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During the early afternoon a storm began brewing.  For many miles we enjoyed dramatic blue skies with huge, towering clouds.  Conditions aligned and we encountered hard rain after Lock E-21, the first of the two descending locks before reaching Sylvan Beach.  The rain suited my sad mood every well.  But, retreating into the lounge did not.

When the rain tapered off, I stepped back out on deck and photographed one of two nearly identical bridges between the last lock and the lake -- the Vienna Higgensville Road or the Cove Road, both of Pennsylvania through-truss design.  Even with raindrops disturbing the water's surface, the light had come up sufficiently to provide wonderful reflections, interestingly only of the structure's vertical rods, not of its overall shape.

Waterford Flight

I write this in our little cabin aboard the Grande Mariner.  We are moored for the night just west of Lock 11 at Amsterdam NY.  Except for frequent, long* trains which pass by within 150 feet, all is quiet.  What a day we have had.  I am too overwhelmed and thrilled by our journey to chronicle all of it.  So, a few words and several photographs before I turn out my little reading light.

We reached the Mohawk River today, travelling on the actual Hudson River less than two miles before turning left at Waterford and entering the Erie Canal.  The canal system is treated much like a highway.  The signs at major intersections look much like the road signs we're all used to seeing and, mostly, obeying.

We passed through the five locks of the Waterford Flight over the course of the morning.  In only 1.5 miles the series of locks manages a lift of 170 feet -- the largest lift in the shortest distance of any system in the world -- and gets the traveller to the level of, and around, Cohoes Falls.  Our historian tells us the falls are strikingly beautiful from the downstream side, the Mohawk's Niagara, but are pretty boring from above -- unless, of course, you are adrift and heading toward them with no good way to propel your craft upstream to safety.  Then, the view -- and everything else -- is pretty exciting!

* The first train we saw as we exited the lock had eleven engines.

Here's a look at our day.

Remember the song about the Erie Canal?  "Low bridge, ev'rybody down!  Low bridge, for we're comin' to a town."  Having left the Hudson River, our ship faced its first tight underpass, the bridge to Peebles Island, in the boat harbor at Waterford.  The doors to Lock E2 are visible on the left side of the photograph.  Though the Federal Lock is not part of the Erie Canal and is not officially Lock #1, it is counted as such and the numbering on the canal begins with 2.)

The view back from inside Lock E3.  The ship below is the Day Peckinpaugh.  Built in 1921 it was the first motor ship expressly designed to navigate both the open water of the Great Lakes and the NY State Barge Canal.  It is now a feature of the Waterford Maritime Historical Society.

At each lock a member of the crew has to ascend to the top of the lock and tie off the Grand Mariner.  Once the lift is complete and the ship has cleared the lock the crew member leaps back aboard on the after deck.  Being fit seems to be part of the deal.

A view of Lock E4 from the top of Lock E5.  It is evident from the hills in the distance that we are gaining some altitude.

The second of two guard gates at the top of the flight of locks, which protect the Waterford Flight and the town of Waterford. 

Twin Bridges, aka Thaddeus Kosciusko Bridge, carries traffic on I-87 from Colonie NY to Halfmoon NY.  While on the East and the Hudson Rivers, I photographed every bridge we passed under, but gave up that practice after leaving the Hudson.  These two spans were too graceful not to document.




Detail at Lock E7
The colors used on the
Erie Canal -- buildings,
locks, boats -- are blue
and yellow.



Lock E7 marks the last of the permanent dams along the Erie Canal.



And, at Lock E8 we encountered the first of the removable dams.  Large steel plates which fit between uprights slide up and down to regulate the flow of water.  When the navigation season ends, the steel plates are lifted and the uprights swing up clear of the water.



Some of the gears which operate the gates at Lock E11



The Grande Mariner moored above Lock E11 for the night.  It was here in Amsterdam that the reporters caught up with the captain.  This is the first cruise ship through the canal this season and is, thereby, newsworthy -- especially after the spring this part of the world has endured. 

