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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.

Little Falls to Sylvan Beach: a last day afloat

I would be lying if I claimed that today's arrival is OK with me. These past several days travelling by boat have been such fun and so easy. I appreciate having a room where all our stuff stays; I appreciate being able to retire there when the company gets to be a little much; I appreciate not having to comply strictly to a schedule. And, all that ends first thing in the morning. But, we have today and my task -- and I did choose to accept it -- has been to engage the day. But, to risk a touch of melodrama, I have been aware that I've been doing some things I have liked so much for the last time.

This is the lounge shortly after 7:00AM, featuring the big, popular coffee urn and morning activities, like reading, checking e-mail, the jigsaw puzzle in the left front, the daily newspaper thanks to, Lisa, our early-rising cruise director,
conversation.

Our departure was leisurely, our travel distance less than 50 miles with four locks to negotiate.  Tal and I enjoyed another walk around the harbor, noting that all the watercraft we saw at nightfall had departed, leaving the dock empty except for the Grande Mariner. 

At Lock E18 shortly after we left Little Falls the canal parted company with the Mohawk, the river off on our starboard side turning into a meandering, fly-fishing stream beyond that point.  For the only time this trip we shared a lock with another vessel, the occupants looking not quite at ease with the situation.  Once the lift was done, the Irresistable moved out with haste and we didn't see it again.

I know those folks were silently pleading "close gate, quick, close the gate!"



And, I love the looming shadow cast by the bow of the Grande Mariner.

Railroad bridge and doors to Lock E19

The approach to Lock E19 looked ominous, boasting the lowest bridge we would encounter with a clearance today of 21 feet.  We proceeded under with care, the captain noting that all we would need was a train to take to the bridge at that moment, which would lower the bridge as much as an inch.  It was close.  We eased into the lock with a train crossing the bridge behind us.

Today's section of the canal is straight and on the industrial side in some places and remote-looking in others.  We passed viewing stands with waving locals, fishermen (and women) in the shade of bridges, dredging crews.  We encountered lowering clouds and rain, debris in the high water (a water heater being the most unusual item), wildlife.  I only left the deck for lunch and to begin packing.

Approaching Lock E21

At Lock E21 we locked through down rather than up, a mementous moment meaning that we were nearing Sylvan Beach.  It felt sort of odd, the disappearing from view rather than rising into view.  That sad sentiment was hard to shake, but I had help (see below).

Here's Tal doing his best to keep me cheerful! I can't resist that cute face.



So, like it or not, we arrived in Sylvan Beach for the night.  We docked alongside an RV park.  While our appearance was something of a novelty, when the park's residents learned the boat could be there from three days to a week, they were not thrilled, since the Grande Mariner blocks the view of the the water for some 85 feet.   It's hard to fathom that they didn't like it as much as I do!

The RV park residents prefer this to my boat?  Makes a girl wonder ...

Evening in Little Falls



By the time Tal and I returned from our
stroll the tender, the Egret, had been
launched and repairs were underway.

Once through Lock E17 arriving at the Little Falls Canal Harbor took less than half an hour.  It had been a good day, but many of us were ready to go for a walk.  Rather than explore the harbor, hike to the falls, investigate the neighborhood, however, the first thing most of us did was walk to the bow of the boat to check out the damage from mid-day -- to the captain's good-natured horror.  His words were and I quote, "Oh, you don't want to go up there."  But, of course, we wanted nothing more.

The walk was invigorating even though we had no idea where we were going.  The double tracks that had provided my lullaby last night were still across the Mohawk from us.  Train traffic continued to be steady, but moved much more sedately given being in town and the grade involved.  We passed over an old section of the Erie Canal.  And, here's a building I found especially intriguing -- for the shadow-patterns cast by the light fixtures and the doors on the second floor.

The harbor was crowded with boats headed west into the Great Lakes and other locales for the summer.  After supper aboard the Grande Mariner I went back out to enjoy some evening photography and was treated to a rather dear sight: a covered dish dinner.  Folks from the six or so vessels moored for the night pooled their resources and met for conversation and a meal on the large after-deck of one of the boats.  I understand that often those traveling the canal at the same time strike up friendships and end up staying together and looking out for each other until reaching their various destinations.  Anyway, good scents and lots of laughter.  The way life is supposed to be.

I had a wonderful time with the tripod and camera before dark, as you can see.

The Mohawk River, looking west from the beyond where the Grande Mariner was moored for the night.

A detail of the fountain near the entrance to the Little Falls Canal Harbor.  I had to stay out until after 8:00 for the light to fade enough for the length shutter speed I wanted.  The harbor master left the water on until I'd finished.

We were treated to musical entertainment for a second night in a row.  Of course, it wasn't supposed to happen that way, a near double-feature.  On the long-forgotten original schedule we were to have heard Skip Parsons late last week.  Mike Kornrich wasn't supposed to entertain us until we reached Rochester -- where we are now not going.  To their credit, these two drove the three hours from Rochester to Little Falls.  They were terrific. 

High and lifted up

Since turning left on the Hudson into the mouth of the Mohawk, we have been hearing about Lock E17.  It's legendary, with a 40.5 foot lift, half again as high as any along the canal.  When it was built, it replaced four locks.


And, it's imposing, looking like a huge concrete box with a door at the bottom -- which it is.  Showing below the green girder with the "17" painted on it in the image to the right is the counterweighted 150-ton door which lowers to hold water in the lock.  On approaching that gaping entrance and looking inside, the other end of the concrete box has look doors high on the wall. 

