Lower Mobile Bay to the Intracoastal Water Way

  We got an early start on Sunday morning at Dog River Marina. Engine oil was changed on both main engines as well as the generator. My earlier decision to buy two five gallon plastic buckets was a good one. The waste oil all fit in both buckets, plus two one gallon empty oil containers that I had stowed in the engine room. Now, we have the four empty 2.5 gallon empty oil containers to use next time. If we keep buying oil in the 2.5 gallon jugs, we'll just keep trading them off. There are places to keep the empty 2.5 gallon jugs. We've decided to not haul around all of our oil anymore. It's weight we don't need to be carrying; we'll just get our oil when we need it, unless we plan on being somewhere were a trip to a big box store or auto parts is impossible.
  I cleaned the two K&N air filters that fit our Walker AirSeps. The engines rev up fine and appear to be running fine after the oil change. The test will be when we head out and the engines are under load.
  The port engine is still losing a little coolant, to the tune of about two cups of coolant for 400 hours. I don't think I'll lose any sleep over it.
  While I was toiling away changing the oil and such (I also spliced a new thimble into our extra anchor line where I had to cut it), Rosie was finishing up all of the laundry. We both finished our tasks and then took showers and had lunch. There was lots of boats cruising up and down the river as people were enjoying the Labor Day weekend. The boating around here hasn't been too good lately with the hurricane passing through, so boaters were catching up.
  We dropped the dinghy and gathered up Holly and we took a ride. First we went up the Dog River for a few miles and then turned around and went out into Mobile Bay. The ride was a little rough out in the bay in the dinghy, so we headed back in and cruised through a couple of marinas. We saw some very beautiful vessels and some not so much. We wonder why anyone would have a boat that they let just go to ruin from non-use.
  We parked the dinghy back behind Swing Set and grabbed a couple of beers and just sat in our cockpit and watched the boat traffic idle by. I made use of the dock hose to cool off periodically as the heat was stifling. The river where we were docked is a no wake zone and we were right on the channel, a perfect spot for people watching. Nearly everyone waved as they went by; in fact, the boaters waved too when we were out in the dinghy. It was like everybody was spending the first time ever on their boats. One thing though, when we were sitting on the boat, a woman from one of the other boats docked there walked by and as we said hello, she says, "Y'all sure picked a strange time to come south, being hurricane season and all". I was thinking that we were no stranger than all the hundreds of other boaters out buzzing around the area, and the ten of thousands of boaters all through the south. Why can't we join in on the fun?
  At 4 P.M., music started playing at a bar just across the river from us called The River Shack. When we passed by it earlier we could see that they had a long dock out front and a big open air type bar and the band was "outside" more or less. We put Holly away and took the dinghy over to the River Shack.

  Swing Set is docked way in the background just about in the middle of this picture. This is a busy waterway just as you come under the bridge into Dog River.
 

  We had a good seat and the band was playing songs we liked; no wonder, the lead singer had grey hair and most of the band members looked like old hippies. The name of the band was "August" and they seemed to have a good following.
  We had a "so so" dinner, but we had a prime seat next to the view of the water and a nice breeze was cooling us off, and so was the ice cold Bud Lights. Makes me want one now. We were back at the boat before dark and you'd have thought we had been gone for a week the way Holly wiggled and squirmed, trying to lick our faces when we picked her up. We played with her until we all got tired and we went to bed early, anticipating an early morning departure.

