Brownski
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jul 19, 2020
Please note, all pics are from 2025 and in somewhat random order….
I first volunteered to be an escort for The Lighthouse Swim two years ago. I found it to be a gratifying experience. It’s nice when you can use one of your hobbies to benefit a good cause, in this case to raise money for a charity called Feeding Westchester. All that’s involved in being an escort is listening to a zoom meeting the week before to get a rundown of how the open water swim is conducted, when to show up, what to expect on the water, things like that. On the day of the swim you just have to show up with your kayak, paddle across the river from Tarrytown to the Nyack marina and wait for the swimmers to enter the water. There are multiple layers of safety resources out on the water for the swimmers, including boats from multiple fire and police departments, the Coast Guard and multiple jet skis with more volunteers on them. The boats are the outer perimeter, then the jet skis in the middle and the the kayakers and paddle boarders amongst the swimmers, hopefully within arm’s reach of any swimmers that need help.
The Hudson River is about two miles wide between Nyack and Tarrytown, the section known as the Tappan Zee. The first time I volunteered for the swim, everything went pretty smooth. The tidal currents through this area can be pretty strong so the swim organizers do their best to schedule it during a period of relative calm. That only goes so far though. Last year, some offshore storms contributed to stronger than normal currents and high winds. As I paddled across the river with my fellow escorts that morning, I was questioning whether conditions were suitable. I felt confident in my own abilities and equipment- I was paddling a seventeen foot long sea kayak with two water tight bulkheads and a neoprene skirt to keep the waves out of my cockpit. The escorts in shorter recreational kayaks and those on paddle boards had a tougher time in the wind.
I reached the western side of the Hudson and waited the swim’s start while other escorts trickled in. I heard a conversation start on the radio regarding the water conditions. Some of the kayakers and paddle boarders behind me were having trouble with the weather. Eventually, all the escorts made it over but the swim’s start came and went while the radio continued to crackle- the swim’s organizers continued to discuss safety with the coast guard and other safety personnel.
Cancelling the swim was of course the last thing anybody wanted but eventually somebody said it out loud. There was additional discussion. They made the tough call and cancelled the swim. We got the word to head back to Tarrytown. I heard somebody on the radio suggest taking the paddle boarders onto some of the motor boats to get a ride back and the organizers agreed it was a good idea, made it happen. I started paddling east.
The water had gotten rougher while we waited on the Nyack side. It was one of those days when the wind and the currents were in conflict, resulting in bigger than normal chop with steep faced waves that seemed to move in two directions at once. I’d seen these conditions before. Up close, it looks scary but I knew my boat could handle it. Even so, getting hit sideways by one of the bigger waves might pose a capsize danger. I deployed my rudder and kept an eye on the water, making sure I took the waves at something close to forty five degrees, resulting in a sort of zig zag course. Slow maybe but consistent and steady was fine with me. I could hear radio chatter about some of my fellow escorts having trouble and requiring assistance from the motorboats and jet skis. I kept an eye on the other kayakers near me but they were alright. I concentrated on not becoming a problem myself.
It was a white knuckler at times but I reached Tarrytown without any real difficulties. I pulled my kayak up the beach and watched as one paddler after paddler arrived on the beach safely. Eventually, everybody made it back to Tarrytown. The radio chatter died down and we all started reloading our cars with kayaks and paddle boards and gear. Spirits remained high in spite of a lot of nervous smiles and comments like “whew, that was rough”. Somebody mentioned that the swimmers would all get included in next year’s swim. 2024 was a trip.
So this year, after signing up to volunteer again, I wasn’t surprised to see an email asking for additional kayakers. They had more swimmers signed up than ever before but needed another twenty or so escorts to conduct the event safely. I could understand why some of the paddlers from 2024 might be reluctant. I had been thinking about inviting some of my NYSkiblog friends to participate. I own three boats that I considered appropriate for the job so I messaged JKPA, who I had recently and somewhat hilariously discovered was a guy I’d hung out with back in my college days. He was in, which was great. I hadn’t seen the guy in close to thirty years. Catching up would be fun. I also invited Ripitz to join the crew, either in my third kayak or, hopefully on his paddle board, since I wanted to get Junior involved too. Ripitz responded that since he was doing a thirty mile race the day before, he didn’t think he’d be up for it. That’s a pretty good alibi, I thought. Junior was in though.
