November 2nd. Comes bright and clear with smart reefing breezes from N. W. and a real touch of winter in the air. A little more and we would need our mitties. Turned out 6:30 and while eating breakfast were hailed by a towboat captain to know where our anchors were. We pointed ahead, of course, and it was some time before we caught onto the fact that we were dragging straight across harbor. Felt pretty cheap and unprofessional. Bowsed our anchor and took off some dozen turns of chain. Under way about 9 under two reefs, one of which we shook out at once. Passed through drawer of R. R. bridge, and then through another and were then fairly on our way up Raritan River. The morning’s sail was beautiful, and made the more so by contrast with yesterday. Marshes browning, with haycocks scattered about and the hills across wide stretches. Clouds, sky and smoke from many chimneys all helped out. By 1 o’clock we dropped anchor off the entrance to Delaware and Raritan canal at New Brunswick. We spent the afternoon wandering round streets of New Brunswick, and buying few provisions and getting canal tickets. Curiously we had to pay more for the launch than for the Mascot. This because we use her as towboat. Night came still, clear and snappy cold. To carry out my plans in regard to showing the cities to Henry, we should have started a month earlier. I can see hurry and rush and cold ahead if we delay.
November 3rd. Comes snappy cold. A strong, raw northwest wind made mufflers comfortable. I finished knitting Henry’s muffler last night with Scotty in my lap playing with needles and yarn. Mighty busy all morning stripping davits and lashing poles to main boom besides filling gunny sacks with dry leaves for fenders in the locks. Curious smell in cabin this morning and H. was for beating the cat at once. I counselled moderation, and discovered that Mr. Coot, shot a week ago, had decided not to be parboiled any more. Don’t think H. was sorry to see his carcass floating downstream. Lucky escape for Scotty. Had chicken stew with steamed dumpling for dinner. Everything all right, but the chicken was an old fowl. I parboiled it two hours and cooked it two more, and it was not even to be cut with a sheath knife. Put it by for future use.
November 4th. Comes beautiful but so cold that there was ice in the pans on deck and frost enough for snowballs over everything. Launch engine froze up, but the mechanician soon had it going. Put it on astern with quarter lines and away we went. Couldn’t tell the beauties and delights of the day. Too many for me. Everything worked perfectly. Little launch pushed us 4 miles an hour at her ¾ speed. We hardly heard her way astern, and we just sort of glided by the banks, through beautiful farming country, past towns and villages. Our fenders were perfect and although the flotilla was the devil to turn corners with, we never had any trouble. When night came we snugged up to the left bank along which ran a railroad track. We were at supper when the first train with deafening roar rushed by. H. was watching it, and when it had passed he noticed a little object running towards us on the track. By gum! if it wasn’t Scotty soaked to the skin. She wouldn’t tell us how it happened, but we think she was playing on deck, got frightened and jumped or fell into canal and swam ashore.
November 5th. Comes not so cold, a perfect, still, misty, fall morning. We were away by 9 o’clock ready to enjoy another glorious day and we had it. Reached Trenton at noon and entered our first descending lock. We were careless here and failed to get out a stern line. When the water began to drop we were caught in the current and swept across the lock. H. was quick as scat and saved serious trouble by getting his line out and holding her. Our bowsprit caught as we dropped and we chipped a piece off the end, but no serious harm. From here on it was a busy afternoon with locks and bridges every quarter mile. Just at sunset we tied up to the wharf above the last lock which to-morrow will let us down to the Delaware River. As the tide will not serve in the river until noon, we are looking forward to a quiet morning at the dock.
November 6th. Comes beautifully fair. As tide did not serve in the Delaware River until 1 o’clock we lay in the lock during morning. When it came to locking out, the beasts tacked on another $4.00 to our charge because we were a pleasure boat or something. $6.50 for the Mascot and same for tender. Never get to Florida at that expense rate. No wind all afternoon so we tucked tender aft and away we went for a beautiful boat ride. Night caught us above a big railroad bridge just above Philadelphia. Sometimes I thought the bridge looked high enough to let me under and sometimes I didn’t. The nearer I got the scairder I was, so turned onto east bank to wait until morning. Between one cast of lead and another I went high and dry as usual. Boat bilged and we had supper at the same old angle. Then tide came and with it my courage and I poked the end of my mast up into the big black shadow of that bridge just as a freight train thundered over. Of course we went under all right and so on down to the city and wharves. Barometer falling sharply and I poked into a black dock on east shore and tied up to a barge. Watchman came and said there would be no water at low tide, but we were too tired to mind that and turned in.
November 7th. Came as expected with downpour of rain and old-fashioned southeaster. I made ready for shore in search of an eye doctor, as my right eye had been out of commission for the past week. Got laundry together in big newspaper bundle and was about to start when along comes wharf man and orders us out of our berth, as tug was coming to move barge. Nasty mess. Sheeting rain and blowing hard. Shifted up river off Camden Motor Boat Club where tide runs fiercely. Then I started ashore and by the time I reached an electric all the newspaper had melted off my laundry bundle and I was gathering up the loose and wet ends of shirts, socks and pajamas. People in the car thought I was a joke.
Got hold of a good eye man and spent the afternoon with him. Seems nothing very serious the matter, and he hopes to soon have me going again. Back to boat for supper.
November 8th. Comes in at 2 a.m. with a vicious young gale out of northwest. Things began doing at once. Motor boats at short mooring lines began darting at each other and the old Mascot at the end of 15 fathoms of chain commenced a series of circles in which she managed to hit them all. H. and I shivering in night clothes and bare feet were powerless to stop the merry-go-round and just when things began to snap and crack too plenty, I slipped my cable and ran up river under bare poles and let the motor boats fight it out. We are pretty well in hand by now and after mugging up with coffee and hardtack, were soon sound asleep again by four o’clock. Turned out to listen to some choice language from tow-boat captains for we had anchored plump in fairway. Had to shift just as we had all dolled up for shore. A mighty interesting visit to the Cramp ship yards in p.m. When I slipped cable we buoyed it with our push pole and got it again all right, but in the mixup we tore out the boom crutch deck fittings and smashed a cleat on boom. All non-essentials.