2010 Columbus Day Paddle

Paddling south across Jamaica Bay

There is no better way for a kayaker to observe and celebrate the anniversary of Christopher Columbus’s arrival in the Americas then by exploring a nearby body of water. So yesterday, on the legal Columbus Day holiday, several kayakers from the Sebago Canoe Club  in Brooklyn, NY, paddled across Jamaica Bay and back again.

Seven other paddlers (Vicki, Lynn, Tony, Anthony, Walter, Dottie, and John W.) and I set off from the Sebago Dock around 11:30 AM, headed for Far Rockaway. No Kings or Queens commissioned our journey, nor was there great fanfare as we departed. The sky was blue, however, the water calm, the wind minimal, and the air temperature in the mid 70’s. Columbus himself could not have asked for a better day to be on the water.

As we were paddling out of Paerdegat Basin into Jamaica Bay, we met up with Chris, on his way back from a solo paddle. He decided to join us as we paddled into the Bay and crossed the channel to Canarsie Pol. Crossing the channel, Tony paddled point and John W. paddled sweep. By the time we reached the Pol, however, Lynn was having second thoughts about her ability to complete the paddle, and decided to return to the clubhouse, accompanied by Chris. Meanwhile, Gary and Rochell, paddling in a tandem, joined us.

Beaching on Ruffle Bar

An hour after we started paddling, with one paddler having pulled out and two other paddlers in the tandem having joined us, we beached on Ruffle Bar to stretch our legs, take some group photos, undertake a little below the high tide line exploring, and coordinate our crossing of the next channel.

After leaving Ruffle Bar, Tony ably led across the channel to Far Rockaway and John W. brought up the rear, even though we were tightly grouped for the channel crossing. John W. and I tied up at the dock at the Warf around 1:30 PM while the other six boats, their paddlers not wanting to have to climb up the high dock, decided to paddle to a nearby beach and walk to the restaurant.

At our destination, we discovered no silver or gold, but we did find good food. I enjoyed a fish taco, onion rings, water and a cold Corona with Lime. As we ate outside on the deck, we celebrated not only the good food but also good company and conversation as well as a beautiful view of the Manhattan skyline off in the distance to the north. Another one of our members, Rockaway Vivian, surprised us by walking up to our table. Even though she had not paddled to the restaurant, we let her sit at our table.


Group Shot on Ruffle Bar. Photo by Gary.

As we were preparing to leave, Gary grabbed the check and paid for our lunches with each of us leaving our own tip. An hour and a half after arriving at our destination and after having refueled, we returned to our kayaks and headed back to Sebago.

Rather than stopping on Ruffle Bar during our return trip we simply paused for a floating break, thinking that we might beach on Canarsie Pol later in the return trip. Before we reached the Pol, however, the Weather Alert feature of my VHF radio kicked in, alerting me to a severe storm warning. Even though the sky did not look threatening, we took the warning seriously and decided not to beach on Canarsie Pol but to rather take breaks on the water.

A little over five hours after departing, we arrived back at the dock. We returned with the same number of kayaks we started with, eight, but with nine paddlers rather than eight, and only seven of us having been among the original group. We brought back no spices or precious metals but many precious memories and a zest for life. We claimed no land for distant monarchs but once again claimed our right to paddle and enjoy the largest open expanse in all of New York’s five boroughs.



Enjoying lunch at The Wharf

After washing and stowing gear, we retired to one of the picnic tables on the Club grounds overlooking Pardegat Basin.  with wine, munchies, and frozen cake we celebrated a fine day on the water, as the sun slowly apprached the western horizon. I wish I could have stayed longer to enjoy the company but the bunp and grind or real life responsibiulities beckoned.

The paddle from Sebago to Far Rockaway, which included a beaching on Ruffle Bar, was a 4.8 mile paddle. The return trip, with no beaching, was a 4.7 mile paddle. According to my GPS, in spite of what seemed like a leisurely and laid back but steady paddle, we were at times paddling at a 3-4 mile pace. With little wind to contend with, our pace, in retrospect, makes sense, and also accounts for the fact that both legs took about the same time factoring in the one beaching.

Prepairing for the final channel crossing

This was my second Columbus Day Paddle. Last Year’s paddle was my first. While I was not originally going to be the trip leader for this year’s Columbus Day Paddle, when Phil, the original trip leader had to bow out because of work obligations, I volunteered to lead. While I have assisted on several other Sebago trips, this was the first trip for which I was the designated trip leader. I was glad to have along as Assistant Trip Leaders Tony and John W. and to be leading a trip of experienced and competent kayakers, all of whom, with the exception of Rochelle, I had paddled with before. I was also glad to be paddling one of my favorite club boats, the blue Necky Chatham 17. With hardly any wind and mild tides, however, I never once used its skeg.

During the paddle back, as I in the blue plastic Necky Chatham 17 club boat was paddling next to Anthony in his yellow fiberglass Necky Chatham 17, I asked him if he knew what two Chatham 17s do when they meet. He did not know that the answer was “They neck”.

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble.

Did you hear that "Macbeth" has been updated to reflect current political realities? An early scene features three witches standing around a boiling cauldron and chanting . . .

Double, double, toil and trouble.

Fire burn and caldron bubble.

We may be witches with hardly a care.

But we are not candidates in Delaware.

Stones For Bread: A critique of Contemporary Worship by A. Daniel Frankforter

I rarely read books recommended and loaned to me by friends. I already have too many unread books on my shelves, some of which I will probably never read in my lifetime. The more books I read that I do not own, the longer it will take me to read the books I do own.

Nevertheless, I recently read Stones For Bread: A critique of Contemporary Worship by A. Daniel Frankforter, even though it is not a recent publication, but nearly ten years old. A friend and colleague in ministry loaned me his copy and not only recommended that I read it, he urged me to read it.

