WPSU

Friday, August 2, 2019

Boat Gourmet Uses Up the Leftovers

Chicken and sugar-snap peas. Serve al fresco with a beer and say, "High Five! We didn't sink the boat today!"
We call our travel on Dragonfly a “voyage of sustainability.” Sure, we’re testing the boat’s home-made solar propulsion system. But we also try to live sustainably in other ways, lots of them having to do with dinner.

Last week we had super-hot weather. One “good-boatkeeping” solution is to have a cold dinner--salad or sandwiches. No point heating up the boat by turning on the stove! But I was bored with salads and ready to cook SOMETHING! So I made stir-fried chicken with snow peas.

Save Fuel, Cook Fast

This dish cooks fast, so you don’t heat up the boat tooooo much! I served it over jasmine rice, which cooks in just 12 minutes. (Other quick-cooking carbs to keep in your boat larder: cous-cous (just boil water), angel hair pasta (cooks in five minues), and my fave, Thai rice noodles--just soak in water!)

The recipe didn’t call for onion. But I had a half an onion sitting there in the fridge. Taking up space and not getting any younger. Also a couple aging scallions. What stir-fry is NOT improved by a scallion or two?

Since we started cruising Dragonfly, I'm obsessed with using up leftovers. Wasted food is one of those unsung societal issues that to my mind, deserves lots more attention. (Thank you, National Geographic!)

The U.S. FDA estimates a whopping 30-40 percent of the total food supply in our nation ends up in the trash, un-eaten. That’s perfectly good food, in the landfill. Not to mention the waste of water and fertilizer to produce the food . . . and the fuel and labor to process and transport it.

I used to be totally guilty of overbuying. Everything looks so delicious in the produce aisle. And then you can't eat all the oranges in that big bag, and they grow fuzzy blue mold. Or you get fancy cheeses for your party and people merely nibble. . .  and then how much Brie can you personally eat up before the stuff gets funky?

With just a dorm-sized fridge and minimal cupboard space on the boat, I can’t overbuy, because there’s no where to put stuff! But more importantly, I’m always trolling the fridge to see what needs to get used up.

So back to the stir-fry. Serves four, delicious for dinner one night and lunch the next day. Just keep the fan running while you cook to push that hot air off the boat!

Chinese-style Chicken and Snap Peas

Two boneless skinless chicken breasts
2 to 3 cups raw sugar snap pea pods
3 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp rice wine vinegar
1 tbsp honey or brown sugar
½ cup chicken broth
1 tbsp cornstarch
1 tsp ginger powder
½ tsp garlic powder
White pepper to taste

Instructions
  • Cut the chicken into thin, bite-sized strips, sprinkle with salt
  • Trim and string the pea pods
  • Combine the chicken broth and cornstarch to make a slurry
  • Heat your largest frying pan (no woks on a boat!) and add a little canola or peanut oil
  • When the oil is hot, stir fry the chicken till just pink
  • Add the pea pods and stir fry for a few minutes more, till chicken is cooked
  • Meanwhile, combine the soy sauce, vinegar, ginger, garlic, and sugar or honey
  • Add this sauce to the pan and stir fry about a minute, till everything is coated
  • Add about half the cornstarch-broth mixture and stir to coat; keep stirring as sauce thickens—this should only take a minute or so
Time to eat! We like to season with hot chili oil and sprinkle chopped peanuts on top.

Additions/variations
You can add onion slivers, thin-sliced scallions, broccoli florets, red pepper slivers, a can of pre-sliced water chestnuts—whatever you are trying to use up!

Want more recipes?
We sometimes breakfast like the Brooklynites--on avocado toast
And here's a Boat Gourmet Farmer's Market Salad





Posted by Cynthia
at 8/02/2019 03:28:00 PM
0 comments

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

What IS It?


SlowBoat is taking a few "Make and Mend" days (learn what THOSE are here) in Macedon before heading west to Buffalo. Meanwhile, we'll catch you up on our July cruise down Cayuga Lake.

Spotted near the dock at Thirsty Owl Winery.
The July 16th “What IS It?” quiz challenged you to identify a strange structure protruding from the waters of Cayuga Lake (right).

This quiz was a first for SlowBoat--I did not actually know the answer! 

