“I wanted, this once, to be on the water. I wanted to be close to what Ty had loved, close enough to somehow touch him.” — Sailing into the East River, the scenery is flat and gray and damp from the storm, nothing like what I’d dreamed of when imagining New York City. The captain summons me to the helm. “Manhattan,” he says, pointing to the buildings that have shot up off the starboard side after…