We were treated to some evening entertainment: Skip Parsons' Jazz Trio.  The passing trains only competed a little bit, not stopping us from tapping our toes even once.

Changing one's vantage point

While I have not spent any significant time in the Hudson River Valley during my life, there is a stretch along the river Tal and I visited on occasion when we lived NW of Philadelphia. We toured Lyndhurst (at Tarrytown) and West Point, hiked Storm King and admired the bridges, learned to watch for passenger trains in the east side of the river and freight trains on the west side.

Today I saw familiar places from a different – literally – point of view. I spent hours on the ship’s open top deck, unable to get beyond the surprise and pleasure of looking inland at the passing landscape from the water as opposed to looking at the water and the passing watercraft from the shore.  Nonchalant I'm not.

 

The Rip Van Winkle Bridge
at Catskill NY

Through the day Sam has pointed out landmarks, talked about the battles fought over the years to control the Hudson – battles among countries during the colonial period and battles among families during the nation’s youth – and returned again and again to our waterway theme. I have continued photographing bridges, pleased at the fact that I could gaze at them in a leisurely and admiring way. So much better than the quick and limited looking I’m able to do while driving and minding traffic.

Life aboard ship is setting in to a wonderful routine.  The meals have been and are exceptional, delicious, interesting with homemade everything, including all the baked goods -- cakes, pies, muffins, breads, dinner rolls.  There's the not so routine as well, such as this morning's fire drill.

Two things are going on here.  The rolls are being formed in the foreground and the individual sponge cakes for strawberry shortcake have just gone in the oven.

The crew has clear duties
during a drill.  These guys
tested hoses, shooting
geysers of water off the
back of the boat.

Here we are in the assembly spot -- the dining room -- with everyone present and accounted for.



Before ...

Our location for tonight and tomorrow night is Troy, the birthplace of both Uncle Sam and the American industrial revolution. While we are here the crew will prepare the vessel for travel on the Eric Canal, clearing the top deck of everything, including the pilot house.



... and after.  That's the frame used to lower the pilot house onto the deck just behind the bow still standing in place.

A day of bridges

On Wednesday we departed the Blount dock in Warren well in advance of the publicized sailing time of 2:00PM.  All the passengers were aboard and enjoying a first meal and the tide was going out.  If the captain had waited until 2:00, we would have likely ended up enjoying dinner in Warren.

Last night the tables were turned; our departure from Newport was delayed by an hour and a half.  Given the unsettled weather the captain advised us to take advantage of the motion sickness remedies being offered and explained that we would not leave Newport until 9:30.  We were going to be in the Atlantic Ocean for about 90 minutes as we left the mouth of Narragansett Bay and made the turn west to enter the protection of the Long Island Sound.  His hope was that everyone would be in their cabins and ready for bed before the "rockin' n' rollin'" began.  Oh, what a ride.  And, then what a marvelous sleep as we sailed through the night.

We awoke, not surprisingly, to dense fog.  As we approached the East River after breakfast, the fog experience was made more intense by the regular sounding of our fog horn and several of the crew at the bow on both levels straining for sight of channel markers and other boats and obstructions.  The moment the Throgg's Neck Bridge miraged into view was ... well, beyond description.  (See my photographic effort for this date at my Flickr page.)

From there we sailed the East River to the southern tip of Manhattan and paused for a leisurely time bobbing about at the feet of Miss Liberty.  As we admired her and relished the moment, some thoughtful soul on the crew played Kate Smith's rendition of "God Bless America" over the PA.  Then, we made our way into the Hudson (not actually a river until beyond Albany, as it's tidal for 150 miles inland, making it an estuary of the Atlantic Ocean that far).

In total, we sailed under 14 bridges today (and, from Miss Liberty I could see the Varazanno-Narrows in the distance through the mist).  Need I say I photographed every one?  Probably not.  I shall refrain from "sharing" either images or bridge names in the proper order.  But, my parting shot is below -- looking back through the sea smoke at the fading George Washington Bridge from some distance up the Hudson.  Sigh ...