Our friend Steve Merwin, an expert hunter and fisherman,explained that what looks like a fuzzy mailbox is actually a nesting structure for ducks. (THANKS, Steve!) 

It’s designed for mallards and similar “dabbling duck” species. People call these structures "hen houses."

On the prairies of Canada, hen houses are a conservation tool that put nesting ducks out of the reach of predators. Mallards are hardly a species of conservation concern around here, so I assume whoever erected the box just wanted to attract them for easy viewing. Kind of like putting a bird feeder in your backyard.

Among all the answers to this quiz, we had NO correct answers. But I promised a prize for most creative answer, so a tacky postcard will be winging its way to Rachel Kline, for her guess of “mermaid mailbox.”  Well done, Rachel!

Ready for Your Next Challenge?

Check out this odd indentation (left), a regular feature in many (but not all) locks. 

No, it’s not a meditation altar for carp. It's not a  place to leave your soap if you’re bathing in the lock. So, what IS it?

Use this blog's "Comment" function to reply—or just reply on Facebook. You know the drill! 

You know you want to win that tacky postcard and enjoy bragging rights as a “What IS It” champion!

Posted by Cynthia
at 7/30/2019 10:47:00 AM
0 comments

Monday, July 29, 2019

Mind Your (Boat) Manners


Sunday, July 21. After a glorious 10 days in Ithaca, NY, we reluctantly loosed our lines from the Treman Marina dock on and headed north up Cayuga Lake. It was a bracing, sail-boat-y kind of day, with winds from the north throwing miniature white-capped waves in our path.

Rain . . . It's  Nature's Boat-Wash Function

Not too hot, not too cold, not tooooo rainy . . . can't complain!
We overnighted at Frontenac Marina in Union Springs. On Monday, we continued north to the head of the lake under a fine, misty drizzle. After the extreme heat of the previou few days, the rain seemed more refreshing than annoying--nature's free boat-wash feature. I scrambled around on the roof, getting the pollen squeegeed off the solar panels.

At one of the locks on the Cayuga-Seneca canal, the lock tender ambled over for the usual conversation.
“Is that one of them rental boats?
“You bought it? How about that!  So you put them solar panels on yourself?
“Bet it must be real comfortable inside.

  And then . . . 

“What’d that boat cost you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Ummm, Actually, We DO Mind

If you’ve been reading this blog awhile, you know that back when we were newbies to the world of boating, we happened across a slim little blue book called “Chapman’s Boating Etiquette.” 

Written in the 1920s, it's meant for the owners of yachts—good-sized private sailing ships--not us ordinary folks traveling in workmanlike steel-hulled craft.

After the rain, a lovely day. This the section of the Erie Canal that threads through Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge.
So we giggled over rules like “Ladies must stay below decks until 8 AM.” (Because find out why here). But we also embraced a lot of Chapman’s advice. “An oversized flag is a thing of beauty on a boat,” you'll hear us intone as we admire the generous Stars and Stripes floating from our stern.

ALERT! And Now, a Rant from Our Blogger

When we pull up to a dock and get swarmed by gongoozlers, we enjoy the attention, and the chance to spread the good word about solar boating. But lately, we kind of wish that more people were conversant with Chapman's little book.

Lucky for our goozlers, they generally ask the charming
Captain their rude questions, not your cranky blogger.
Now, I'm going to whine, just a little.
  • Please don’t casually prop your foot on our gunnel as you talk to us. 
  • Please don’t lean on our stern canopy. 
  • Please don't whack our steel hull. 
Chapman says! You never touch a boat unless the Captain invites you to.

This one's not in Chapman, but gosh, if I just met you this very second, I wish you wouldn't ask if you can come inside and look around? And take a few pictures? We live here! Would you march up to an interesting-looking house and make the same ask?

These are the most etiquette cluelessness behaviors. But on this year’s trip, I’ve been startled by how frequently someone asks what we paid for our boat. 

It seems a curiously rude question. The fact that we hear it so often suggests some kind of societal shift. 

Blame it on our hyper-unmannerly head of state? Blame it on the internet, where you can look of the price of anything you’re curious about? (Except solar canal boats.) Blame it on social media, where people boast about the deals they get?  But no one seems the slightest bit embarrassed when they ask the money question.