The first couple of chapters were slow going. The more I read, however, the more I found the author articulating many of my own thoughts and feelings regarding Contemporary Worship. He said them much better than ever could, however. He also organized his thoughts better than I have been able to organize mine.

In one sense, Stones for Bread is a critique of “Contemporary Worship” in the sense of contemporary being an attempt to upgrade and update, or modernize, if you will, what some often criticize as stale, stodgy, stuck-in-the mud worship. In another sense, however, Stones for Bread offers a thoughtful critique of “Contemporary Worship” in the sense of contemporary being whatever passes for worship in the present day, much of which, in my opinion, is not theologically informed and poorly led.

I wish everyone who worships with the Church I serve as Designated Pastor and every leader of worship in the Presbytery of which I am a member would read and reflect on this book.

No Wonder we argue about Evolution and Creationism

Various secular and religious publications, both hard print and on line, have reported on the recent Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life US Religious Knowledge Survey. The survey’s findings do not surprise me.

As the survey’s executive summary notes: “Atheists and agnostics, Jews and Mormons are among the highest-scoring groups on a new survey of religious knowledge, outperforming evangelical Protestants, mainline Protestants and Catholics on questions about the core teachings, history and leading figures of major world religions.”

Many of my friends and colleagues who, like me are Ordained Ministers, decry the generally low level of Biblical literacy and  lack of religious and theological knowledge we encounter in the church, even the congregations we ourselves serve as Pastors. At times, I feel like most of what I preach about and teach about goes in one ear and out the other.

Maybe the low level of religious literacy in the US is not an isolated phenomenon. Maybe it is just one more indication of a general lack of general literacy and dumbing down of the American culture. For instance, according to The Condition of Education 2008, a report released by the U.S. Department of Education’s National Center for Education Statistics (NCES), U.S. students score below average in international comparisons of science literacy. 

A few years ago, I was teaching an undergraduate Introduction to Philosophy course. As an example of our tendency to use imprecise language, I used as an example Pink Floyd’s incorrect reference to “The Dark Side of the Moon”. There is no “dark side” but there is a far side, sometimes bathed in light, sometimes shrouded in darkness, but we can never see the far side because it is always facing away from the earth. During the discussion I learned that a few of the students thought that the phases of the moon were caused by the earth’s shadow. They did not understand the basic celestial relationships of the earth, moon and sun. Nor did they understand the difference between a lunar eclipse and the phases of the moon.

My point is, if high school educated Americans do not know the basic scientific principles that affect them every day, how can we expect them to have a basic knowledge of religion? How can we expect to debunk the bad science and theology of creationism when most Americans are both scientifically and religiously illiterate?

About the October 2010 Header Photo

Looking back, I do not know how this scene, featuring Seneca Rocks, WV, has not appeared at the top of my blog before now. Sure, I featured part of Seneca as the March 2010 Header Photo, but that part of Seneca, a formation known as the Gendarme, no longer exists.

I first climbed at Seneca in the fall of 1976 and climbed there rather steadily the next three and half years. I have climbed off and on at Seneca ever since, but not often enough or as often as I would like or would have liked.

Unlike West Virginia’s New River George or New York’s Gunks, Seneca offers a true summit, the south summit. Once a climber attains it, the only way down is to rappel. Comprised of the same rock as the Gunks, whereas the Gunks lie horizontal to its bedding plane, offering long horizontal cracks, Seneca lies perpendicular its bedding plane, offering long vertical cracks, some a hundred feet long.

Because Seneca lies perpendicular to its bedding plane and rises from the surrounding area like a knife blade, it offers two main climbing faces, the eastern face which gets the morning light and the western face, pictured here, which receives the afternoon and evening light. The depression in the center is the Gunsight notch, where the Gendarme used to stand.

NOLS NYC Alumni Gathering, and Reunion & Presentation

It is always good to get together with other Alumni of the National Outdoor Leadership School,  especially when it has been awhile since the last time we gathered. A week ago, NOLS Alumni met at the 79th Street Boat Basin Café  on Manhattan’s upper west side for some drinks and food.

Although I do not go there often, the Boat Basin Café is one of my favorite places to eat when the weather is nice. It offers open air dining overlooking the Hudson with numerous boats; especially sail boats, docked and moored not far away. It was at the dock not far away that last year my wife and I were able to board and tour Pete Seeger’s sloop, the Clearwater.

There were about a dozen to a dozen and a half NOLS Alumni at last week’s gathering. I knew about half of them and it was good to see people I knew and have hiked and kayaked with. I also met a few new folk, some who were newer to the Big Apple than I was. We drank, ate, and talked about plans for the fall, including an overnight, and a couple day hikes. We also talked up the NOLS New York Area Reunion & Presentation on Thursday, October 10, at the Patagonia Store in SoHo, 101 Wooster St.

Gint, Tobey and Lori (local alumni), organize our occasional Alumni gatherings at places like the Boat Basin Café, gatherings that attract anywhere from half a dozen to two dozen people. NOLS Staff in Lander organize The NOLS New York Area Reunion & Presentation and travel to New York City to be with us. It is a big event.

While the NOLS New York Area Reunion & Presentation is designed primarily for NOLS Alumni in the greater New York City area, anyone may attend. If you love the outdoors and want to learn more about the philosophy and course offerings of the National Outdoor Leadership School, send an email to ALUMNI@NOLS.EDU to RSVP and donate $10 or more at the door to help pay for drinks and appetizers.

Learning How To Sail

Some of Hudson River Community Sailing's fleet of J/24s

One of my most popular blog posts, and by popular I mean one that has received more hits than usual, was 45 Reasons To Learn How To Sail, posted over a year ago, on March 5, 2009. The post was picked up by a sailing blog, which linked to it, generating many hits.

I recently took my own words to heart. Last month my wife Vicki and I enrolled in a sailing course. To be more specific, we took the US Sailing  Basic Keelboat Course  offered by Hudson River Community Sailing.