When September 14, the day of the swim, came, my van was already loaded with the three kayaks and all the gear we would need. I got Junior up early and we drove over to Kingsland point park in Tarrytown. We started unloading and JKPA soon showed up. Between getting all the kayaks ready to go and catching up with my old friend, I had my hands full. We got all three kayaks to the water in time for the organizers’ final safety meeting. As a group we were assigned to the second to last group of swimmers and asked to not let anyone get left behind.
My fleet for the day consisted of two Wilderness Systems Sealutions, both with rudders, and a 13 foot Dagger Charleston with no rudder, just a skeg. They are all super stable boats but the Sealutions are much faster and the rudders would make handling any waves easier so I gave them to Junior and JK and I took the Dagger.
I didn’t have any real worries about JKPA or Junior but I did keep an eye on them for a while. Neither of them had any difficulties. The weather was more cooperative than it had been in 2024 and they both paddled well. We were among the first escorts to reach Nyack, partly because we made good time and partly because the people who are new to this area tend to track towards the Tappan Zee Bridge to the south. We took a more direct route. Then we had more time to just hang out and me and JK caught up some more, chatted about our families and stuff, everything that happened in the intervening years. To me college feels like yesterday, even though it was the early nineties. I think I last saw JKPA in 1996. I’m sure Junior got a kick out of listening to us relive the old days.
At nine AM, it was time for the swim to start and people started splashing into the water. Every swimmer had a colored swim cap and trailed an orange swimmer buoy behind them. The first eight waves entered the water in sequence and the escort paddlers pealed off in turn, a few accompanying each bunch of buoys and bobbing multi-colored heads as they headed east. We followed wave nine out, me on the north side and Junior and JKPA on the south. Based on the tides that morning, the swimmers had to follow a route that arced dramatically northward. The route was marked by a series of big orange inflated buoys, placed that morning by the swim’s organizers.
I first volunteered to be an escort for The Lighthouse Swim two years ago. I found it to be a gratifying experience. It’s nice when you can use one of your hobbies to benefit a good cause, in this case to raise money for a charity called Feeding Westchester. All that’s involved in being an escort is listening to a zoom meeting the week before to get a rundown of how the open water swim is conducted, when to show up, what to expect on the water, things like that. On the day of the swim you just have to show up with your kayak, paddle across the river from Tarrytown to the Nyack marina and wait for the swimmers to enter the water. There are multiple layers of safety resources out on the water for the swimmers, including boats from multiple fire and police departments, the Coast Guard and multiple jet skis with more volunteers on them. The boats are the outer perimeter, then the jet skis in the middle and the the kayakers and paddle boarders amongst the swimmers, hopefully within arm’s reach of any swimmers that need help.
The Hudson River is about two miles wide between Nyack and Tarrytown, the section known as the Tappan Zee. The first time I volunteered for the swim, everything went pretty smooth. The tidal currents through this area can be pretty strong so the swim organizers do their best to schedule it during a period of relative calm. That only goes so far though. Last year, some offshore storms contributed to stronger than normal currents and high winds. As I paddled across the river with my fellow escorts that morning, I was questioning whether conditions were suitable. I felt confident in my own abilities and equipment- I was paddling a seventeen foot long sea kayak with two water tight bulkheads and a neoprene skirt to keep the waves out of my cockpit. The escorts in shorter recreational kayaks and those on paddle boards had a tougher time in the wind.
I reached the western side of the Hudson and waited the swim’s start while other escorts trickled in. I heard a conversation start on the radio regarding the water conditions. Some of the kayakers and paddle boarders behind me were having trouble with the weather. Eventually, all the escorts made it over but the swim’s start came and went while the radio continued to crackle- the swim’s organizers continued to discuss safety with the coast guard and other safety personnel.
