FOREST AND STREAM. 
[jAlf. 18, igos. 
From Gravesend Bay to Lake 
Champlain. 
By Way of River and Canal. 
In the hope that an account of a voyage in a small 
boat from Gravesend Bay to Essex, on Lake Champlain, 
would prove interesting to some Forest and Stream 
readers, I will undertake to relate what I can remember 
of that trip, taken last summer. 
My boat, Ramona, is 35ft. over all, lift, beam, 3ft. 
draft Avith hoisted centerboard, and her sail area is 
divided into a mainsail, forestaysail and jib. Her cabin 
furnishes good sleeping accommodations for four, and a 
roomy forecastle provides comfortably for the crew, one 
man. With a boat of this general description one may 
safely navigate the waters of the Hudson and the lake, 
and extract an amount of enjoyment from it difficult to 
realize unless experienced. 
I had written to John Townsend, a sailor as good as 
the best, to meet me at Gravesend on Friday, July 19, 
which he did. Saturday, in the neighborhood of 
New York city, was a still, sunshiny day. After a hearty 
breakfast we got under way about 8 o'clock, with a light 
but favorable wind. The sail through the Narrows and 
up the Bay was without special interest. Near the Statue 
of Liberty the wind died away completely, and to be brief 
about it, we did not reach Yonkers until 9 P. M., much 
to the disgust of two friends, one of whom I dropped the 
following day at Newburgh, the other accompanying 
me as far as Whitehall. 
All hands agreed to keep on. As a matter of fact, the 
Hudson below Poughkeepsie can be navigated almost 
as easily at night as in the daytime. The wind was light 
from the south, but the tide was running sticng up the 
river, and the Ramona bowled merrily along. Tlie lights 
of the city of Yonkers were soon dropped far astern. In 
a short time the bluff marking the end of the Palisades 
could be plainly made out, then Haverstraw Bay, with 
the lights of Tarrytown on the starboard side and of 
Nyack on the port. 
Harry and Fred by this time were sound asleep. 
Townsend and I smoked and talked at intervals, oc- 
casionally relieving one another at the wheel. The night 
stole quickly away, and sunrise found us off Stony 
Point, forty-two miles from New York. As the tide 
was running out and the wind light, there was nothing 
to do but to come to anchor, which we did in the little 
bay formed by Verplanck's Point on the left of the river. 
Here we were out of the way of any passing steamboat, 
and as the anchorage was good, we turned in without the 
slightest anxiety. Before doing so, however, I took a 
good look at the two points, because they were once 
fortified by the Colonists. When my companions re- 
gained consciousness, I know not; they were apparently 
indulging in a snoring contest when we quietly dropped 
anchor. 
I awoke about 9 o'clock, and after a plunge over- 
board, sat down alone to breakfast. It seems the boys 
(for boys they were then) had been up for several hours, 
had had their swim, their breakfast and gone ashore to 
get ice easily procurable at many places on the river. 
Sunday was a comfortable day on the water, but I 
have since been told it was a fearfully hot one ashore. 
The tide having commenced to run up the river, we 
got under way about 10 o'clock, with a gentle breeze 
from the south, and immediately entered the Highlands, 
the run through which consumed a little less than two 
hours. No one can sail this part of the river in the day- 
time in pleasant weather and be unmoved by the 
grandeur of the scenery, but to enjoy it to its fullest ex- 
tent travel leisurely in a small boat. I would advise, 
however, that the navigation of these twelve miles be 
not attempted except under favorable condition.-.. There 
is no anchorage, and it is a mean place to be caught in 
a squall. With a south or west wind this distance can 
soon be covered, and a good boat on a flood tide will 
beat through it quickly. 
The wind was now a wholesail breeze, but we could 
feel that it was a warm one. We reached Newburgh, 
sixty-one miles from New York, about 1 F. M., where 
my friend Harry reluctantly bade us good by. So far 
we had the river pretty much to ourselves, but now 
we fell in with a smart catboat, which hung on pretty 
well for some time. 
"I do not like the looks of things in the northwest," 
observed Townsend, "and if I am not greatly mistaken, 
we are going to catch it before night. These hot winds 
are regular weather breeders." 
The big bridge at Poughkeepsie came in sifht. It was 
soon reached, and the question of holding on longer 
became a debatable one. It was finally decided to make 
Rondout if possible, as there is good anchorage there. 