I chose HRCS primarily because they offered classes that fit into our schedule, Monday and Wednesday evenings. Most sailing schools in the New York metro area offer classes only on the weekends, which made it impossible for us to attend. Only HRCS and one or two other schools offered weeknight classes and HRCS fit into our schedule better than the other schools. In addition, we could easily commute from our home in Queens to the HRCs dock and facility on the Hudson River in Manhattan via the subway.


Guy, Cairon and Vicki in the cockpit of a J/24 on the Hudson

HRCS trains on the J/24, maintaining a fleet of eight docked at Pier 66 on the Hudson River in Manhattan. All of HRCS' instructors are US Sailing certified.

While I still do not know the definitive difference between US Sailing and the American Sailing Association,  I liked the fact that US Sailing dates back to 1897 and is associated with the Olympics. ASA dates only as far back as 1983. It also seems that many non-profit community Sailing Programs associate with US Sailing while most Commercial Sailing Schools associate with ASA, and I liked the idea of learning with a non-profit community organization, like HRCS, rather than a commercial for-profit school.  However, if an ASA affiliated school had better fit our schedule, we probably would have taken classes there without a second thought.



Alex teaching about the parts of a sailboat

Vicki and I ended up in a class with two other students, Guy and Tom. Our first instructor, which we had for the first two of our six lessons, was a young Irish sailor named Cairon. His style was loose and laid back but he had us out on the Hudson and sailing our very first class. Unfortunately, Cairon had to return to Ireland before our course was over and so Alex was our Instructor for the third night of class. His style was pretty much by the book and a little more knowledge based while Cairon’s style was more experiential. Ripley instructed us for our last three lessons, including a night of high winds on the Hudson when the J/24 we were sailing was a bit overpowered. Ripley kept her cool, however, and encouraged and motivated us to meet the challenge, if not head on, then in a close reach. Her instructional style was somewhere between that of Cairon and Alex.

Ripley and Tom on a J/24

Some might think that having three different instructors, over six classes, would have been a problem, but it was not. I think all in the class would agree that having three different instructors gave us three slightly different perspectives and a broader exposure to sailing than if we had just one instructor. I would not have wanted to miss learning how to sail from any of the three.  All three were competant, experienced, helpful, and professional US Sailing Instructors.

The staff of HRCS was also quite willing to work with Vicki, who had to miss one of our Wednesday classes because of a previous engagement. They scheduled her to attend part of a Saturday afternoon class, with Ripley and two other students, when the class would be covering the same material Vicki missed. HRCS did so at no extra cost, enabling Vicki to meet the course requirments for both instructional time and content!

At the end of our sixth session, after having sailed in calm, moderate and high winds over three weeks, and after having our skills evaluated over those three weeks, the four of us in the class took the US Sailing Basic Keelboat Written Exam. Ripley graded our exams as soon as we finished and that night all four of us learned that we passed.

Vicki and I have since then been sailing a C&C 24 out of Brooklyn’s Mill Basin and into Jamaica Bay, having sailed at least three times after we were Basic Keel Boat Certified.

Introducing Oy Vey Rockaway



Rockaway Vivian cooking up some grub
at a Sebago Canoe Club Event



There are many things you can’t learn to do by watching–so I have entered the blogosphere!


With the above words, my friend, sometimes paddling companion, and fellow Sebago Canoe Club member Vivian Rattay Carter (a.k.a. Rockaway Vivian) started her blog, Oy Vey Rockaway, entering the blogosphere on August 31, 2010.

Vivian more than once has helped draw attention to my blog, complimented me on my writing, and enabled some of my photos to appear in local publications. Thanks, Viv.

Fair is fair. Since Viv has helped Summit to Shore gain exposure, I hereby return the favor and introduce her and her blog to my readers.

Visit Rockaway Vivian's blog, Oy Vey Rockaway, and see what she is cooking up there and serving to her readers.  If you like the service, leave a comment rather than a tip.

Barnegat Bay Paddle

Barnegat Lighthouse as seen from the southern end
of Island Beach State Park

Recently I was one of thirteen kayakers from the New York City metro area to paddle in New Jersey’s Barnegat Bay. Seven paddlers in seven boats were from the Sebago Canoe Club, based in Brooklyn, and six paddlers in four boats were from the Long Island City Community Boathouse, based in Queens.

The Long Island City paddlers were first to arrive at the Island Beach State Park kayak and canoe launch site and some of them were already in the water when my wife and I arrived. She and I had spent the night before with a friend on Long Beach Island and had driven an hour from the south to arrive at the site. The other five from Sebago, delayed due to 9/11 observance traffic and rerouting, arrived about an hour later than the 10:00 AM estimated arrival time.

The first challenge of our trip was route finding, which tested us before we ever unloaded our boats. I drove past the road to the launch site twice before we ventured down it on our third pass. With absolutely no signage and nothing but a dogleg hard right onto a sandy road on the bay side to suggest that the road was in fact the way to the put-in, we were not the only paddlers to miss the turn. After we unloaded our boats, I decided to drive back out to the road head to direct others yet to arrive to the put in.

We were all on the water by 11:20 AM. We paddled south out along the western side of the Sedge Islands to near the western end of Barnegat Inlet. With powerboats of all shapes and sizes zipping through the Barnegat Inlet channel as they were making their way between Barnegat Bay and the Atlantic Ocean, the channel crossing from north to south was one of the most challenging I have ever undertaken. Not only did we have to keep a careful watch out for boat traffic, we also had to contend with some large wakes from passing traffic. At one point it seemed a large power boat, running just north of the channel, was determined to run us down and passed by within only twenty or thirty yards.

Once across the channel we hugged the shoreline at High Bar until we beached on some sea grass, around 1:45 PM, within an easy walk of the Barnegat Light House. Walking toward the lighthouse, we made a beverage stop and those who did not bring lunch made a deli stop before we settled in at some picnic tables near the channel. After lunch, most of us walked to the lighthouse but not all who walked there climbed the 217 steps.

