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The Marvelous Moto-Cruise Page 2

The Marvelous Moto-Cruise
Part 2: The Hudson was spectacular: cobalt skies, golden marshes, lime-green hillsides.

By Capt. Bill Pike — February 2001
 More of this Feature
• Part 1: The Marvelous Moto-Cruise
• Part 2: The Marvelous Moto-Cruise continued
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“How about dinner at the River Street Café in Troy?” Mallory yelled. Sally and I piled into the rumble seat, and B.J. hit the gas. The drive south instantly validated the whole moto-cruise idea. Without the Plymouth we’d have had to wait for a cab or settle for far less than a truly great restaurant. Moreover, Sally and I would have missed rumble-seating down the interstate, an experience roughly akin to riding in the cockpit of a throttled-out Gold Cup mahogany racer. And B.J. would have missed the boost she got from blasting past slow pokes. The cornmeal-crusted red grouper at the Café was excellent.

Next morning dawned frostily but cozily thanks to the Linssen's diesel-fired heating system with thermostat-controlled radiators. We all slept late, then once the Plymouth had again taken us to Troy for breakfast at Bob’s Diner and a few stops at antique shops on Water Street, Sally and B.J. hit the trail in the Plymouth doing the legal (or near-legal) speed limit, and Charles and I hit the waterways in the Linssen doing 8 knots.

The Hudson was spectacular: cobalt skies, golden marshes, lime-green hillsides. The Linssen's effective sound-insulation system, including soft mounts on machinery, a vibration-reducing Centa thrust bearing, and a smooth four-blade propeller, made progress south almost canoe-quiet. Mallory and I ceased talking eventually, choosing instead to listen to the burbling of the bow wave, the rattle of kingfishers ashore, and the willowy winds in the mast stays.

We met the girls for lunch at the Hook Boat Club, a smart little destination hidden by the southern tip of Houghtaling Island, some 35 miles down river. Shallow-water piloting assistance from club member and Mallory's friend Wayne Sansbury, a good man with a Boston Whaler Montauk, made getting to the dock safe and easy. Soon the Plymouth was full-up again and following Sansbury to his nearby home, where his wife Lois was putting the finishing touches on a picnic, a lavish affair if ever there was one. Afterwards, B.J. and I returned to the Linssen, she to peruse a new copy of Waldy Malouf’s The Hudson River Valley Cookbook, me to examine aspects of construction and engineering. Sally and Charles headed south in the car.

That evening was a piece of pure poetry. As B.J. and I entered the little harbor town of Catskill in the Linssen, the whole place seemed bathed in some ineffable golden light. Idled down, the boat ghosted along through it, her image reflected in Catskill Creek. Somewhere a jazz band played. A dog barked. B.J. smiled. At length, I pulled the throttle back and we simply stopped: two people floating in a Magritte painting. We tied the Linssen up at last in Catskill marina, where Sally and Mallory greeted us with a rumble seat full of apples and other goodies.

The remaining days of The Marvelous Hudson Moto-Cruise went much like the first two, earning a seal of approval from everyone, especially Mallory, who this year will offer classic cars with all his Linssen charters. Of course, the extravagance of cruising with two wonderful conveyances ultimately lulled us into an incredibly Epicurean state. So it was inevitable that we’d fetch up on the shores of Hyde Park, home of the Culinary Institute of America, the nation's leading cooking school. The journey to the CIA's fabled Escoffier Restaurant was short, facilitated by the Plymouth. A remark B.J. made during dessert synopsized the consensus. “Let's do another moto-cruise next year."” She laughed, “How about a BMW 507?”

Mallory Line
Phone: (800) 830-5341. Fax: (518) 273-0922. www.canalboat.com. Circle Reader Service No. 265.

Next page > Dutch Treat > Page 1, 2, 3, 4

This article originally appeared in the January 2003 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.

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