Last week, the night before I went to Piermont, I went along on another trip with some friends downtown.
For weeks I had wondered what “Surf City” was on the shop’s trip calendar. Of course, I learned earlier that week when we took clients, but still, I kick a kick out of Surf City: it’s a waterfront pub, not surfing in the slightest sense.
So, half a dozen or so of us set out on a friendly trip to Surf City. We left Pier 40 at low tide, moving quickly down and across the river. It’s not far, perhaps three miles, with the current doing most of the work.
As we paddled in to Morris Canal, we saw a quartet of small sailboats moving in formation, parallel, then in a line, then whirling in a line.
Surf City has a gas-powered fire pit. We took it over, ordered food and drinks, and settled in.
My camera doesn’t capture night shots well, but I did get a couple: an unusually tall-masted sailboat, and lower Manhattan from across the way.
There were steady winds from the southwest, and as we headed back, they kicked up a steady following sea. By the time we got back to Pier 40, a steady surge of waves was carrying us in. One to two feet high, we surfed in – surf city after all.