The view from the top outside platform of the Barnegat Light House was spectacular. The setting offered a commanding view of the southern end of Island Beach State Park, including where we had paddled from and what we hoped would be our return route. One could clearly the entire Barnegat Channel, including the rippling ebb current flowing out through it. The inhabited northern end of Long Beach Island offered a stark contrast to the uninhabited southern end of Island Beach State Park and one could see through the haze the outline of the larger casinos and hotels of Atlantic City, 50 miles to the south.


After a late lunch and playing tourist, we walked back to our kayaks, slipped into our cockpits, and around 3:50 PM started paddling back north. Crossing the channel from south to north was not nearly as hazardous as the earlier north to south crossing as it appeared most of the power boat traffic was now from Ocean to Bay rather than both ways, and not nearly as busy.

We discovered a breach in the Army Corps of Engineers Dike at the southern end of Island Beach that allowed us paddling access to to the Little Bay Trail without having to portage. As we paddled through the islands and salt marshes, however, some of us would occasionally encounter water so shallow that we had to exit our kayaks and drag them into deeper water until we could again paddle.

Beaching at the Area 15 launch Site
at the end of the day and trip

With the sun appearing ever closer to the western horizon, we debated whether to take out at the southern Area 21 access and hitch a ride to the cars at the northern access and to drive them south. We decided to keep paddling and easily made the northern access well before sunset, around 6:45 PM.

According to my GPS we paddled 9.5miles, 5 miles north to south and 4.5 miles south to north.  One of the other Sebago paddlers on the trip, Ed, also had a GPS and logged a little over 10 miles.  I can not explain the discrepency.  Ed posted his GPS data, including a map of our paddle, on the Garmin site.

This was my second Sebago trip involving a lighthouse, the first being over a year ago when we paddled from Long Island’s Captree State Park to Fire Island and walked to the Fire Island Light House after beaching. Because we arrived too late that day to climb to the top of the Fire Island Light House, the Barnegat Light House is the first lighthouse I climbed while on a Sebago trip, and only the second lighthouse I have ever climbed, the other being the Montauk lighthouse.

On this Barnegat Bay trip, I was able to paddle one of my favorite club boats, a blue Necky Chatham 17, only occasionally using the skeg. I was not disappointed with the boat.

After the Storm

Alert issued 9/16/10 at 5:40 PM The National Weather Service has issued a Tornado Warning until 6PM in Queens. Immediately go indoors and/or to the lowest floor of your building for shelter. Stay away from windows.

My home computer received the above e-mail soon after it was issued. The problem was I was not home. I was riding the “M” line into Manhattan. My smart phone acknowledged an incoming call from NotifyNYC that would have audibly delivered the same information, but the call was dropped before my phone received the message.

Later this afternoon, investigators from the National Weather Service will determine if a tornado, or more than one tornado, actually touched down in the city.

When I left the house yesterday a little after 5 PM to head into Manhattan to meet my wife for dinner, there was an overcast sky with a low cloud ceiling but no wind or rain. I knew the weather forecast included a chance of thunderstorms but I had no idea what was in store.

By the time I arrived at the elevated “M” platform on Forest Avenue, ¼ mile from home, I could hear thunder in the distance.

Between the Forest Avenue Station and the Williamsburg Bridge, I started seeing numerous cloud to ground lightning strikes over Manhattan and to the north. Then the rain started, heavy rain, wind-driven blowing sideways rain, accompanied by pea-sized hail. The sky had become so dark and the rain was blowing so hard that I could no longer see outside the windows of the subway car.

During the height of the storm my smart phone rang, identifying the call being from NotifyNYC, a free subscription based emergency broadcast service provided by the city. As I listened to the first few words of the message, I lost the connection. I could hear the phones of other passengers in the car starting to ring. Even though I lost the NotifyNYC call I still had connectivity, so I switched to my smart phone’s browser and connected to Weather Underground. A weather alert warning about possible tornadoes appeared at the top of the screen. But the storm was already winding down.

By the time we crossed the Williamsburg Bridge, the rain had almost stopped. Low clouds were covering the higher buildings in Upper Manhattan and climbing to the northwest.

When I exited the subway at Rockefeller Center, there was little indication that a torrential storm had passed. I arrived at the restaurant before my wife and when she arrived, she had no idea there had even been a storm. As we enjoyed our dinner, however, NY 1, the local news station, played on a nearby wall mounted flat screen. Images of storm damage started appearing on the screen. Although we could not hear the commentary, we could read the text and the text suggested the worst of the damage was in Staten Island and Queens.

After dinner we did a little shopping before heading home. We walked to the “M” but four “F” trains passed before an “M” arrived. After we passed a couple of stations, the conductor announced that the train would be stopping at West 4th street in Manhattan. As we transferred to the “J” we learned that the “M” service in Brooklyn and Queens had been suspended because of debris on the tracks. We rode the “J” to Myrtle-Broadway where we transferred to the Q-54 bus. We intended to transfer to the Q-55 at Myrtle-Wyckoff but after waiting several minutes decided to walk home. Several east bound out of service busses passed by as we were walking but by the time we arrived at our front door, not a single eastbound Q-55 had passed by. Deciding to walk rather than wait for the bus had been the right decision.

Once home, we made a quick survey of the house, inside and out, and determined that all was well.  This morning, however, I dsicovered that a four fot long branch with a trunk diameter of an inch or two fell from the tree in our back yard into our back yard, but that is nothing compared to what I saw as I walked the dog.

AsI was walking Myrrhlyn this morning, I was struck by the stark contrast between the number of downed trees and broken limbs on Fresh Pond Road, especially near the “M” station, compared to apparent lack of downed tree and scan fallen branches along the other three streets we walked. At one point along our walk, I had to detour out into the street because a large broken and fallen branch blocked the entire sidewalk (photos above right).

