In Brooklyn Baby!

The current was so strong at 79th street that we could only get on or off the boat at certain times of the day or we’d get swept out to sea or up the Hudson. To be honest with you I (James) never mind a good row, it brings such peace to my day before and after a wage slave shift that I’ve never really had issues with rowing either in a current or not. The current was strong and the weather was crappy at 79th Street but it never made either one of us lose a shift of drudgery. The real reason to hate that place? My fucking bike got stolen at the 79th street boat basin the night Dena got back from South Dakota. Trying to own a bicycle is the very thing that turned me into an anarchist in the first place. It’s proof-positive that owning anything is impossible. I’ve had so many bikes stolen from me that I have a personal policy of beating the shit out of a bike for the entire time that I have it, simply because I don’t want the next bike thief that drunkenly stumbles up to my ride in need of the next fix to get a good deal of any kind by stealing my bike. Fuck those people! Although the Kryptonite company will insure a lock anywhere in the U.S. BUT Manhattan, bike thieves are everywhere and they all suck. So even though it was, absolutely, the best bike ride I’ve commuted on (Ever!)…THEY STOLE MY FUCKING BIKE!!! Fuck the the upper west side. We’re going to Brooklyn. So on Saturday as the tide came around to an ebb we rocket-sailed back to the anchorage behind the Statue, put the hook down, and enjoyed a night of much needed[…]

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The 79th Street Rodeo

Today will surly live in infamy! Monday, May 12th 2014, the day the United States of America was invaded by the French Canadians… First they take the 79th street boat basin in Downtown Manhattan! Then?! Who knows!? …But have no fear America, the crew of the S/V, S.N. Intrepid-Itinerant, Nomad has your first line of defense! We’ll hold-up here until we foil their nefarious plans to take over our great country! Your welcome.

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Jump!

3 weeks! …Not bad for free digs within rock throwing distance of the City. The routine went like this… I’d get up around 4:00pm, do the coffee thing and if the weather was shitty, which it was most of the time, I’d get geared up and go out on deck to check the ground tackle, foredeck, midships, cockpit, fantail, wind generator, and standing rig … Check! Back on the hook and off the grid, that is the way this boat performs best. And let me tell you, it’s incredible to experience so viscerally the fruits of your labors. And let me tell you about those labors… …I’d feed myself next, read some and then Dena would text around 6:30 or so to let me know that she was going down into the PATH station from midtown Manhattan, Grove Street bound. She’d text me again at the Grove Street station, I’d wait about 10 minutes then jump in the little boat and row in to the public dock to meet. A couple of times over the past few weeks I managed to hit it perfectly where Dena would be riding up just as I’d be rowing into the dock. that was definitely cool, it felt like we were making this thing, this Cryptozoic, thing look easy. …She’d jump in the boat and depending on a combination of, her level of retail-exhaustion, wind direction and of course, velocity, she’d either row back to the boat, or not. We’d chill out, she’d decompress and I’d ready myself for another night of graveyard-wage slavery in TriBeca. In the morning after my servitude-to-capitalism I’d work out, steam, shower, jump on a train and then ride back to the anchorage where I’d find the little boat locked up to the dock where Dena had left it[…]

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