The wind was now much lighter. As we neared Rond- 
out, and while still in the middle of the stream, it became 
very black in the northwest. Townsend went forwaid 
to get the anchor ready. I took the wheel and Fred 
chose to remain in the companionway. For a moment 
or two it was still. Then we saw the black streak a 
good distance ahead. At this instant the upper currents 
of air, set in motion by the rapidly moving c< <lumn be- 
hind, began their play. As the boat heeled 10 the in- 
creased pressure, down came the jib and she was put 
close on the wind. She was now lying well over, the 
water not quite up to the cockpit rail. Just as 1 thought 
I would have to luff she eased up a little of her own 
accord, and I held her to it. Now Townsend signaled 
me that we had reached good anchorage. Ramona went 
up into the wind and down came the staysail. So far we 
had only encountered the advance guard of the squall. 
As soon as she lost headway, overboard went the an- 
chor, down came the mainsail, and all hands grabbing 
the canvas stops, began lashing the sail to the boom. 
It was 5 o'clock and as black as night. We had tied two 
or three stops when the squall struck. The ouslaupht 
is generally the heaviest part and it was so . in this ca^e. 
The rain came with it and beat against our chetks wvth 
such force that we thought it hail. Standing fin the 
cockpit, with the lower half of my body prote<:ted by 
the cabin house, I felt decidedly inclined to' hold on to 
the boom. 1 She did net drag, and it was soon oyer. We 
skw the cloud which occasioned all the digte-fj^e tutn 
VtM •!•• ■■<..'■ >rl »!■-• JftsjiWi, i, el., d -«. H« z " 
in its course and go straight down the river, with a lot 
of little black tails dangling below. The behavior of the 
boat under the circumstances brought forth an unqual- 
ified indorsement from my guest, who had kept very still 
through it all. Whatever his feelings were, his conduct 
was perfect. We learned the following day that the wind 
tore up many trees by the roots. Despite that fact, 
Townsend, in true sailorman fashion, spoke lightly of it. 
The following day the wind was light and dead ahead, 
so we only made Catskill by nightfall, a run of about 
thirty miles. That night, because of the extreme heat, I 
slept in the cockpit. 
Tuesday the wind freshened a little, still from the 
north. When the day boat overtook us in the late after- 
noon we observed with much concern a huge wave ex- 
tending clear across the river. It apparently was follow- 
ing the steamer with a speed equal to that of the boat 
itself. As she neared us she slowed down. Instantly 
the top of the wave began to break, and in a few seconds 
it had lost its formidable appearance. She had the big 
wave in tow again soon after resuming her usual speed. 
At this juncture a tug, towing a fleet of mud scows, 
came along, and we soon made fast to the last boat. 
There we found an auxiliary cat bound for Buffalo. 
Her crew, three Brooklyn gentlemen, greeted us 
cordially, and we exchanged visits. It was late and 
quite dark when we reached West Troy, otherwise we 
might not have tied up directly beneath the sunrise gun 
of the. Watervliet arsenal. Fortunately no damage was 
done when it was fired, but we all had a good laugh. 
There is a large crane a little north of the Congress 
street bridge in Troy, to which both boats proceeded 
Wednesday morning. The owners charged me $2.50 to 
unship my mast, and the remainder of the day was taken 
up in dismantling Ramona, preparatory to entering the. 
canal. Spars, rigging and small boat were arranged on 
deck, so as not to obstruct the view of the person steer- 
ing. 
While Townsend and Fred worked faithfully on the 
sloop, I proceeded to Albany to meet my wife and Mrs. 
A., whom I had invited to accompany me to Whitehall. 
As my wife brought with her our fox-terrier Prince, the 
little vessel had now a good complement of passengers. 
In order to take a small yacht through the canal it is 
absolutely necessary to obtain a permit from the 
State Commissioner of Public Works at Albany, other- 
wise one's progress will be stopped at the first lock. 
No fee is charged because the canals are free, but you 
must give your name, the name of your boat, her length, 
beam and draft before, the permit will be issued. 
We were taken in tow by another tug late Wednesday 
afternoon, locked into the Hudson above the dam at the 
so-called sloop lock, and then taken to Waterford, where 
we entered the Champlain Canal. The tug's charge for 
this service was $.2. Thursday morning we started for 
Whitehall, the northern terminus of the canal. I had 
bai gained with one of the stables to tow me through tor 
$15, irrespective of the length of time consumed, and 
the driver was promptly on hand. I was sorry to see 
that he had a large draft horse instead of the traditional 
mule. Somehow one expects mules when one; goes 
canalling. The horse was hitched to a little two- wheeled 
wagon, to the axle of which our tow line was fastened. 