A little over three years ago, soon after we moved to New York, a tornado touched down in Brooklyn. Like many other New Yorkers, I am waiting to find out if last night one touched down in Queens.

Primary Election Day

It is primary Election Day in New York State. The polls opened at 6:00 AM. I voted around 10:30 AM and was the seventeenth person from in election district to vote in my party’s primary.

We have a new voting procedure in New York. We used to have the old style lever voting machine but had to abandon them in order to comply with federal law. At this election, I was given a small print paper ballot and instructed to fill in the circle next to the name of the person I wanted to vote for. Other than the small print, the ballot reminded me of a standardized test, the kind with multiple-choice answers and you are to fill in the circle or oval next to the answer you think is correct.

After I filled out my ballot I walked to a scanner where I placed the ballot in a tray that sucked the ballot into what I assume is a counting machine.

If today is a primary Election Day in your state, vote early and vote often. If you do not exercise your franchise then you should not complain when our elected officials make bad decisions, make no decisions, or misbehave.

The Last Paddle of Summer

I know the fall equinox does not occur until September 21, but for many people, Labor Day marks the official end of summer. In which case, the Sebago Canoe Club’s Labor Day Paddle to Gerritsen Creek and back was the last paddle of summer. What a paddle it was. Here is how Phil, the trip leader, announced it.

Mon, September 6, 12pm – 6pm

Where: Sebago Canoe Club Clubhouse Brooklyn, NY
Description: Gerritsen Beach Au Naturel. Intermediate level 2 minimum PLUS kayak rescue + safety.

The ability to do a wet exit, must do group rescues and boat handling skills plus you have paddled on minimum10 mile trips. Low tide is 12:45 and High Tide is 7:00pm so we will get an assist on the way back

The trip is appox 6 hours. Gerritsen Greek has been home both to a bayside community of fishermen and dumping grounds for old boats. Now cleaned up and revitalized, its scenery is stunning and includes a new interpretive nature center. But don’t worry, it’s not sanitized, you can still take in a few hulks of rusting wrecks while gazing at egrets.

Twenty of us assembled for the paddle and were on the water shortly after noon. The sky was blue with just a few billowy clouds. Both the air and the water were warm. There was a slight breeze. The tide was going out, which was in our favor. In other words, it was a nearly perfect day to paddle.

I paddled, for my first time, one of three demo Necky Elaho’s recently purchased by the club. The particular Elhao I paddled was red, poly roto-molded, with a skeg rather than a rudder. I did not use the skeg as the boat tended to track well. I like the feel of Necky’s and this boat could easily become my second favorite, close behind the Chatham.

According to my GPS, we paddled 13.8 miles round trip, but I and two other paddlers detoured into a salt marsh on the way home, which may have added an extra half-mile or so to my total paddle.

About a mile into the paddle one of our group decided the wind was too much and headed back to the dock, reducing our number to nineteen.

The most demanding part of our trip was just after the Marine Parkway Bridge when we turned north into Dead Horse Bay. The wind, tide and shallows combined to produce a nice chop. Since the day and the water were warm I paddled into the midst of the chop, eventfully paddled on my starboard when I should have braced on my port, and over I went. Roger offered to rescue me but we opted to head toward shallower water where I could stand in water a little higher than waste deep and with a nice hop up and across the deck of my boat and grabbing onto Roger’s boat I quickly reentered my cockpit and was paddling once again.

Once at Gerritsen we beached around 2:45 PM and enjoyed whatever lunch we brought or others shared. The water was so thick with power boaters and jet skiers that we opted not to paddle around the island in the middle of the Creek. To make matters worse, ATVs and dirt bikes were on the beach and one ATV even cut across our beaching site, coming within inches of some of us, as he crossed from one side of the beach to the other side.

About half an hour later, we headed back toward Sebago. While the wind and chop made re-crossing Dead Horse Bay a bit tricky, once we were out of the Bay we generally had the wind at our back and were paddling on a flood tide for a nice assist.

Because I chose to detour into a salt march on the way back, I was one of the last paddlers to reach the Sebago Dock, almost exactly at 6:00 P.M. By the time I reached the dock, my water was almost gone. My arm and shoulder muscles were sore and my legs were stiff. While this was not my longest paddle, nor was it the first time I had paddled to Gerritsen Beach and back, tt was only my second paddle to Gerristsen, my third longest paddle ever, and my longest paddle in over a year. At the end of the day and trip, however, I was humbled when one of our oldest members, 85 year Betty, Sebago PGD #1, paddled up to the dock. I hope to be paddling at her level of skill and competence thirty years from now.

While this Labor Day paddle was a great one, I experienced a little sadness as we were washing and stowing gear in the setting sun because I realized that Sebago’s summer paddling season had officially ended. While there will certainly be some fall paddles before dry suit conditions set in, there is something special about Summer paddles, with their warm air and water temperatures, and late evenings.

I have posted photos from the trip on my Picasa site.

Maybe I Will Raise My Copy of the Quran

Because I believe in free speech, I think the Rev. Terry Jones, pastor of Dove World Outreach Center in Gainesville, has the right to burn a few Qurans. After all, we Americans have the right to make fools of ourselves and show the world how ignorant and intolerant we can be.

I am wondering, however, how and where Terry Jones earned the title “Reverend”. My “Reverend” title was bestowed upon me after four years of college, three years of Seminary (the Church’s equivalent of Graduate School), a battery of psychological assessments and ecclesiastical exams, and the gathered wisdom of two local congregations (the one who sponsored my candidacy and the one who called me as a pastor) as well a regional governing body of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A). Unlike some “Reverends” , I did not obtain my Divinity or Theological Degree from a diploma mill or buy my ordination over the internet. Mr. Jones, what are your credentials?

