“I take a stroke and lean back, gazing up into the jet skies, bejeweled by the moon and the galaxies of stars. The hull glides in silence and with such perfect balance as to report no motion. I sit up for another stroke, now looking down as the blades ignite swirling pairs of white constellations of phosphorescent plankton. Two opposing heavens. ‘Remember this,’ I think to myself.”
Few people have ever considered the eastern United States to be an island, but when Nat Stone began tracing waterways in his new atlas at the age of ten he discovered that if one had a boat it was possible to use a combination of waterways to travel up the Hudson River, west across the barge canals and the Great Lakes, down the Mississippi River to the Gulf of Mexico, and back up the eastern seaboard. Years later, still fascinated by the idea of the island, Stone read a biography of Howard Blackburn, a nineteenth-century Gloucester fisherman who had attempted to sail the same route a century before. Stone decided he would row rather than sail, and in April 1999 he launched a scull beneath the Brooklyn Bridge to see how far he could get. After ten months and some six thousand miles he arrived back at the Brooklyn Bridge, and continued rowing on to Eastport, Maine.
Retracing Stone’s extraordinary voyage, On the Water is a marvelous portrait of the vibrant cultures inhabiting American shores and the magic of a traveler’s chance encounters. From Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where a rower at the local boathouse bequeaths him a pair of fabled oars, to Vanceburg, Kentucky, where he spends a day fishing with Ed Taylor—a man whose efficient simplicity recalls The Old Man and the Sea —Stone makes his way, stroke by stroke, chatting with tugboat operators and sleeping in his boat under the stars. He listens to the live strains of Dwight Yoakum on the banks of the Ohio while the world’s largest Superman statue guards the nearby town square, and winds his way through the Louisiana bayous, where he befriends Scoober, an old man who reminds him that the happiest people are those who’ve “got nothin’.” He briefly adopts a rowing companion—a kitten—along the west coast of Florida, and finds himself stuck in the tidal mudflats of Georgia. Along the way, he flavors his narrative with local history and lore and records the evolution of what started out as an adventure but became a lifestyle.
An extraordinary literary debut in the lyrical, timeless style of William Least Heat-Moon and Henry David Thoreau, On the Water is a mariner’s tribute to childhood dreams, solitary journeys, and the transformative powers of America’s rivers, lakes, and coastlines.
A great book about a guy who decides to row a scull up the East River, then the Hudson, across the Erie Canal, down the Allegheny, across to the Mississippi, into the Gulf, around Florida to the Atlantic, and all the way up to the easternmost tip of Maine. The best part is when he recounts the kindnesses people do for him on the trip--a good pick-me-up when you're feeling misanthropic.
On the Water is a pleasant little excursion, following Stone's rowboat trip from Manhattan, up the Hudson, down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers to New Orleans. And, then back to up the Eastern Seaboard to the Canadian border.
While taking on a solitary venture, the author did engage with people he met along the way. His descriptions of those encounters show how helpful and interesting folks can be. It was an epic voyage, leading to a pleasant read.
I thoroughly enjoyed Nat's story. I felt like I was with him, living each moment along his journey.
I hope he has, will continue to row. I imagine he has. I felt his love for the journey and of the water through his words. At the end of the story I was sad, not just his voyage reaching its conclusion, but that I don't get to come along.
A nice travelogue with an unusual perspective. While I would not want to take the trip as Nat did, I admire him tremendously for his achievement. Easy to read. Nothing controversial or offensive.
Nicely written memoir of traveling by rowboat from NYC to New Orleans via rivers, then along the coast back up to NY and Canada. Great winter time read!
A fascinating memoir about rowing from the east coast of the US, to the Mississippi. I have read other memoirs of similar maritime travels. This was slower paced but interesting.
It seems that with every travelogue I read the writer is expansive at the beginning, begins to wane mid-way, and skimps toward the end. This one is no exception. It's an engaging and voluminous account of his experiences as he rowed down rivers and lakes from New York City to New Orleans; yet on his return trip via the Atlantic seaboard, only a few short chapters appear. I’m not complaining, just noting; still pondering why. Stone’s intrepid journey is full of river and bayou characters and lore. He’s welcomed into many homes and “humbled by trust.” He’s also existential and philosophical at times: “[What]could my presence here between the dark sky and dark [Ohio] river, alone with a pair of oars in my hands, have to do with any larger purpose?” Overall, this is a well-written account of an inspirational, solitary journey.
