It is evening at Liberty Landing Marina, New Jersey, which is directly across the Hudson from Manhattan, New York City. The fading sun is glinting off the glass skin of the Freedom Tower, which replaced the destroyed World Trade Centers. In the distance is the Empire State Building, now dwarfed by more modern edifices.
We arrived here after a 132-mile run from Cape May, New Jersey, having toured the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays. We don't usually go that far in a day, but weather might have pinned us down for days, so we took what appeared to be a good window and went for it. Part of our decision was based on advice from a yacht delivery captain in Cape May, who assured us that the dense fog and winds predicted weren't accurate and that "it will be a fine day."
About 90 minutes later we were trapped in a fog that I wouldn't describe as pea soup, as that would be generous, but a fog more like clam chowder. Zero visibility, lots of boat traffic and substantial rolling waves coming from the side. I have now added to my catalog of life lessons - get your weather reports from the National Oceanic weather service, not from dock dude. I have previously learned not to take tree falling advice from guys in Swan Valley bars, so you would think I would know better.
Ultimately we survived waves, swells, fog and a plethora of supertankers to arrive in downtown New York. I visited Ellis Island, searched their database, and found the record of my father, grandmother, and two aunts who arrived on a ship from London in 1922. The Statue of Liberty is crazy powerful up close, we drove right by it in the boat.
Most evocative for me was visiting the 911 Memorial Museum. It is set in the foundation of one of the towers, and the crater contains the exhibits. Pieces of the towers, destroyed emergency vehicles and testimonies of the victims and families are intensely moving. What was most disturbing for me was the incredibly elaborate scheme with so many players that crept right past intelligence agencies.
Tomorrow we head up the Hudson River, dodging ferry boats, container ships, sail boats, jet skis - basically anything that floats. After our hair-raising trip on the open Atlantic, and the shooting gallery getting into New York, I pondered the fact that I retired from surgical practice, which has its stressful joys, only to take on this adventure. Certainly my wife, Pam, who spent much of our Atlantic trip with a blanket over her head, making her peace with the Lord (I wasn't included), would ponder as well.
Maybe our fundamental nature is genetically wired. I seemed to have sought experiences that induce nerve wracking anxiety but have the potential for glowing buzz bombs as a potential reward. There is no rush without risk. Maybe I will grow out of it. I'm not sure when you grow out of things, but at 67 years you wonder if that ship has sailed. Or sunk.
From where I sit next to the Hudson, the Freedom Tower is very close, and the havoc that ensued, the human tragedy when those planes struck is beyond my ability to process. From that incomprehensible carnage now rises a sleek and defiant response to hate.
I can handle a few waves.
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