Few Americans would undergo open-heart surgery from a “Surgeon” who obtained their M.D. from a correspondence school and their Board Certification over the internet, or be represented in a Court of Law by an “Attorney” whose law degree came from a diploma mill and the only bar they ever passed served drinks. Many Americans, however, are willing to follow blindly a so-called “Reverend” who has little if any theological education and whose ordination is worth about as much as three cereal box tops. Therefore, the Reverend Terry Jones serves as a Pastor of Dove World Outreach Center in Gainesville and has already experienced more than his fifteen minutes of fame.

I will be among the first to admit that a theological education and the ecclesiastical bureaucracy can stifle the Spirit, but they also guard against ignorance and stupidity. I have a hunch that Mr. Jones’ theological qualifications are thin and his ecclesiastical credentials are slim, or else he would not be saying what he is saying and planning to do what he says he is planning to do.

Mr. Jones, I read the Quran when I was still in high school. The Quran, as is the Tanakah and the New Testament, is the foundational text of one of the world’s three great monotheistic faiths. Rather than burning a copy of the Quran on September 11, 2010, I think I will raise it from the shelf in my library where it has been sitting, carry it with me, and read it in public as a protest against ignorance and intolerance and sign of support for peace loving Moslems.

This post has been cross posted on the blog, Presbyterian Bloggers

Safely Boating in New York

When my wife and I bought our first kayaks, about nine years ago, we both completed the BoatU.S. Foundation On-line Boating Safety Course  for West Virginia, where we were living at the time, so that we would be better prepared for situations we might face. While many states recognize such On-line Boating Safety Course, New York State does not, so I recently attended the required eight hours of classroom instruction and took and passed the written test to obtain my New York State Safe Boating Certificate. The course was offered through Safe Boating America.

Prior to taking the New York classroom course, however, I read the on-line course and took the practice quizzes. Even though I had undertaken this extra work and have nine years of kayaking experience behind me, I still learned a thing or two from the classroom instruction.

The class was held on a Tuesday and Thursday evening from 6-10 PM in rented classroom space in Midtown Manhattan. There were only twelve people in the class. Our instructor was Captain Kevin Ivany, a U.S.C.G Licensed Master. His teaching included power point presentations, videos, demonstration of equipment, and stories from his own experience as a charter boat captain, as well as the opportunity to ask questions. He was informative and educational as well as entertaining with a wealth of knowledge about New York Harbor and other area waters.

Although New York state does not require a Safe Boating Certificate unless one is operating a Personal Water Craft (PWC i.e. jet ski), and most of the course focused on power boating, I still recommend it for all kayakers paddling in New York Waters and anyone sailing or power boating in New York Waters.

About the September 2010 Header Photo

In early August, my wife and I attended a wedding that was about half an hour’s drive to the east. The reception was a few hours later, another hour’s drive to the east. It was not worth driving home between the wedding and the reception so we drove toward the reception and explored the northern coast of Long Island until it was time for the reception.

This was our first time to explore the northern shore of our home island, and we discovered that the closest coastal area near the reception was the Oyster Bay area. We parked near the waterfront and walked around T. Roosevelt Memorial Park during what was a warm, sunny afternoon with a slight breeze. While we were enjoying our waterfront walk, I snapped this month’s header photo with my HTC Imageo smart phone.

The shot looks out over Long Island Sound’s West Harbor from the T. Roosevelt Memorial Park.

Paddling the East River

Vicki paddling into the sunsett and under the bridge

I have lived in New York City for three years and since moving here have kayaked in Jamaica Bay and in the Great South Bay of Long Island. I have kayaked and sailed in the Hudson River. It was not until this past Saturday, however, that I paddled in the East River.

Thanks to an invitation from the Long Island City Community Boat House (LICCB), several members of the Sebago Canoe Club were treated to a late afternoon-early evening paddle on the East River. Most of us paddled tandem sit-on-tops. My wife and have been paddling our own sit-on-tops for over nine years but this trip was the first time we have ever paddled together in a tandem, an Ocean Kayak Malibu Two XL. Our paddling seemed well coordinated and our marriage survived.

We put in around 4:45 PM at the LICCB floating dock across the river from the United Nations. Paddling south with the ebb tide, we passed under the Williamsburg Bridge and Manhattan Bridge until we beached near the Brooklyn Bridge, where a wedding was in progress in the public park. We treated wedding guests to the sight of over a two dozen kayakers beaching their boats on the rocks not far from the ceremony, but neither the Bride or Groom, or any of the wedding party and guests, seemed phased.

After beaching, we spread out during a break while waiting for the flood tide. While waiting, my wife and I joined a few other Sebago paddlers to explore a nearby bookstore and pizzeria.

The flood tide started flowing at about the same time the sun appeared to set below the Manhattan skyline. With deck lights now adoring our kayaks, as New York State boating regulations require, we paddled with the flood tide up the east River, from whence we came. Near the end of our paddle, some of us let out an Allan Ginsbergesque howl, as the nearly full but now waxing moon appeared above the Eastern cityscape.

Back at the Boat House, with kayaks and gear stowed, we retired three flights up to the roof top for refreshments and a mixer between the two clubs, all under the rising moon and with the vibrant lights of upper Manhattan clearly in view across the river to the west. Cheese, crackers, chips, dips, beer and wine were in abundance.

One of the things I appreciated most about this trip was the generosity and hospitality of the LICCB, which allowed my wife and me to pack light and take the subway to the trip. We did not take, as we usually do, our own PFDs and paddles with us. Nor did we have to drive to the Sebago Club House, load boats on our car, drive to the destination, only to drive back to Sebago after the trip, unload, rinse boats and gear, and then drive back home.

According to my GPS, our trip covered about 9.5 miles, but I think a mile of that included our walking around where we beached, so the actual distance we paddled on the East River was probably closer to 8.5 miles. Here is a link to my picasa site where I posted a few photos from the trip. Tina Lee also shot some pics and here is a link to her picasa site.