  

On the waterfront in Savannah

So far both evenings in Savannah we have made our way to River Street. 

Sunday afternoon it was teeming with tourists, a pleasant sort of aimless throng.  It felt magic to me, the sounds and scents different from what I'm used to in my everyday life.  Cobblestones under foot, the tall balconied buildings rising up from the narrow street, street cars, sidewalk artists and musicians, couples with strollers and older couples holding hands (that included the two of us).  The river was almost as busy as the street, with pleasure boats vying for space along with huge container ships and colorful tugs. 

Having missed lunch, we had an early dinner at the Olympia Cafe, a Greek restaurant which reminded me of the now gone Elite Cafe in Columbia I used to frequent in a former life.  We shared an entree -- sauted grouper with lamb gravy, lemon roasted new potatoes and rice with onions and green peas.  Luscious.  And, the light in the restaurant ... sweet, almost holy.  I felt obligated to make a few photographs.  Our waiter wanted to straighten the chairs!

Last night didn't include a meal as we'd had a big lunch.  (Plus, the hospitality room stocked by the spouses of the rifle team has some really good stuff!)  We left the hotel for the waterfront simply to sit by the river, to watch evening creep up, to see the lights come on across the bridge.  We were thoroughly entertained. 

In one particularly dear scene a little child, a toddler, spotted a young man walking his dog.  The young man noticed the child's interest and stopped to speak.  A quick consultation with the parents resulted in the child being invited to "take" the leash and help walk the dog.  Over the moon, I think would be a fair description of the child's response.  Giving the leash back took a bit of negiotiation!

Here are a few shots of a container ship, the Dubai Express, we watched make its way toward the terminal.

















And, finally, THE bridge.  Driving over it takes such concentration.  One wants to look at the bridge, not the traffic on the bridge.  Yikes.  Imagine my disappointment that the bridge's construction did not allow for pedestrian access. 

The Talmage Memorial Bridge, a cable-stayed span, was completed in November of 1990. 
This shot was taken at dusk after the Dubia Express had passed through.
Our hotel is located very near the left tower. 



There are two sets of cables on each tower.  When viewed from a better angle than in the photograph above, the cables appear to be four sails.  I have yet to locate that "better angle" for a photograph of the entire bridge.  Safety is a real issue (more from traffic than from Savannah's residents, by the way).  The shot to the right was taken from the parking lot as we arrived back at the hotel for the night.

Bridges with histories

The weather was just perfect -- low 40s-brisk and sunny.  Tal and I set out at mid-day for a hike along Turkey Creek in the Sumter National Forest.  The focal point of our outing was to be the Key Bridge, named for Henry Key, recipient of land grants in the historic Edgefield District during the late 18th century.

The water was low on Turkey Creek.  That we were not planning to canoe made the low water a non-issue.  Our walk took us along a hardwood bluff where we could observe the flood plain forest and marshy areas along the creek.  Given the time of day we saw no wildlife to mention with the exception of a huge flock of what Tal called rice birds in a large open field referred to as Price's Bottom.

But, what a pleasure to discover not one but two bridges, each one highlighting the other.  One carries vehicular traffic on Key Road (S-19-68) and the other provides pedestrian access to the hiking/biking trail. 

Both are on their second lives.  The pedestrian bridge was built in 1912 to serve travellers between Augusta and Liberty Hill.  The vehicular bridge was built in 1925 on US17 in Georgetown County.  It was moved to its present location in 1961. 

Seen from the older bridge
this the 150-foot steel two-lane Parker through-truss bridge
built by the Roanoke Iron and Bridge Works.

Built in 1912 and rebuilt in 2007
the original bridge is a 122-foot steel one-lane pin-connected Pratt through-truss.
Note the wonderful cypress knees in the bottom right corner of the photograph.

Both bridges seen from the canoe launch at creek level.

What beauties they are. Converting the images to black-and-white seemed appropriate.  To see an additional photograph of the bridge we crossed in the car, go to my Image a Day on Flickr.