity and with the Erie Locks, what goes up must eventually come down, hopefully in a slow, gentle way – not like a kite crashing into the sand or a pelican dive bombing headfirst into the water. We kept our date with dawn at the Schenectady Downhome Yacht Club, and we motored away toward Lock E-7 shortly after 6 a.m. The Admiral had already warned me that we were not going to be able to use the vertical cables on our descent. They were not going to be within my reach, as they started below the level line, and when we entered each lock, Slow Motion was considerably above that line. This meant we were left with the dreaded slimy lines hanging vertically from the top of the lock to the bottom dregs more than 30 feet below. And who knew what lurked at the ends of those lines? A recent headline reported that, while in one of the Champlain Canal locks, a trawler damaged its propeller on a refrigerator that had been lying around on the bottom of the lock. Who’s to say there isn’t some antediluvian living creature in the primordial slime below? Something like a “Lock” Ness monster – only not as sweet looking as the depictions of Nessie. See, I would grab the slimy line and hold on for dear life until Slow Motion neared the bottom of the Lock chamber. Then as I neared the end of my line, literally and figuratively, something with some very sharp teeth, maybe even breathing fire, would rise up as I tugged on the line – and it’s not just the propeller that would get damaged. It’s ME that would get entirely gobbled up.

These are just a few of the thoughts I entertained as we approached Lock E-7. That’s the lock with Anthony, the most accommodating Lock Master, who was true to his word and had arrived at the Lock before 7, so that we could pass through – OR NOT – when he opened the gates at 7 a.m. I know I should have asked Anthony about what was lying on the bottom of E-7, but I didn’t want to sound paranoid, especially since Anthony seemed to have a good opinion of the Admiral and me, based on our solid performance rising in the lock just the day before. I looked longingly at the vertical cables as we entered, knowing I could snag one from the stern. But that’s not where you need to be to snag the cable – you need to be mid-ship. I was assigned to the stern by the Admiral to grab a slimy line to pull the stern of Slow Motion close to the wall. Then the Admiral was going to hop down from the flying bridge and run to the bow to grab a line near the bow of Slo Mo. This procedure actually worked like a charm in E-7. I had no trouble getting my stern line, if by no trouble you mean, when I grabbed the line, Slow Motion’s pull nearly yanked my shoulder out of its socket. Needless to say, I was wearing my Ace Hardware gloves with the rough textured palms (as recommended by Cindy P), so that the slime line would not just slip out of my hands. As I approached the end of the line, I knew I was about to find out what lay at the bottom of E-7. But no, the line ended right at the water line. Nothing grabbed on to it from beneath. The Admiral said the magic words: “Let go!” And I released that line faster than you can say “hot potato” – a lot faster. Slow Motion lurched forward from the wall, and with a merry wave to Tony, we were on our way to the 5 locks of the Waterford Flight.

Before we got to E-6, there was this little thing called “Guard Gate 2” which totally blocked our way. The Erie Canal folks provide a number to call the Gate master beforehand. We must have called that number four times between us, and there was no answer. The Admiral tried to hail the master on Channel 13 on the radio – still no answer. It was already 8 a.m., the time when the locks on the Flight opened for business. So where was the Gate master? The Admiral called Lock E-6 – we had a phone number for every lock. Someone answered, and guess who it was? It was the Guard Gate 2 guy, who was hanging out at Lock 6. He said he had heard some radio calls, but they were broken up and he couldn’t make them out. Normally our radio has a good range, but we had to take the antenna down to get under the low bridges, so apparently we couldn’t even reach a mile. Anyway, the Gate master apologized and said he would be right up to open the huge iron gate that keeps debris from floating into the locks – supposedly – maybe refrigerators are exempt. He drove up in a few minutes, the Guard Gate rose up, and we were on our way to the murky depths of Lock E-6.

Did I mention that we were the only boat heading west in the locks at that time of the morning? We were all alone. No boat was heading east in the locks either. It must have been a lot of fun for the lock masters to show up for work on Sunday just to let Slow Motion run down the same locks we had just run up the day before. Wheee! Well, at least Tony was very cheerful, the Lock E-6 guy not so much. Still, he was darned nice to rush up to the gate to open it for us, then to rush back to E-6 to let us into the chamber. He told us that the red light was on, which means “Stay out of the chamber!” But he said to come on in anyway, because his green light wasn’t working. Good to know. At the last minute his light turned from red to green, and we entered Lock E-6. You’ve read it all before – maneuvering Slow Motion close to The Wall, grabbing the slimy lines and holding on while “falling” 33.25 feet to the bottom of the chamber, releasing the lines before being pulled out of the boat, and being disgorged from the chamber. Routine stuff, right? Wait until Lock E-5.

