Craptain’s log, stardate 9/12/19
Good morning from clammy Clyde, NY. It’s a cool, gray, overcast morning, with at least 200% humidity.
You join me in the living room, where I’m enjoying a rapidly cooling cup of french press. Mom has found an outlet on the dock to use her hair dryer, and I’ve just completed my engine room checks. Aside from a touch more water in the bilge than we had two days ago, all looks well. I’ll have to do a check when we’re underway to see where that’s coming from.
We made tracks yesterday. 64 miles, seven locks, and two failed pumpout attempts. I can now chime in on a thread on Trawler Forum about not being able to find one that works, so that’s fun!
We were planning on stopping at Lyons last night, but after getting tied up and discovering that the pumpout machine there doesn’t even start up, we encountered a spot of bother. The problem was a man. A small, stupidly drunk man with a purple face and a dirty shirt. He kept hanging around begging for money. He was aggressive about it and we just couldn’t get him to go away. I decided that I didn’t feel great about Lyons, and at 6 PM with fading light, we threw off the lines and continued east. I called the cops on the way out and let them know. They knew exactly which purple faced shambling zombie corpse I was talking about.
It was our first night time transit, and it went well enough. We had meatloaf for dinner underway, and found a cozy spot on a small free wall at Clyde. Aside from some noise from the trains that run about 100 yards away, it was a quiet and comfortable stop.
Since we made such big mileage yesterday, today will be a walk in the park, and we can let our hair down a bit. Well they can, I don’t have any hair.
