Three Rivers
July 8, 2009
Finding the next sailing day was not so easy. On July 3, just
before the July 4th weekend, I had set off on my bike, laden with
sailing gear. When I got to the Allegheny River, the winds were
gusting up to 12 mph. I crossed the 7th Street Bridge and rode down
the river, stopping to measure windspeed and watch for current. It
was complicated since the July 4th preparations were blocking access
in many places. All this time, I was peering so closely at the dark
and raging water that I didn't notice that there were no ordinary
pleasure crafts to be seen. Then I noticed. The rivers were closed
for the July 4th weekend to make space for the races and other
events. No sailing this weekend.
The next hospitable day was Tuesday July 7th. I left the office
early to be able to get to the water. Alas, by the time I arrived
downtown, the winds were picking up just too much. I walked over to
the 9th Street Bridge just to look. No forecast or number ever quite
replaces just seeing the river. It was windy and they were
forecasting higher winds of 15-16 mph. I can sail in those winds. I'd
probably reef the sail (reduce its area) and take extra care while
tacking. But as I thought through what that would mean, it all seemed
less appealing. In high winds, there's no room for error. Slip up and
your boat tips; and you are in the water. Sailing is meant to be fun.
This sounded like hard work. No sailing.
The next day, July 8, it all came together. It was a glorious,
sunny afternoon with winds forecast at a gentle 5 mph, WNW. The river
currents, I noted, were down. The flow on the Allegheny was around
12,000 cubic feet per second. That seems to translate to something
like a quarter to half a mile per hour (on the basis of my highly
inaccurate pacings on other days on the riverbank). There was
virtually no current on the Mon; the flow at Elizabeth was down to
1,000-1,500 cubic feet per second.
So I set off for a very leisurely and enjoyable afternoon's
sailing. This was the day on which I would sail for the first time on
all three rivers: the Ohio, the Allegheny and the Mon. While the
forecast was for 5 mph winds, the reality was wind anywhere from 0 to
5 mph. In course of the afternoon, I found myself sitting becalmed in
glassy waters wondering if a barge would lumber down upon me and how
I would ever get back home. But then the winds would pick up to a
gentle breeze. I would be off, sometimes quickly, sometimes very
slowly, with a bubbling wake behind me.
It was a little gentler than I wanted. However it was restful and
enjoyable. There was plenty of time just to sit and look at the city
at it passed by and to wave and chat for a moment with the kayakers.
I also like sailing in very light winds since everything happens much
more slowly. I can sail precisely. I can choose a narrow channel
under a bridge, notice a gentle breeze flowing through it, and tack
to and fro to get through.
This time I had a new toy. I was carrying a GPS system, which was
dutifully logging my track (shown above). Click HERE to see it in greater
detail.
(Update: The mystery of the slight mislocations of the track on
the map is now solved. For
corrected maps see here (satellite)
and here (street).)
I put into the water at the Newport Marina at the leftmost
(western) edge of the map. You'll see that I made it up the
Allegheny, as far as the Convention Center, and up the Mon, as far as
the Smithfield Street Bridge. The placing of the track on the map by
Google Earth is not entirely accurate. I not did sail over the land!
But otherwise it is pretty good. The interesting feature is to see
the two types of courses. When my course is relatively straight, I am
sailing with the wind behind me. Then I am sailing roughly eastward.
When my course zig-zags, I am tacking into the wind. Then I am
sailing westward.
In the top left hand corner of the map, you will see some very
tight zig zags on my return journey. While I was nearing home, a
tugboat pushing two large barges appeared. On earlier sails, I would
have pulled over and stopped sailing ("hove to"). In gentle winds,
very precise movements are possible. So I tacked to and fro in a
tight zig zag, keeping over to the side of the river farthest from
the barges.
The time on the water was about 4 hours and 25 minutes. That time
reflects a lot of periods of slow sailing and of sitting becalmed. I
also docked at the point and took a nice stroll around Point State
Park. You get stiff and little sore in places sitting on a small deck
for hours.
The GPS device confirmed the accuracy of the trick for computing
speeds by counting the seconds needed for debris to pass (in the June
27 entry: 1mph = 8.2 seconds). In modest winds of 3-5 mph, I tended
to sail comfortably at 3-4 mph. When the winds stiffened for brief
gusts, my speed would rise to 5 mph, peaking at 6 mph. On a windier
day, I was sure the boat would go faster.
Here are some more photos, most taken from the deck. It was tricky
taking them since, when the wind blows, I have no free hands to work
a camera. I waited until the wind dropped so I could take my hands
off the tiller and mainsheet to fiddle with the camera. Some are
taken by holding out the camera and pointing blindly back at me.
Sometimes photos like that work. More often...
I've just dropped my bike and I am about to take the boat off its
trailer and rig it.
Made it past the bridges at 6th, 7th and 9th Streets!
This is the bubbling wake rising against calmer water. It is the sign
that tells you that, at last, you are moving.
The blue cord wound round the mast is the one to pull when you want
to furl the sail. Pull it, and the sail winds up like a blind.
Easy!
This railway bridge at the Convention Center is as far up the
Allegheny as I could get. The wind just died in this little pocket.
There were one or two lackluster puffs, but they were not enough to
overcome the slight current. I seemed to spend a long time looking at
this bridge, waiting for the wind to draw me under it. The GPS track
shows me sailing under this bridge. That exaggerates. My track turns
just before the bridge.
On the return, I'm approaching the Duquesne Bridge. In the distance,
one of the big riverboats approaches. I'll keep well away from it.
John D. Norton
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