Like a Sailor, in a Storm at Sea

It had been a hot day all day long. It wasn't oppressively hot, like the weekend before it. The water was nice, steadily draining down the Hudson all day until about 3 PM, when it begin to flow in. We were shorthanded, and there was a near-constant line of people waiting to go out in our kayaks, but overall it was manageable.

A little before four the wind began to kick up. It was nice, a breeze to lighten the temperatures, but then we began to notice a heavy humidity weighing in the aird, and looking across the water we could see a mist, a light fog, forming and setting over the water. There were clouds above the Jersey side of the We knew we'd have to end the line soon just because it would take at least half an hour to get through the line. We started to pack up our unessentials. Then came the first drops of rain.

Rain in itself isn't so bad. Rain is just water, and we had all been out on the water already. It was very light rain, but then the wind began to pick up and the water got choppy. At low tide, the effects of wind and rain get exacerbated, as the water hits the ground sooner and the wind rushes across the surface. Moreover, the wind and tide were running into the same direction, so it was harder and harder for neophyte paddlers to keep from floating up the river. We called people in and cancelled the rest.

It was a good thing we did too. The rain came down harder and the sky was completely overcast. We began bringing our boats up to load them up on our carts. The wind kicked up something fierce and the rain came like soft bullets. A stack of papers came loose and blew all over the place; life jackets were ripped from the rack that they hung on. We managed to pack up all of our gear and start rolling everything to our storage containers, but only a few items at a time. The rack of jacks fishtailed wildly in the wind. The Hudson was gray like the Atlantic, with choppy, rain-dimpled waves.

Our storage area protected but still had a large puddle in it. We keep our things in a storage bin underneath a highway about five stories above us. Rain gutters from the highway drain not far from where we are at, and some kind of leak creates a sprinkler five feet wide, showering us with water below.

We are neighbors with a set of basketball courts. These are also underneath the highway, and so they continued. Little League baseball players huddled under the highway as well, their games rained out.

The wind died down but the rain persisted. We loaded everything up. We were soaked. The sun began to come out, leading to a surreal effect as the sun refracted in the water that was in the air: it was raining but the atmosphere was glowing with light. Two of us stopped at an outdoor cafe for drinks and watched until the rain finally stopped. When it did, we walked up to 72nd street and made our way home.