An electric light parade on the Delaware

On the Friday before the August full moon, 22 brave souls got their boats, PFDs* and paddles to West End Beach in Port Jervis, NY by 8 p.m. for what would be, for most of them, the first time navigating the river by the light of the moon.

I’d heard about the first Full Moon Float on one of Dejay Birtch’s weekly “Tuesday Board Meetings.” Dejay owns NeverLost Adventures, in Port Jervis, NY where he fixes bikes, sells gear, and facilitates fun full-time Thursdays through Mondays. Tuesday is his day in the field, where he takes everyone from beginners to professionals out on the water to try, rent, borrow, exchange gear. The past few years, I’ve been lucky to join dozens of his trips on the Delaware and its tributary sisters, the Neversink and the Mongaup. I’ve learned a few things from Dejay, the most important being, when Dejay suggests a trip, it’s probably a good idea. Having paddled at night before (as in with the wife, before we had our three kids, so it’s been awhile), there was no chance I’d miss the Full Moon Float.

I did actually miss the July moon maiden voyage, home sick, but 10 people made the trip. Nothing was going to stop me from making the second one.

The August moon float was a larger affair, a wider net having been cast via social media. Charlie Birtch, Dejay’s dad, had just gotten his trailer finished that day, which was filled with kayaks. Tom Faggione, an avid outdoorsman and Orange County legislator, drove his truck with a few boats and people. More boards were stacked on the roof of Dejay’s van, which was filled inside with people. As soon as the van doors closed, one passenger decided to liberally apply bug spray and almost choke everyone out of the van.

Boats were lit up with portable LEDs, and after a while you got to know who was who by how they lit up their boat. It was like an electric light parade on the river. As we approached our second set of rapids, a train we’ve never seen by day roared by on the Pennsylvania side with headlights ablaze, and the moon began its rise over the Hawk’s Nest.

As far as we know, there was only one capsize event that night, just past Cherry Island. Paddling regular Tom Sauschuck fell out of his kayak (which had his daughter’s keys in it) above the Number 2 train bridge at Sparrowbush. A bunch of us stayed back to look for the lights of a capsized boat. But reality is a slippery beast on the river in the dark, and the thing was, there was no boat.

We realized we were on a wild goose chase when one of us got past the Number 2 bridge, and got word that Kara Sprague – another regular Tuesday paddler – had saved Tom’s boat (and his daughter’s keys)! We were able to shout that information person to person back up the river. Tom was reunited with his boat where the crew regrouped around the halfway point: a sheltered beach just past the famed Elephants Feet landmark, named for the eponymous cliffs that rise from the river’s west bank. It was getting cold and maybe 10 p.m., so from there some people were in more of a rush to get off the river than others. The last stragglers were on shore by midnight.

“Words cannot explain the feeling, visuals and moments that paddling can produce, let alone paddling at night,” said Birtch. “I have always felt like I was a creature of the night and found peace with the animals instead of the people. There’s something about getting people out of their comfort zones... usually leads to them opening up and being more true with themselves and their surroundings.

“I find it inspirational, doing things in an unconventional way, testing limits, gear (yes I’m a gear junky!) and experiencing things in a different way. Knock on the door of the unknown and see how it goes. When does the different become the normal? The quest continues.”

Thanks in no small part to Dejay, the Delaware River – or what the Lenape called Lenape Whittuck, “the rapid stream of the Lenape” – has gotten into my blood since we moved to Matamoras five years ago. Last year, Santa went big and got the kids paddleboards for the holidays. One season in, my 9- and 12-year-old attended Tuesday Board Meetings on their own boards, paddling the three miles from Mongaup to West End Beach. My 6-year-old can ride by himself, however for the moment he prefers to ride with Momma or Papa. With two cars, a family of five can get on the river and back home in just a few hours. (My family took a one-hour river trip yesterday, from Mongaup to Sparrowbush, on a school night.)

The beauty of the paddleboard is its lightness: no pick-up truck, no trailer or even roof racks. Not to mention no plane tickets, lift tickets or hotel stays. The boards deflate into a backpack and the starter paddleboard kit is one-third the price of a kayak.

And did I mention the surfing? River eddies pool around the biggest rocks. If you can get your board turned around, there’s a sweet spot where you can stand in place and ride the wave between where the river flows down, and the eddy’s current goes back up. To repeat, you can surf the Delaware! I’m a balding 49-year-old man with three kids under 13 and 450 farm animals to take care of, and I live nowhere near the ocean. I get to surf the Delaware once a week or so. I feel like the luckiest man in the universe.

Gara is the husband of the editor. *He prefers ‘personal flotation device’ to ‘life jacket’ because it won’t save your life on its own.