Where Has The Summit Gone?

Old Rag, Shenandoah National Park

Over the past several months, it has become apparent that this blog has focused more on shores than summits. After all, I do live on an Island. In less than thirty minutes, without paying any tolls, I can be paddling or sailing on the waters of Jamaica Bay. On the other hand, driving up to the closest summits, the Gunks, and climbing at the Trapps or hiking the trails of the Mohonk Preserve, takes at least two hours and costs over $10 in tolls, one way! The economics seem to dictate that I spend more time on the water than on the rock, and that realization has finally hit me.

In late May and early June, my family vacationed for ten days by car camping at the southern end of Cape Hatteras National Seashore on Ocracoke Island, NC. While on Ocracoke, we enjoyed kayaking in the ocean and sound. We took pleasure in an evening sail. We rode a small ferry across the channel to Portsmouth Island. These were all “shore” activities. The highest natural point I ascended while on vacation was a sand dune between our campsite and the ocean. The highest elevation I gained was the roof top deck at Howard’s Pub.

While I have not kayaked as much as I would have liked this summer, I have kayaked. I have not climbed. I have not hiked or backpacked. I have new, unused, virgin climbing gear in my rucksack. I have a new pair of high quality Merrell Wilderness backpacking/mountaineering boots I have worn only once. On the other hand, my new Werner Camano kayaking paddle, newer than my Merrell boots, no longer looks new. The neck gasket on my Kōkatat TROPOS Swift Entry Drysuit needs replaced before the onset of cold-water paddling. It seems my shore gear is taking a beating while my summit gear is well preserved.

This summer has certainly been a water and shore summer rather than a mountain and summit summer. It started with a two-week vacation at the shore and ended with a month almost exclusively devoted to boating. In early August, I completed the eight-hour course required for a New York State Boating Safety Certificate and for the past three weeks, my wife and I have been taking sailing lessons on the Hudson River. Last Wednesday we completed our course work, passed our written test, and are now US Sailing Basic Keel Boat Certified. I’ll be writing more about these two courses in upcoming posts.

With another paddle or two scheduled before and on Labor Day, and more sailing in our future, it indeed seems that the shore has eclipsed the summit. But a love of and longing for the mountains still courses through my veins and I expect that there are still a few summits in my future.

Portsmouth Island

The southernmost island of the barrier islands that comprise Cape Hatteras National Seashore is Ocracoke Island. Near the southern end of Ocracoke Island is the small village of Ocracoke.

The northernmost island of the barriers islands that make of Cape Lookout National Seashore is Portsmouth Island. Near the northern tip of Portsmouth Island is the ghost village of Portsmouth. The last permanent resident left Portsmouth years ago. The National Park Service now maintains Portsmouth’s remaining buildings and only a few seasonal residents occupy them.

About three miles of water, a channel between the Atlantic Ocean and Pamlico Sound, separate the northern tip of Portsmouth Island from the southern tip of Ocracoke Island. On a clear day, one can look out across the channel from the boat ramp at Ocracoke and see Portsmouth Island.

Though my wife and I have been vacationing on Ocracoke for years, it was not until our most recent vacation that we ventured south across the channel to visit Portsmouth island. A day or two prior to the day we desired to visit Portsmouth Island I phoned Austin Boat Tours to reserve passage for us and our dog. The morning of our trip we gathered with other passengers on the small dock along the edge of Ocracoke’s Silver Lake and near the Community Store. Capt Rudy Austin (photo top left) talked to us about the importance of having water, suntan lotion, and insect repellent. After the talk, we were off, heading for Portsmouth Island. Captain Rudy did not even want to be paid in advance, saying that anyone that would not or did not pay on the return trip would not be returned, being marooned on Portsmouth Island. According to the Captain, every passenger he has ferried to Portsmouth Island has always paid to returned to Ocracoke.

Captain Rudy not only piloted the small flat bottom ferry but also served as a tour guide, offering up a running commentary on local flora and fauna, fish, history, and politics. While crossing the channel we saw several pods of dolphins (photo top right), some swimming close enough to the boat a passenger could almost reach out and touch them. As we approached closer to Portsmouth Island we passed by a smaller Island thick with waterfowl, including gulls and pelicans, including several young chicks (photo second from top right). Thanks to the Captain’s commentary, the natural encounters, and the overall scenic beauty and open water, the trip would have been worth it even if we had never stopped at Portsmouth Island.

We did stop at Portsmouth Island, however, docking at a long wooden pier on the western side (sound side) of the island just long enough for passengers to disembark. As the last one of us climbed off the boat, Captain Rudy pulled away, heading back for Ocracoke, saying he would pick us up on the northern end of the beach in about three hours.

Eventually we found our way into the old and now abandoned village of Portsmouth and, eventually, the mosquitoes and biting flies found us.

While we took our time visiting and photographing the old Methodist Church (photo third from top right), we refrained from visiting very long at any of the other buildings because of the biting insects and briskly walked through town in order to make it the ocean side beach before the mosquitoes sucked us dry and the biting flies euthanized our dog.

After crossing a long dry tidal mud flat, we made our way to one of the widest, cleanest and most deserted beaches I have ever seen (bottom photo right). While standing there, enjoying both the view and the isolation, including the absence of any biting insects, I wondered why we had not come here years ago. We spread out our towels, played in the water, enjoyed our lunch, and looked for shells.

Not to miss our boat ride back to Ocracoke, we finally started walking north along the beach as we headed for the rendezvous sooner than we would have liked to. We had been enjoying our idyllic beach so much that we could have stayed there much longer.

At the northern end of the beach, with the Ocracoke water tower visible in the distance, we waded out to Captain Rudy in the flat-bottomed ferry and headed back toward Ocracoke.

Now that I have been to Portsmouth and know what to expect, I hope that the next time I visit it I will paddle my own kayak there rather than taking a passenger ferry.