Just as I was getting a little, okay, complacent about the rigors of going through the locks, I met with near disaster in Lock E-5. Yes, I grabbed the slimy line, and the Admiral grabbed his slimy line at the bow. We both held on for the ride to the bottom. By this time, I had sucked in more diesel engine fumes than I had ever ingested before. Maybe that’s my excuse, if I need one. I was loopy on the engine fumes. At any rate, we got to the end of the line, and as I released the line and removed my right hand glove, the line took on a life of its own, grabbing and ensnaring the portside stern fender in a death grip. This was not going to end well. The line was going to have to give – not likely after all these years of battling big boats. Or the fender and at least the cleat it was attached to were going to be broken away from Slow Motion. I sprang to action, grabbing the line with my bare hand – germs galore! – and yanked it with all my strength to disentangle it from the fender. I finally – after a second or two which seemed like an hour – freed the line up from the fender, but too late realized that it was ripping my right ring finger raw. I saved my mother’s diamond ring and somewhat belatedly let go of the slime line. Meanwhile, the Admiral had released his line without incident and asked if we were clear on the stern. “All clear” I yelled, trying to sound normal. Then I ran up the steps on to the sundeck and down the steps into the salon, headed straight for the galley sink, and smothered my right hand and ring finger in soap that is supposed to destroy bacteria. It was then that I noticed blood coming from three slits on my ring finger. OMG – I kept washing and washing, more soap, more soap. And then I applied a paper towel to the finger to try to stop the blood. Within seconds I was back at my station, as we were heading to Lock E-4. I was way too embarrassed to report my injury immediately to the Admiral. And there wasn’t any time. I just kept thinking of the article about the guy who nearly lost his thumb when polluted water from the Caloosahatchee River got into a cut made by a fish hook. I love my ring finger, my whole right hand in fact, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing it.

The Locks wait for no man or woman. We pushed on through Locks E-4, E-3 and E-2. Whenever I had a chance, usually as we were pulling away from the way and leaving the chamber, I ran back to the sink and used more anti-bacterial soap and applied a new tourniquet. The bleeding stopped in the next lock. I carefully put on my gloves to keep the paper towel in place. I switched to clean new gloves for the next lock. I did everything I could think of to prevent infection. I also used my left hand and arm a lot more than the right hand to manage the slime line in the last three locks. That’s why my left shoulder is still achy, I guess. By this time the locks had lost just a little bit of their luster for me. The locks give and the locks take away. You can never, never let your guard down. The worst thing I had imagined had not happened – there was no Lock Monster sighting. However, when that E-5 slime line finally gave up its death grip on the rear fender, it sent all kinds of small rocks, mud and dirty water flying all over the place. The swim board and the transom were covered with debris. I also cleaned that stuff up as quickly as possible to prevent it from sticking indelibly to Slow Motion for the rest of time.

Once we were safely down the Waterford Flight, I mentioned my mishap to the Admiral and showed him the finger, so to speak. We game planned on how to avoid such a re-occurrence in the Troy Federal Lock, which was coming up in a few miles. And fortunately, with the rise and fall of only 14 feet in that lock, I was able to use the vertical cable, so there was no repeat performance of the wildly dancing line. At the end of the morning of the Seven Locks, I had a healthy respect for both the locks and for the boaters that go through them on a regular basis. They don’t all have 38,000 pound boats, but still, they have to be prepared for anything to happen, and they usually have to share the chamber with a lot of other boats. We were alone in all the Erie Canal locks on the way down to Waterford. We followed a very small boat into the Troy Federal Lock. It looked like the boater was going to tie up as soon as he got inside the gate, leaving us no room to enter. We shouted at him to please move forward. And the Lock master shouted at us that the boater was deaf. Great. The boater ended up going forward because he was having a hard time getting to one of the vertical cables. So it all worked out. But a deaf boater? What about radio transmissions that are essential to safe boating? What about contacting lock masters and bridge masters to get them to open their locks and bridges? “It must be very challenging,” she understated.

I hope that you have felt some of the same thrills and chills that I felt as the Admiral and I traveled through the locks on the Erie Canal. It was an experience of a lifetime. The history of the building of the original locks and the history of the building of the replacement locks are both fascinating. If you ever plan to visit the Erie Canal, by car or boat, I recommend reading up on this history before and during your visit. This is a Wonder of the Western World, a testament to what can be done to advance commerce and stimulate the economy. Imagine the pride of the engineers, who were able to write on their resumes that they helped design and build the Erie Canal locks. Sure, the suspension bridges in this country are amazing feats of engineering. But these locks – in their sheer number, their size, their construction, their constant use – are mind-boggling. That’s why it was so unusual when most of them were closed for several weeks this past June because of damage from severe flooding and hundreds of boaters were lined up in Waterford and marinas farther south waiting to go through. This was big news – the locks are NEVER closed, well, hardly ever, and never for three weeks. Somehow the work crews got them all working again, and they were in fine shape at the end of August, 2013. Thank you, Erie Canal maintenance crews. You made our trip up the Hudson River and up and down Locks E-2 through E-7 as memorable as the SF Giants winning 2 World Championships in three years. And you helped me forget for a few days the Giants’ 2013 record. For that I am eternally grateful. One final note: There is no Lock E-1, in case you were wondering. The first lock in the Waterford Flight is E-2.