December 2001

Hudson River Ice Yachts

 

By John H. Vargo

About the cover

These magnificent ice boats, some as long as 50 feet, have been lovingly kept in the families that own them for years and years. They are usually handed down from father to son. When the hereditary chain breaks they are sold to someone that the rest of the group hopes will maintain the ice yacht as the last owner has. The individuals that own them are all characters in their own right with stories of their own regarding their life experiences and loves...for instance:
Ruben Snodgrass, a test pilot for Grumman Aircraft, was a champion DN iceboater, (modern 12 foot iceboat) but loved his restored big old stern steerer, "Cold Wave" far more than any of his other iceboats. He was the kind of guy that carried a bag with skull and cross bones on it with the words "Born to Kill" on the side. (He was also a B 52 pilot). Drinking flaming vodka after a hard day, grabbing waitresses, who seem to love it from and old codger like him, he died last year at age 82, probably with a smile on his face...just one of many that I have known over the years and would not have missed the experiences for anything.

Reid Belenberg, I remember a 14 year old, walking from the Croton Harmon railroad station one very cold day, 37 years ago, a long stocking cap almost hitting the ground behind him, asking "where are they iceboating?" I picked him up and took him to the south side of Croton Point to meet the clan. (At that time we had a very good relationship with Charley Rabb the Westchester County Parks Commissioner. He would secretly plow out the road leading down through the woods, we would spread the word amongst the group and, not saying a word to anyone until the weekend was over have the time of our lives on Hudson River ice.) One day while there a huge ship went up the channel and made such big waves that the ice actually heaved up and down mimicking the waves underneath. (New black ice is flexible enough to do that.) (I never saw that happen anywhere else but there). Ray Ruge, a character himself,took Reid under his wing, encouraged him and when Ray passed away gave Reid his beloved the last existing big lateen, "Vixen" sternsteerer to Reid. Years later on Orange lake, when we were young and foolish we had a big pot of glug on the stove in the clubhouse, (actually Rays summer home), that got better with each passing hour. Someone decided that the Vixen could beat a Buick and the two went off across the lake. The wind was squally, and the 'Vixen" had a nasty habit of lifting its stern runner off of the ice with the nose digging into the ice. Thus the occupants of the cockpit were always thrown across the ice with the Vixen rounding up, (heading into the wind) trembling as it stood there waiting for the skipper and his silly passenger to try that again...and you know, they always got back on laughing and tried it again.

I have been iceboating since 9 years old and have thousands of memories that I cherish. There is an ice called "Vargo ice" you do not walk on it. Remembering the fantastic times, whether we sailed or not, (many times we would get on the ice and have the wind die) on a frozen surface, whether a lake or river. It does not matter as the comradery of the group, each helping the other, is something to cherish and behold.

The one thing that always got to me was someone saying, "you can't do that!" Either it was to cold, the wind was not going to blow, the authorities, whomever decided to be an authority the day we were going on "their" ice, there was to much snow, a wife or girlfriend decide this was the weekend that you were going to iron your underwear, or whatever, there was always an excuse for those that thought they wanted to go iceboating but when it was ten above zero, had second thoughts.

The cold, crisp air, the brilliant sunshine, exhilaratingly speeds as you sailed over the ice was worth it all. As one character in the 1973 film on American Adventure said, it's better than sex!"

The picture above was taken on the ice at Germantown, New York in 1994 by Glen Burger. The ice in February was 24' thick on the shore and over a foot thick in the channel. We drove the trailers that carried the boats right out on the ice and unloaded them. You could actually walk or sail within 50 feet of the channel. The boats moving up river had to wait until the Eastward or Southward, United States Coast Guard Cutters would get in front of them to break the ice. There was usually two or three freighters or tankers stuck. Most of our weekends that winter were spent standing around, (the wind was never up, however one brilliant sunshiny day a breeze came up and we headed south from Germantown on the "Frost" (the boat in the picture) with at least 6 people on board. We got about 5 miles south of Germantown, working our way around the huge hammocks of ice when the wind died...not a good thing. As we sat there, Reid Belinberg who was sitting on the "Vixen" next to us said," see that little cloud to the west just coming over the Catskills, well that is wind! " Within 5 minutes a breeze came up and with everyone yelling at the top of their lungs we sailed north and home again. That is iceboating!

"I would not have given it up for all the money in the world."

Merry Christmas,

Johnny Vargo