Here's the Answer 

I’ve been composing answers in my head.

Truthful answers like, “There are only two dozen canal boats in North America, and none of them are on the market. So there aren’t really any "comparables" such that you could even SET a price.”

Snotty answers, like, “Gee, it’s hard to say! A 41-foot liveaboard could cost you anywhere from 5K to 5 mil.” 

Or, “Why do you ask?”

But no one ever asks me what the boat asks. Hmmm. They always ask Cap. 

Why, if he had a dollar for every time this trip someone asked him what our boat cost, he could . . . well, OK, he couldn’t buy a new boat. But he could maybe take me out for a nice dinner—where he’d probably tell me to relax and appreciate that people are curious about our boat.

When Cap gets the money question, he always gives the perfect answer. 

He says, gently, “I’d rather not say.”

Then he makes eye contact, smiles in a pleasant and genuine way, and asks the person something about him/herself, to show he appreciates the interest, and that he’s interested back.

“How’s your summer been?” he asked the lock tender. “Have you been busy?”

But if you are still really, really wondering, What DID that boat cost?  I’m going to rear back and TELL you.  

Those Visa commercials said it first. Priceless!


Posted by Cynthia
at 7/29/2019 02:38:00 PM
0 comments

Monday, July 22, 2019

Best Little Marina in Ithaca

Full moon rising over Ithaca. 

Mission: Accomplished!  We successfully navigated Dragonfly all the way down Cayuga Lake to Ithaca, New York. 

It was a trip down memory lane, not just down the lake. Cap and I used to work at Cornell. So we were back on familiar turf.

Ignore Your First Impression

We arrived on a Thursday and docked for a little more than a week at the Allan H. Treman Marine Park.  

At this point in our boating career, we’ve stayed in dozens if not hundreds of marinas, and I have to say, First impression of this marina: not great.

No one answered our radio- and phone-calls, asking guidance on finding our slip. Once we docked, we found out why: the marina office was locked and dark, though it was merely mid-afternoon. Darn! After a hot day on the water we really, really wanted to score the key code that unlocked the marina shower room.

But a friendly fellow boater hooked us up, and after that we started to notice this marina’s many charms.
Treman Marina as seen from the new bike path. Kind of a sweet setting, ain't it?
Are Those Solar Panels . . . ?

For one thing, this is a solar-powered marina! There's a whole big bank of panels in the parking lot. We felt right at home.

I swear I did NOT know this was a solar marina when
I booked our slip!
Speaking of technology, the WiFi was password unprotected, the signal reached all the way to the dock, and the service was reasonably sprightly. 

As someone who's trying to work remotely and also blog, I can tell you with authority, that almost NEVER happens in a marina.

Another unusual feature: the big trees all around the marina basin extended right over our slip, keeping the boat cool. So what if the shade kept the sun off our solar panels? We weren’t going anywhere for a few days.

Break Out the Bikes!

In the time since we've been gone, Ithaca has added a very fine bike path, the Cayuga Waterfront Trail, that made it a cinch to get from the marina into town.

On Thursday we went crazy visiting old favorites. We scored some organic local groceries at the famous GreenStar Co-op. Strolled the Ithaca Commons with its Sagan Planet Walk and cute little galleries.

Browsed the independent bookstores in the DeWitt Mall. (Overhead by the register: “Marge, look at all these bumper stickers. Do you think this is  . . . ummmm . . . a town with a lot of liberals in it?”) And hit the Farmer’s Market for their new (to us) Thursday night scene, with loads of international food booths and live music.

Farmer's Market also reach-able by rowboat. Awesome!
Friday night, freshly showered and swankified, we didn’t even need our bikes to have a fancy night out. 

We walked a mere hundred yards from our boat to the Hangar Theater (yes, located in a former airplane hangar) for a Broadway-quality production of Sondheim’s “Into the Woods.” 

We've docked in cities galore: New York City, Ottawa, Montreal, Atlantic City, Charleston . . . yet never quite so convenient to so many amernities.

Old Friends, Good Times

The best Ithaca treat of all—we got some really excellent hang-out time with dear friends from our Ithaca past. And darling daughter and her hubby showed up, with adorable grandson in tow. See our boat “Visitors” page for more details.
Friends from Freeville: the Merwin-Lee clan and Susan Barnard.
So Why Doesn't EVERYONE Dock Here?