Easing in

Looking east from the top of Lock E17
Note the counterweight immediately under the "17" and the NY169 bridge swooping across the river in the distance.



A detail of one of the pair of chains
which control the downstream door
of Lock E17.



Looking toward Little Falls
The cliff to the right of the river is a popular rockclimbing spot. Boaters look at the climbers and climbers looks back at the boaters. 



Billowy clouds and blue skies

The excitement at Lock E-14 was short-lived and we sailed through the afternoon, literally and figuratively.  For a time, after the lock at Fort Plain (E15), we and the Mohawk River parted company, joining once again just beyond Five-Mile Dam at Indian Castle.

A few photographs from those hours will give a sense of the scenery and spare you (and me) any more words.

Looking across the front of the freshly-painted dam at Lock E15.  The farm on the far side of the river gives an indication of the richness and the beauty of the Mohawk River valley.  Sam, our historian, reminds us repeatedly that at the time the Erie Canal was built and into its mid-1800 heyday, there would have been no trees in sight, everything having been cut for fuel and building material.  What we see now is just over 100 years of growth.



We have lifted about eight feet, awaiting the opening of the gates and the continuation of our journey.  The lock-keepers on the canal take great pride in the grounds around the lock.  Most are park-like with picnic tables and benches, inviting the considerable numbers of people who come to watch the lock traffic.

An abstract of the backside of the dam at Lock E15, featuring
reflections of the chains which operate the metal plates and
the steel guides.

Abstract of the Grande Mariner's wake
leaving Lock E15, with chain reflection
in the upper left corner.

The view under one of the two guard gates with an abandoned bridge in the distance as we near the intersection of the canal and the Mohawk River just east of Little Falls.  I think this is Guard Gate E3.

Looking back at Five-Mile Dam on the Mohawk River.  The Grande Mariner has completed its run on the canal and, heading west toward Little Falls, has rejoined the river.

What a beautiful day for a cruise.

Lock E14 at Canajoharie

Lock E14 and its dam as seen from the east

Westbound boaters approaching locks on the Erie Canal with removable dams prefer that the major flow of water being released through the dam be as far away from the lock as possible.  When the situation is otherwise, a whirlpool can form in advance of the lock making piloting vessels into the chamber extra difficult.  The higher the water the more serious the problem.

Such was the case today.  The gates closest to the lock were open full.  The water this late spring/early summer is near-record high.  And, there was wind, as well -- blowing front right to back left.

The chief engineer was piloting the boat.  The bow started in OK, but with the competing current and wind the craft didn't have enough momentum to carry it straight .  (When conditions are ideal, the Grand Mariner with some momentum can enter a lock using the bow thrusters primarily for direction.)  The pilot lost control of the back of the boat and the boat hit the port-side entrance to the lock -- hard.  In the end and to keep damage to a minimum the captain took the helm, backed the boat downstream, realigned and began again.  With his decisive (aggressive) use of the propellers, rudder and bow thrusters, the Grand Mariner overcame the current and slipped into the lock.


Crisis averted, we are rising in the lock.
The one with the radio is the first mate.

The photograph to the right is a scene repeated lock after lock after lock.  I've already noted a deck hand gets off the vessel goes to the top of the lock to hold the line while the Grande Mariner is in the lock.  I think of it was walking the boat.  Also, a member of the crew is stationed on the lock-side side of the boat and communicates with the captain, who, with the pilot house lowered to the deck while on the Eric Canal, cannot see the boat's position.  How many feet he has between the lock wall on the bow and on the stern is updated constantly while the craft is in the lock.

We needed to take on potable water -- and to get over all the excitement, so we ate lunch while in the lock.  Another memorable meal, this one for both the roasted red pepper soup and the lobster sandwiches.  Oh, my ...  I suspect there's going to begin some major weight recalibration the minute we return home!

For all the mischief it caused the dam at Lock E14 is a beautiful structure.

Amsterdam morning

I had the lounge and deck to myself for a luxurious length of time this morning -- after a memorable night.  Our cabin is on the starboard side of the upper deck, which allows us a window that opens.  The fresh air is welcome, but it came with something of a price here in Amsterdam.  A steady procession of trains.  They didn't keep me awake.  Rather, they were a part of my sleeping.  "Ah, a train," I'd think and drift off again.  I shall always remember Amsterdam -- and that double set of tracks -- with fondness.

This is the sight that awaited me when I stepped out on deck.  I am a little puzzled at the apparent sunrise since I was facing WNW.  But, it was an expansive scene nonetheless.  And, the light in the trees on the right side of the image?  Yes, a train approacheth!

And, while I'm thinking about our starboard side cabin here's a view of it.  The bathroom is at my left shoulder and the dresser to my right.  It's small but efficient, with absolutely no extra steps required.  That said, it's interesting when we both stand up at the same time!  Someone rising early getting out in the morning is almost a necessity.

The morning's travel was leisurely, but steady, taking us through Locks E12 (Tribes Hill) and 13 (Randall) before lunch.  Along the way Sam pointed out to us on our port side a good section of an original aqueduct which canal traffic used when crossing Schoharie Creek.  And, we made our way through a section of the Mohawk River valley known as the "noses," a break in the Adirondack Mountain chain that is judged to have been as important to the opening of this country to the west as was the Cumberland Gap.  The New York Thruway, the original canal, the Mohawk River and the railroad all squeeze through the same space.  A cruise ship sailing through the middle of New York state gets considerable attention from motorists on the interstate!



Looking west on the Mohawk River at the Noses.