The shortest voyages can be the most gratifying. Today in a December thaw I rowed my 8 ft. plastic dinghy out .48 nm, past Big Tom (a rock) to R2 - the nun buoy that marks the entrance to Eastchester Bay. Outbound is a lot farther than inbound. Rowing into the sea and the wind, aiming for the bridge, and pulled south on the ebb, you earn the leisurely slide back to the dock, feathering the oars, cutting across the sea, spinning and pulling to put the stern into the swells when a big one rolls in. When you get to the dock that .48 nm looks far again and you're glad the pump can still put out enough to carry you there on the strength of your arms and your back.
Then check North River 2 at Barron's. Boat yards are at their best in winter - full of boats. Looking at the keels, hulls, and spars you can tell how they sail. The functional shapes and primary colors look their best against the gray sky.
And then Brian Dempsey's American Ale House. Vikings 20, Giants 19. Season not over.
1 comment:
George:
I've taken my kayak out twice in the winter winds so far. Paddling into the wind and waves on the way out, and gracefully riding them back in never fails to set my soul at ease. No matter how much I may think I am crazy to try this before I put the kayak in the water, the experience of a winter's paddle never fails send me the bliss of messing about in boats.
Not much I've found that is better for the soul.
Thanks for writing.
Smooth rowing,
Jesse
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