Cancelling the swim was of course the last thing anybody wanted but eventually somebody said it out loud. There was additional discussion. They made the tough call and cancelled the swim. We got the word to head back to Tarrytown. I heard somebody on the radio suggest taking the paddle boarders onto some of the motor boats to get a ride back and the organizers agreed it was a good idea, made it happen. I started paddling east.
The water had gotten rougher while we waited on the Nyack side. It was one of those days when the wind and the currents were in conflict, resulting in bigger than normal chop with steep faced waves that seemed to move in two directions at once. I’d seen these conditions before. Up close, it looks scary but I knew my boat could handle it. Even so, getting hit sideways by one of the bigger waves might pose a capsize danger. I deployed my rudder and kept an eye on the water, making sure I took the waves at something close to forty five degrees, resulting in a sort of zig zag course. Slow maybe but consistent and steady was fine with me. I could hear radio chatter about some of my fellow escorts having trouble and requiring assistance from the motorboats and jet skis. I kept an eye on the other kayakers near me but they were alright. I concentrated on not becoming a problem myself.
It was a white knuckler at times but I reached Tarrytown without any real difficulties. I pulled my kayak up the beach and watched as one paddler after paddler arrived on the beach safely. Eventually, everybody made it back to Tarrytown. The radio chatter died down and we all started reloading our cars with kayaks and paddle boards and gear. Spirits remained high in spite of a lot of nervous smiles and comments like “whew, that was rough”. Somebody mentioned that the swimmers would all get included in next year’s swim. 2024 was a trip.
So this year, after signing up to volunteer again, I wasn’t surprised to see an email asking for additional kayakers. They had more swimmers signed up than ever before but needed another twenty or so escorts to conduct the event safely. I could understand why some of the paddlers from 2024 might be reluctant. I had been thinking about inviting some of my NYSkiblog friends to participate. I own three boats that I considered appropriate for the job so I messaged JKPA, who I had recently and somewhat hilariously discovered was a guy I’d hung out with back in my college days. He was in, which was great. I hadn’t seen the guy in close to thirty years. Catching up would be fun. I also invited Ripitz to join the crew, either in my third kayak or, hopefully on his paddle board, since I wanted to get Junior involved too. Ripitz responded that since he was doing a thirty mile race the day before, he didn’t think he’d be up for it. That’s a pretty good alibi, I thought. Junior was in though.
When September 14, the day of the swim, came, my van was already loaded with the three kayaks and all the gear we would need. I got Junior up early and we drove over to Kingsland point park in Tarrytown. We started unloading and JKPA soon showed up. Between getting all the kayaks ready to go and catching up with my old friend, I had my hands full. We got all three kayaks to the water in time for the organizers’ final safety meeting. As a group we were assigned to the second to last group of swimmers and asked to not let anyone get left behind.
My fleet for the day consisted of two Wilderness Systems Sealutions, both with rudders, and a 13 foot Dagger Charleston with no rudder, just a skeg. They are all super stable boats but the Sealutions are much faster and the rudders would make handling any waves easier so I gave them to Junior and JK and I took the Dagger.
I didn’t have any real worries about JKPA or Junior but I did keep an eye on them for a while. Neither of them had any difficulties. The weather was more cooperative than it had been in 2024 and they both paddled well. We were among the first escorts to reach Nyack, partly because we made good time and partly because the people who are new to this area tend to track towards the Tappan Zee Bridge to the south. We took a more direct route. Then we had more time to just hang out and me and JK caught up some more, chatted about our families and stuff, everything that happened in the intervening years. To me college feels like yesterday, even though it was the early nineties. I think I last saw JKPA in 1996. I’m sure Junior got a kick out of listening to us relive the old days.
At nine AM, it was time for the swim to start and people started splashing into the water. Every swimmer had a colored swim cap and trailed an orange swimmer buoy behind them. The first eight waves entered the water in sequence and the escort paddlers pealed off in turn, a few accompanying each bunch of buoys and bobbing multi-colored heads as they headed east. We followed wave nine out, me on the north side and Junior and JKPA on the south. Based on the tides that morning, the swimmers had to follow a route that arced dramatically northward. The route was marked by a series of big orange inflated buoys, placed that morning by the swim’s organizers.