Anniversary Sail

My wife and I celebrated our anniversary during our recent vacation on Ocracoke. One of the ways we celebrated was by taking a Sunset Sail aboard the Windfall II (photo bottom right, over starboard, while sailing)

A few years ago, for no special occasion or reason other than sheer enjoyment, we had taken a Sunset Sail aboard the Windfall. A few months before our most recent Ocracoke vacation, and after over twenty-five years of service, however, the Windfall’s owner, Captain Rob Temple (photo top right), decommissioned the Windfall and purchased the Windfall II.

The Windfall II, a 32' Lazy Jack Schooner, does not hold as many people as the Windfall used to but she is still a fine ship, and Rob, assisted by his first mate son Emmet, provided us with a safe and entertaining sail. While Emmitt impressed me as a well mannered and intelligent fifteen year old with ample sailing experience, Rob displays a little more sea salt that comes from his being a middle aged man of the sea. With a little imagination, one might even hear a bit of a buccaneer in Rob’s voice as he occasionally talks about local history and pirate lore, especially when he points out the general vicinity where the Pirate Blackbeard lost his head after a battle with Lieutenant Robert Maynard.

In addition to Captain Rob and his son Emmet, there were six paying passengers on the sail. After we were all on board, the wind allowed Rob and Emmitt to raise the sails and sail us out of dock and the harbor into the open channel between the Atlantic Ocean and Pamlico Sound without the aid of the inboard motor.

After we had been sailing in the channel for a while, Rob asked if any of the six paying passengers would like to take the helm. I jumped at the chance. Standing behind the large wheel and following Rob’s instructions, he and his son continued to work the sheets while I steered the course directed by Rob. He even let me stay at the helm as we passed a North Carolina Department of Highways ferry on our port side. I found the hardest part of steering was being able to see the unlit day markers against the darkening sky. More than once Rob had to point them out to me so that I could stay in the channel.

Not wanting to hog the wheel, I asked if any other passengers wanted to try their hand at the helm. Since there no takers I stayed where I was and steered the ship for probably twenty minutes, and through several tacks, before Rob finally relieved me. I was glad he did relieve me because the sun was just about to set and I would not have been able to take any pictures while I was at the helm and I wanted to take a lot of pictures. Nor would my wife and I have been able to uncork and enjoy the bottle of red wine we had brought along to enjoy as we sailed.

As far as I know, the Windfall II is the only Sailboat docked in Silver Lake (the name of Ocracoke’s small harbor) that offers sailing cruises and that is available for charter. She will not sail if the wind or the water is too heavy. If the wind is light, she always has her motor.

Ocracoke’s sunsets on a summer’s night are some of the most spectacular, and romantic, sunsets I have known. Experiencing those sunsets from the cockpit of the Windfall II while under sail makes Ocracoke’s sunsets even more spectacular and romantic.

Ocracoke Ghost and History Walk

Prior to attending and blogging about the 219th Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) General Assembly, I had been writing about my family’s recent vacation on Ocracoke Island, NC. With a few kayaking posts as a buffer following all my reflections about the General Assembly, I now return to Ocracoke. I wish I could return physically to that Isle rather than just returning to it as a subject matter for blog posts because it is one of my favorite vacation spots.

My wife and I have been enjoying Ocracoke for decades. We have stayed on the island during all the seasons of the year, from a few days to a week, but our most recent trip there was our longest, a twelve-day stay. I find it amazing that even though we have been vacationing on Ocracoke for close to thirty years, we still find new things to do and experience when we go there. Perhaps that is partly why we keep returning.

For instance, this last stay we enjoyed an evening Ghost and History Walk led by the village businessperson and amateur local historian Phillip (Phil) Howard (photo top right). When we arrived outside his shop, The Village Craftsman, for that evening’s Ghost Walk, so many people had shown up for the walk that Phil divided the group in half. While Phil’s daughter led half of the group on a Ghost Walk of one side of the village, Phil led our half of the group on a Ghost Walk of the other side.

Our tour embarked around dusk, adding a liminal element to the setting. Fortunately, the mosquitoes were not in abundance, but if they had been, we had properly armed ourselves with repellent as well as long pants and long sleeves, in spite of the warm weather. While leading us along the winding and dusty back roads, overgrown paths, and quiet paved streets of the village, Phil pointed out various features, such as old historic trees, historic homes, and perhaps more importantly, cemeteries, while telling ghostly stories related to each.

The stories Phil related were not scary in and of themselves. No one jumped out from behind bushes. No one deployed or employed special props. No, this was not an amusement park haunted house sort of experience. Rather, Phil told stories recalling supposedly past hauntings, paranormal activity, and eerie experiences. Most of his stories involved former residents of Ocracoke, now long departed. Some stories called upon local seafaring history, including shipwrecks, deaths at sea, and ghost ships. It seemed that all his stories, well told with little dramatic flair, he based on a kernel of local historical fact. With a little embellishment, and the addition of the listener’s imagination, Phil’s tales suggested there was more to Ocracoke island and the village by the same name than one might expect—ghostly things.

The prevalence of small family cemeteries spread throughout the village, some of them included on the walk and containing the graves of Phil’s ancestors, added an ethereal element to the already liminal setting. I cannot say that I was ever scared during, or after the tour, but I was entertained and educated. Phil is a great storyteller and weaver of local yarns, and I am glad I went on the tour. In fact, I want to go again, either to experience the tour led by his daughter, or to tour the other side of the village.

Though I have not yet read it, Phil recently published a collection of Ghostly tails, Digging Up Uncle Evans: History, Ghost Tales, & Stories From Ocracoke Island, that I look forward to reading. I imagine, however, even though I will be able to hear Phil’s voice as I read those tales, reading them while sitting on the couch at home will not be the same as hearing Phil tell them while meandering down a winding and dusty road at dusk as that road passes by an old cemetery.