May 19th. The sweetest, prettiest spring morning that God’s sun ever shone on. The air so cool and fresh, the sunshine so bright and warm. The river narrow and bordered either by big overhanging trees or wide, sweeping meadows freshly green. Mile after mile as through an English land in June. We entered the Delaware and Chesapeake canal where it was still more beautiful with the Scotch broom a glorious yellow and all the other flowers nodding from the banks. The canal itself taking reflection of the mass of foliage was an indescribable, translucent green and all the world was wonderful. There is but one midway lock to this canal, and passing it we were in the basin of Delaware City by one o’clock. A waspish northerly air was blowing down Delaware River and tide was rushing ebb before it, so there was nothing to be done but wait. Wind slacked by night and tide setting fair by six we locked out and accepted our chance by the light of a full moon in cloudless sky. To quietly steal up a big, swiftly running river by moonlight is a grand thing to do, and when the river is full of the busy life of a great port it is mighty impressive from the cockpit of a little boat. Always on my tongue’s end was
“If upon your port is seen
A stranger’s starboard light of green,”
but rules of the road don’t apply as between ocean-going tugs with barges in tow, ocean steamships bound to sea, and 24 foot catboats. Not much they don’t, and it was me for the shadow of the shore and 15 feet of water or maybe less. At eleven o’clock we dropped hook among the yachts off the Corinthian Y. C. of Philadelphia, and after a good welch rarebit turned in more than satisfied with this two days’ trip from Annapolis.
May 20th to 24th. At Philadelphia off Clubhouse of Corinthian Y. C. where we received every courtesy and were made to feel quite at home. The old “square-faced” man at the Club asked me how the launch got so smashed up and when I told him of our experience in the inlet he replied “Dat outside run is tamned dangerous for de sailboats. De motorboats, dey takes one nice, calm days and goes right along, but de sailboats takes one nice calm days and day stays just there and when de next day comes dey gets racked. I have done so twict and I goes no more.” He hits it about right.
May 24th. We took the turn of the flood and with cloudy, squall-breeding skies were off up the Delaware. A good breeze at northwest helped along and we soon worked up through the crowded, busy section of the River off the wharves of the city. Then we came to the big, iron railroad bridge, to go under which at night had scared us so on the way down. It looked just as bad today and as we went at it I thought the mast must surely come out. Then on and on with the river growing more narrow and more beautiful with banks lined with finely kept lawns shaded by beautiful trees. And so with kicker, sail and tide we made the entrance to Delaware and Raritan canals at Bordentown where we locked in and tied up in the basin for the night.
May 25th. Sunday and no business done in the canal. Last night the sky faired clear and bright with a snap to the air almost of frost. I had an old-fashioned night and was up before the dawn. I moved about very quietly and only sang “Palm Branches” once, but it was enough, and H. turned out at five muttering something about wishing he could be in the sticks with coons and wildcats where he could get his rest. That boy seems to have no appreciation of music. A nice, quiet, beautiful day spent alongside the canal slip. Nothing to be mentioned except a picnic held by the mule drivers under a big tree across the canal. They foregathered about 9 a.m. and devoted themselves unreservedly to getting drunk. It was wonderful to see how quickly and how completely they accomplished their purpose. By noon, none of them could stand but they crawled about on hands and knees until four when everybody fell where he was. It began to rain at sundown, but when we turned in at nine we could still hear guttural attempts at song from the shadow of the tree.
May 26th. Were stirring early, but no earlier than the mule drivers who had spent a wet night across the stream. They were on hand with a fresh supply of bottled happiness and when we pulled our freight they were merrily starting in on another picnic. The day came bright and fair with everything looking spick and span after the night’s rain. Have looked forward to a day in this canal in springtime for many a year and was not disappointed. England, the Thames, and June come fairly near to what we saw today. In lots of ways this canal trip was raw and crude in comparison with the Thames, but it had points which seemed to me more beautiful. Thirteen locks and countless drawbridges made the day a busy one and we were ready to turn in early after tying up to a wharf in New Brunswick about seven in the evening. In late afternoon the wind hauled chill, northeast, and rain fell during the night.
May 27th to 28th. Lay New Brunswick in heavy northeaster.
May 29th. Faired away clear and cold northwest during night and this morning felt as brisk and snappy as it did last November, when we got our first ice on deck here. Provisioned up and then locked out of our last canal and started down Raritan River. It was blowing very smartly northwest, just how smartly I didn’t find out until I put single reef mainsail to her. A wooly came over the high shore and things began doing at once. Got the canvas off before we landed in a meadow, but it was close work. Tore a hole in the sail and turned everything upside down below. A glass jar full of roses turned a complete somersault and lit standing on the floor without spilling a drop of water or losing a rose. We tucked in another reef and then had all the rags we wanted. It was cut the pigeon’s wing all the way down the river. At the Perth Amboy drawbridges we had to drop peak for safety sake. When we shot through the second draw it meant the last one on this cruise.