Reminded me of "Blue Highways" by William Least Heat-Moon. A guy who challenges himself to leave his life behind for a while and discover the country, at least some large part of it, by taking the slow road, in this case the waterways that interconnect from the Hudson River down the Mississippi, essentially turning the eastern part of the US into an island which Nat Stone was determined to circle by rowboat. Which he did in two trips. I found his narrative thoughtful, calming, and inspiring. He isn't interested in impressing anyone. The pace of covering real distance with nothing but stamina, muscle, adrenaline and peanut butter and crackers in turn offers an intimate view of the land and its people. Great observations, and lovely encounters.
On The Water is a journal by Nat Stone covering a two-phase rowing adventure from New York City, up the Hudson and Erie Canal, a short portage then on to Louisiana via the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. The following year He rowed from Louisiana around the southern tip of Florida, up the east coast back to New York; then on to the northernmost point in Maine.
This is a well written and engaging account of Nat's trip with lots of characters he meets along the way. He has a very positive attitude and is down-to-earth in his descriptions of the trip and his feelings and thoughts along the way. A good, honest book.
This book and author kick ass. The book hit me on so many levels because I see myself in so many of his flaws. When he fails I failed with him, but I wouldn't have been honest enough to put myself out there. My mind would have insisted on counting strokes and timing distances etc. I've carried this book mentally as I backpack and leave steps uncounted. What Natt appreciates in common people, namely uncommon compassion. I look for in others and then strive to. Yes Im guilty of liking this because I see myself in it which is a kind of egomaniacal thing to do, but I also see it as a challenge because it points to my flaws as well.
I read this book at the tail-end of a summer full of discovering my home town bays and beaches by row boat. Truthfully, I didn't read the last few pages for a couple of years because I didn't want Nathaniel's journey to be over. It seemed too much like I would be ending a trip as well--one that I was really enjoying.
On the Water: Discovering America In a Rowboat by Nathaniel Stone (Broadway Books 2003) (917.3). In 1999, the author rowed from New York City down the Mississippi River around the tip of Florida and up the Eastern Seaboard back to New York. He then wrote this book about the trip. My rating: 7/10, finished 2005.
Great travel writing, in which the author circumnavigates the eastern U.S. in a 17-foot boat: from New York to the Erie Canal, overland to the Allegheny, down the Mississippi River and eventually around Florida and up the East Coast. The pace is perfect, the characters and adventures memorable.
If you've ever looked longingly at maps and thought "What if...", then you need to read this chronicle of a childhood fantasy fulfilled: rowing solo all the way around the "island" that is the water-locked eastern half of the United States.
Great memoir about the diverse river culture present throughout the eastern U.S. Love these kinds of self-reflective journeys that remind me so much of long-runs and my desire to explore....eventually.
Which comes first? The adventure or the book? Other people's stories in book form inspired me to go. Writing non-fiction has been a way to document those journeys, to reflect upon and relive them, and to share the experience with and leave it for others. It's a joy to find kindred spirits.
Before Nathanial Stone was an author, he was a dreamer, rower, and map tracer. In his lovely book, On the Water: discovering America in a rowboat, he turns a childhood find into an adult voyage from Brooklyn Bridge, up the Hudson, west across the barge canals (I had no idea the waterways were open to recreational travelers) and the Great Lakes, down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico, then up the Eastern seaboard. Although this circle is complete, he doesn't stop there. He goes further, up to Maine. The impish notion that half the country is an island made me smile and the rest of his story tugged just as gently and compelling at my heart as he rowed and rowed and rowed... meeting people and experiencing places from rare angles, and going deep within himself, in sync whether or not he wanted sometimes, with the water - call it river, stream, lake, waterway, gulf, ocean, whatever others have named it - and his boat.
This book is a beautiful journey and read. It ends with a "grace note," a post-trip 500-mile row, up to New England, downeast Maine, and back to Brooklyn. In that part of the trip, he crosses the path of "hero fisherman" Howard Blackburn, of Gloucester, who inspired Marblehead's Joe Garland to write Lone Voyager. Yet another example and the list goes on....