The marina’s seasonal slips are crowded with local sailboats and powerboats, and one comical shantyboat. But Treman Marina doesn’t seem to be a destination for out-of-towners. The transient slips were mostly unoccupied.
Step away from the console, Captain. Your grandson would
like to re-wire it for you.

I wonder why there aren't more boats detouring off the Erie Canal and making the run down to Ithaca. Most boats can make the 80-mile round trip a heck of a lot faster than we can.

Come to think of it, the transient slips DID fill up on Saturday night, with six “cigarette boats” down from Oswego, NY. These snarling big go-fast boats can do 60 or 80 mph without breaking a sweat. So I figured they'd made it down the lake, oh, half an hour.

But . . . these babies burn about a gallon of gas a minute—and you know how much a gallon of gas costs. We later learned these boats had come to Ithaca on trailers. 

It had taken us four days to get down the lake. We had savored the superslow scenic cruise. But now it seemed even sweeter.



Posted by Cynthia
at 7/22/2019 05:42:00 PM
0 comments

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

The Brotherhood of the Boaters Strikes Again

Cayuga Lake cottage: Do you not love the cuteness?

July 9: Sheldrake Point to Lansing

As you know, cuteness is a key quality for the crew of the Dragonfly. And as we continued our trip south on Cayuga Lake, we noticed a trend. The cuteness quotient of lakeside cottages increases with decreased distance to Ithaca. 

Maybe it’s because the cottages closest to town were built first, and turn-of-the century houses have more gingerbread, not to mention darling little boat houses.

After a peaceful float under hot sunny skies, we docked at a marina in Lansing, NY, sliding neatly between two sailboats on the “long dock” that bisects the middle of the marina basin.

I’m Getting a Friendly Feeling

Beautiful day for a cruise!
Like any other business, marinas have varied personalities. Cayuga Lake Marine Services is low-key—family-owned and family oriented. Not fancy, but neat and clean. 

And friendly—the couple across the way strolled by to offer us the use of their car for a grocery run, and also to let us know about their “secret swimming spot” just beyond the marina breakwater and encourage us to come take a dip.


If I Only Had a Piece of Plastic Pipe

Cap had been feeling a bit bereft ever since Seneca Falls. He’d been looking forward to sunset rows in the dinghy, but with a broken oar, this was not to be.

The oar itself is carbon-fiber construction, hollow in cross section at the spot where it had broken. If he could find a properly sized piece of plastic pipe, Cap theorized, he could insert it in one broken end, thread the other end over, glue or tape, and have a functioning oar again.
Our duckling among the swans

Now, he looked hopeful. Sometimes, marinas have ship’s stores, or repair shops, or both. He hustled off down the dock. In less than ten minutes he was back, smiling broadly. 

This marina DID have a repair shop, and the man in charge rummaged around a bit and came up with a piece of plastic plumbing pipe that was the perfect size. 

A few minutes fiddling with the fit, then applying gorilla tape, and the oar was, if not as good as new, at least usable. 

Not only that, but the repair shop foreman waved away Bill’s offer of payment. "Just take it," he said cheerfully.

It’s Great to Be in the Brotherhood

When you’re traveling on a boat, these little moments come thick and fast—times when people are kind to one another, and unexpectedly helpful. 

When we’re approaching a dock, other boaters will almost always step forward and offer to take our lines. (We always try to do the same.) This attitude of mutual support is called “The Brotherhoodof the Boaters.” 

Oh happy day! Rowin' again!
It’s one of the lovely things about boating, to discover that the vast majority of people who share your passion for water-based travel are also considerate and generous. 

Sure, there are oblivious boaters who throw up heavy wakes or play their music loud. But they seem to be the minority.

Kind of renews your faith that people are basically good.

Flush with victory over the broken oar—and also flushed with the 95-degree heat—we threw on our bathing suits and headed over to the secret swimming hole. The lake water was a perfect 78 degrees. 

And our new friends offered us a beer as we dripped our way back up the dock.

Posted by Cynthia
at 7/17/2019 02:19:00 PM
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