This tow line, by the way. was 150ft. long and about 
the diameter of one's little finger. So the man was to 
ride and not walk along the tow path and swear. An- 
other disappointment. We had not proceeded far, how- 
ever, before I discovered that the driver resolutely main- 
tained one of the time-honored customs. In going 
around a sharp bend, in consequence of cai eless steering, 
the boat approached too near the opposite bank, the 
towline tightened, the little wagon began to slew around, 
and then Drive was heard from. The presence of the 
ladies had not the slightest influence on his language. 
The weather was now cool, in striking contrast to what 
had prevailed with us for more than a week. With the 
exception of the storm at Rondom, we had no rain on 
the entire trip. In this we were very fortunate, for I 
can readily imagine how much inclement weather would 
have dampened our spirits. As it was, we were an ex- 
ceedingly happy party, and I look back to no part of the 
journey with greater pleasure than the sixty-eight miles 
between Waterford and Whitehall. 
The canal passes through a rolling, grassy country. 
The scenery is always picturesque, and some of the 
glimpses of the Uppei Hudson truly inspiring. 
We fared well. At every lock butter, milk, eggs and 
fresh vegetables of the best quality were obtainable at 
reasonable prices. These stores make a b-isiness of 
supplying the wants of the dwellers on the numerous 
canal boats, who, I imagine, are more critical and ex- 
acting than many of us suspect. 
Perhaps a word or two how we passed through a lock 
may be inteesting. As you approach it. if it is not 
already occupied, you find the gate invitingly open. 
Just before entering, I would throw (he wheel over so 
as to bring the stern near the bank. Townsend would 
jump off and go up on the bridge. Then I would steer 
straight for the entrance. Once inside the basin, the 
gate is closed. Fred would cast off the towline and 
tluow to Townsend a small handline. Drive would 
proceed on his way up the hill until he reached the new 
level. When the forward gate was gradually opened, the 
water from above would flow into the basin and the boat 
would ascend, Fred and I standing by with fenders, to 
prevent her from chafing. When we reached the new 
level, which we did when the water ceased to flow, the 
forward gate was opened, Townsend gave her headway 
by means of the handline, she swung into the bank, the 
towline was thrown to Fred, who made it fast, Town- 
send got aboard, Drive swore at the horse, and we were 
off again. This maneuver was gone through with at 
each of the tweiitv locks. 
About 8 P. M. we reached Schuylerville, named m 
honor of Philip Schuyler, an American general in the 
revolutionary war. The next day, Friday, after passing 
the ten-mile level and Fort Edward, we began to lock 
down, following precisely the same method. Prince got 
plenty of exercise running along the towpath, where he 
continually barked, first at the horse and then at Drive, 
who seemed rather to enjoy it 
We retched Whitehall a little -'after dark. Immediately 
upon larding,' we rah into a policeman, perhaps not 
altogether accidenj ftj|y," Up satisfied hirnfelf in regard, 
to our identity, and then accommodatingly escorted the 
wJhole party to a restaurant, an establishment in which 
b}' this time we all had a keen interest. 
That night we lay moored in old Champlain, a short 
distance beyond the lock dividing the waters of the 
lake and the canal. 
The following morning, Saturday, all my guests de- 
parted for Essex on the railroad, leaving Townsend and! 
myself to follow with the boat. It took all day to step' 
our mast, set up the rigging and bend on the sails. 
There are two cranes at Whitehall available for this work, 
and the charge at either is but a trifle. 
Sunday morning we got under way. Happily for us 
the wind was from the south. For the first twelve or 
fifteen miles the lake is narrow for windward work. 
There is plenty of water, however, in the channel, which 
is marked by little red and black beacons. The wind 
hauled to the north about 1 o'clock, by which time we 
had plenty of room, 
Something more than twenty miles from Whitehall we 
passed Ticonderoga, where still stand some of the walls 
of a fort over whose ramparts the flags of three nations 
successively waved. This spot saw much hard fighting in 
the early history of this country. The natural beauty 
of the scenery challenges the admiration of Jthe traveler 
of to-day, whether he be familiar with or ignorant of 
the important events once here enacted. In this vicinity 
the waters of the lake are a pale yellow, caused by the 
clay bottom, but a little further north they become as 
clear as, those of the Horicon itself. 
