Locked Up on the Erie. Locked Down on the Erie.

 (Psst! Down is better.)

"I got an old mule, her name is Sal"

We’ve spent the last week slowly progressing westward on the Erie Canal.  Opened in 1825 and enlarged and expanded several times, It now stretches 338  miles from Waterford, NY on the Hudson to Buffalo, NY on the eastern shore of Lake Erie.  Once a vital commercial arterial, it now hosts only recreational traffic, rising (and falling)  571 feet above sea level thru 57 locks.  Its eastern portion makes heavy use of the (dredged) Mohawk River and man-made canal portions for its course.  West of Lake Oneida (between locks 22 and 23, it begins tracing the  courses of the carefully managed Oneida and Seneca Rivers, again with man-made lengths where required.  

Off we go!

 Our journey began at Waterford, where we made for the first “flight”   of  locks 2-6. This group must be run end-to-end before traffic coming    the other direction can be allowed.  Together they comprise the largest   lift in the shortest distance of any canal system in the world    A   6:30   am departure ensured we were first in line for westbound traffic.   We traveled with Florida friends Larry and Mary on Living the   Dream.   Building on  our rookie experience with Lock #1 at Troy, NY,   we refined our technique as we went.  The basic process we followed for locking is as follows:

• Notify the Lockmaster via VHF radio of your desire to lock thru
• Watch for the traffic light on the lock gates to turn green
• Enter the lock slowly and move to the prescribed sidewall as the massive lock doors close behind you.
• Have your beautiful, talented,  and understanding deckhand grab one of the  slimy weighted line (gloves required) provided along the lock wall.
• Leaving the boat idling in neutral, scramble to the side deck or swim step to grab a second slimy weighted line. 
• Forget your gloves, life jacket, or both
• Inadvertently leave the boat in gear, terrifying your beautiful, talented, and understanding deckhand as the boat backs toward the closed massive lock doors.
• Trip over the dog.  Maybe twice.
• Be reminded that everything you say, whisper, or mutter goes directly to the ears of your beautiful, talented, and understanding deckhand via your “marriage saver” headset.
• Sing sea chanteys to your beautiful, talented, and understanding deckhand as you both work to hold the boat on the wall amid the turbulence created by the filing of the lock and any swirling winds.
• Ride the rising water up out of the concrete canyon back into the sunshine.
• As the exit gates open, release the slimy weighted lines and motor slowly out of the lock into the next section of the canal. 
• Give your beautiful, talented, and understanding deckhand a high five or a kiss (or both)
• Get ready to do it all over again. Amen.

 So, off we went up thru Lock 2, Lock 3, Lock 4, Lock 5, Loc……not so fast…….why is lock 6 not opening?   A radio call to Lock 6 brought a response from Lock 5 that Lock 6 was experiencing a “computer problem” and the opening would be delayed “about 15 minutes”.   So we began to hover in the short pool between 5 and 6.   After 20 minutes, we called again to learn that they were “working on it”.  In another 20 minutes, we again hear it would be “about 15 minutes”.    (By this time, Wade is having flashbacks to network outages at work.  Ugh!)

After an hour, we learned the “engineer was on his way.”, at which point we decided to tie off to the canal wall and shut down our en

gines.  Admiral Maggie enjoyed a nice walk in the grass and we settled in for a long wait.

Waiting for the engineer.

The young captain of Sea Fever, the large sailboat behind us hiked up the road to Lock 6 and came back to report that the engineer had the panels off the control board and was testing circuits with a multi-meter.  (Not a good sign).   Finally, after a   delay of almost three hours,  Lock 6 called us and said they could only open one door at each end of the lock and could we squeeze thru.   Heck Yes! we could and it’s a good thing because Lock 6 subsequently remained closed for three days!  We ended our first day after Lock 7, tired but proud, at Mowhawk Harbor in Schenectady NY.

Day 2 on the Erie took us to a riverside park at Amsterdam, NY, passing (uneventfully) thru Locks 8, 9, and 10.    Day 3 was a longer day, involving seven locks, taking us to the picturesque community of Little Falls.   This is where we encountered the infamous Lock 17.   This lock is unique in that its eastern door is a giant steel guillotine-style structure, rather than the usual swing gates.  With a 40+ foot lift and a narrow entrance, it is a bit intimidating to navigate.

Lock 17: Abandon hope, ye who enter....

(You may also recall recent news reports of the mechanical failure that closed Lock 17 for almost a week in early June.  Happy to have missed THAT drama.) But on the other side of scary lock 17, we discovered a wonderful riverside park operated by the Little Falls Rotary with inexpensive full-service moorage.   A short walk into town took us to a nice Mexican diner. 

Guard Gates of Doom?

A word about Guard Gates:   Guard Gates are massive steel doors that can be lowered to isolate sections of the canal for drainage and maintenance.  We have passed thru several of these industrial-looking structures along our course.  Each one is uniquely intimidating.

Peace on the Mohawk

 On day 4, we got an early start to make the 50-mile,   five-lock run to Sylvan Beach, on the eastern shore of Lake Oneida.  This part of the Erie starts to feel like an extended version of the Thorofare between   Priest Lake and  Upper Priest Lake.    Quiet waters between heavily wooded shores, no-wake speeds, and lots of wildlife.  But the day’s highlight was our first DOWN lock as we passed over the “hump” out of the Mohawk River drainage and entered a manmade stretch of canal descending to Lake Oneida.   Locking DOWN is SO more pleasant that locking up, with no turbulence as the water in the lock simply drains away.   Relative bliss for line handlers.

In command!

Sylvan Beach is a pleasant lakeside, resort-y town with free no-services moorage at the mouth of the canal.  Despite the rain, easy access to town gave us the opportunity to “ice-up” our big cooler so that we could defrost our fridge and freezer.  We enjoyed a quiet dinner aboard and settled in for……

BUT, THEN THE HORDES DESCENDED! 

A corps of a bazillion and a half mayflies attacked from all points of the compass, covering the boat from stem to stern.  For Commodore Kathleen (already disturbed by the increasing lock wall stains on the boat) this was the last straw.  She sprang into action with brush, rag, and vacuum,  sending thousands of the little creatures to their doom. 

YET ON THEY CAME!

At the peak, she was shoveling their winged carcasses off the swim step with a dustpan.  (Our boat neighbor used a cordless leaf blower to great advantage.)  It was an EPIC battle, lasting thru at least three glasses of wine.

BUT WE PREVAILED!  BE GONE, PROTO-DRAGON FLIES!  GO FIND SOME OVER-POWERED, WAKE-MAKING  SEA RAY TO LIGHT UPON.  BE GONE, I SAY!!!!!!

(Deep breath)

OK.

Where were we?

Oh yes,

Lake Oneida. 

Let save that for our next post, shall we?

 

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