Crown Point, where the ruins of one of the oldest 
fortresses in North America are still to be seen, was 
reached by supper time. Townsend for some time had 
been expatiating on the merits of the hotel_ at this place, 
so that when we dropped anchor I was in a mood to 
verify his statements. We found the host disposed to 
exert himself, with the result that our appetites were 
soon satisfied. Supper over, we lighted our pipes and 
discussed for a time with the loungers on the veranda 
the departed glories of the lake. I was regaled with 
statements concerning the* palmy days of the ore trade,, 
when fiftv vessels could be counted at one time; with art 
account of any number of the old steamboats, including 
the Franklin and the Champlain, and particularly how the 
latter went on the rocks one moonlight night. 
In' due time Port Henry was passed, then Barbour's 
L ; ght. marking the entrance .to Westport Bay. The 
shores are now very bold. From Westport Bay to 
Whallons Bay the mountains rise abruptly out of the 
water, the chain ending in a high promontory, upon 
which the Government long ago erected and has since 
maintained a lighthouse. This is known as Split Rock 
(Roche Rendu of the French), and varied are the ac- 
counts of it. This is considered the most beautiful part 
of the lake by many persons, although there are places 
further north which also have their champions. 
In the late afternoon the Ramona rounded the big 
rock which helps to form the split, and sailing westward 
into Whallons Bay, in a few minutes reached her moor- 
ings. As the cable slipped out, her gun barked vigor- 
ously, and our cruise of 300 miles was over. 
William Fife, Sr. 
William Fife, Sr., the well-known yacht designer and 
builder, died at his home at Fairlie, Scotland, on the Firth 
of Clyde, on Jan. 13, after a short illness. Mr. Fife took 
up yacht building on the Clyde over fifty years ago. He 
was the second of the family who have been engaged in 
yacht building at Fairlie, which is located on the Ayrshire 
coast. For three generations the Fife family have been 
famed for the beauty and speed of their productions. 
William Fife, the first, a millwright by trade, started to 
build yachts in a small way at Ayrshire. The original 
Fife died in the early sixties at eighty-five years of age 
and was succeeded by his son, who has just died. During 
his career he turned out many successful yachts, among 
them Latona, Fiona, Stella, Bloodhound and Neptune. 
In addition to the many racing yachts built by him, a 
large number of other craft were constructed at his 
yard, and the business had increased greatly in size. 
After conducting the business with great success for a 
number of years, it was turned over to his son in 1886. 
Kathleen, 
The 33ft. waterline schooner, plans of which appeared 
in our two previous issues, has been named Kathleen. 
The following is an extract from a letter written by the 
owner, Mr. D. McLewis, to the designer, Mr. Charles 
G. Davis : 
"The schooner Kathleen will be finished this week [the 
letter is dated Jan. 7], and a most excellent job was made 
of her by her builders. I expect a party of friends here 
on the 10th, when we will start on a cruise from here 
south, taking in Old Tampa Bay, Manitee River, Big 
and Little Sarasota, Lemon Bay, Charlotte Harbor, Pine 
Island Sound, Myacka River, Matlasha Pass, Myers and 
Punta Rassa, so south to Thousand Islands. These 
waters are inclosed with keys and there are narrow 
passes connecting with the Gulf of Mexico, affording the 
finest kind of fishing. 
"The inside waters are smooth and abound in wild- 
fowl, and on the mainland can be found quail, turkey and 
deer in abundance. In fact, as a sportsman's paradise I 
know of none to equal it. The sailing is all done in 
smooth water, only going on the Gulf to get from one 
pass to the other, distances averaging from three to 
seven miles between passes. 
"The winter climate is dry, fog unheard of, seldom 
rainy in winter, and it has always been a wonder to me 
it was not more frequented by yachtsmen." 
The House-Boat on the Nile. 
Houghton, Mifflin & Company, Boston, the publishers 
of "Our House-Boat on the Nile," have produced in this 
book one ef the most delightful narratives that we have 
read in a long time, and one that will especially interest 
the readers of Forest and Stream. 
Mrs. Henry Bacon tells the story of a voyage of sev- 
eral weeks on the Nile in a dahabeyah. in the late fall of 
|8orj and |he parly part pf 1900. The voyage began about 