 
  We said goodbye to Ricky at the gas dock after a good breakfast and we headed out into Mobile Bay as the sun was just poking out. I took this picture with our iPad and posted it on Facebook. We got some response from folks we never hear from on Facebook and everyone was wishing us well.
  I had plugged in co-ordinates into our Raymarine GPS, and set a route on the Garmin and the Navionics App on the iPad for marker "124" on the intracoastal waterway, about 18 miles down Mobile Bay. We hadn't transited in an open waterway (more or less) in a long time, not since we left Key West and headed back to Marathon about 25 years ago. We were so excited we couldn't see straight. As we were heading to the ship channel, in the channel that leads out from Dog River, a huge tug was heading down the bay in no channel at all and he was coming from our port and was the burdened vessel. We were only doing our usual 8 miles per hour and he was going slower but we were on a collision course. He was bigger, but we had the right of way. Just as I eased off of the throttles to avoid making contact, he threw his engines in reverse and hit his throttles, sending a big plume of black smoke into the morning air. Rosie waved at the captain like we were old friends, but she didn't get a wave back. We weren't in danger, like I said, I backed off first, but I was wondering if he was even paying attention at all.
  We left the ship channel and were on our own. The bay was very calm for the first hour or so, but the wind was coming from the west and was on our starboard beam and the ride got a little bumpy for the second hour. I switched our waypoint so we would hit the intracoastal closer to land. It was about then that we saw our first porpoise on this trip. We wound up seeing about four of them and we acted like little kids when we would spot one. The tide was coming in and the water was clearing up and I thought we would see more porpoises, but once we hit the intracoastal channel, we didn't see any more of them, but I know we will.
  We had purchased a Waterway Guide at West Marine and we were making good use of it. We were finding places in it that our friends had been recommending that we go to and we made a plan to go to Lulu's for lunch, and we found a good anchorage about ten miles east of Lulu's where we could spend the night on the hook. Our budget doesn't allow too many restaurant visits, or stays at marinas, but Lulu's is owned by Jimmy Buffet's sister and is a must stop for anyone traveling the intracoastal waterway.

  We docked the boat and got a table right at 11:30 and were there for about an hour. By the time we left there was a line to get in. The place is huge and was a lot of fun. We liked the food too, but we stuffed ourselves. Rosie got a chicken wrap and I got a cheeseburger made just the way Jimmy Buffet likes his. Tacky Jacks is a gigantic restaurant across the waterway that we passed on our way out. It too, had been recommended, but we make a habit of only eating lunch once per day. Maybe some other time.
  We went next door to the marina to see if they had an anchor, but they sold fuel and "snacks and such" according to the proprietor we met in the parking lot. Diesel was 60 cents a gallon higher than at Dog River Marina, so we're glad we didn't wait to get fuel there.
  It was hot and sticky as we traveled east on the waterway, checking our charts for the anchorage we were looking for. We made a hard left at marker "72" and pointed north into Ingram Bayou. Several boats were already at anchor and other boaters were enjoying the day. We pointed the bow into a nice breeze and set the hook and opened the hatches. There is a pleasant breeze blowing through the cabin and we won't even need to put on the air later. I took a dip to check the running gear to confirm any suspicion about picking up a rope or something, and found nothing, but had to do my first salt water rinse off in the shower. River bath days are over.
  After a short nap, Rosie is reading and I'm doing this. Several boats have passed us and headed around a corner to a popular local anchorage. Typically we would join them but it has been a long day and we are fine with chilling out here by ourselves. This may be the first Labor Day we haven't spent with our other boating friends in many, many years and is a little bittersweet. We miss our friends occasionally, but still feel like they are with us when we can communicate by phone or the computer. We're getting lots of encouragement on our endeavor and it means a lot to us.
  Now it's time to wrap this up and get ready to fire up the grill. We're making pork steaks tonight and celebrating our first night in years in salt water. We plan on having many more.

Last Lock on the Tenn-Tom To Mobile Bay

  After three wet and soggy days sitting above the Coffeeville Lock and Dam we were ready to get out of there last Friday morning. Isaac didn't bother us too bad but we didn't sleep as well as we would have liked due to the boat swinging around at anchor in several directions. If I had any doubts about whether our anchors were going to hold, I found out that those fears were unjustified when we went to pull up our two anchors before we left.
  I let out the bow anchor line until I could get over the top of our stern anchor and by pulling straight up on it, the anchor wouldn't budge. I have my physical health to consider, so not much pulling by hand was going to be tolerated by my back, so I lashed the stern anchor line around the rear quarter cleat and fired up the Cats. We may as well have been tied to the Titantic; the anchor was not going to bust loose. I stowed away the bow anchor and made ready to give a try at seriously yanking our small stern anchor free. Rosie stood watch from the swim platform and I put both engines in gear but not much throttle. Rosie made a noise... I'm not sure what kind of noise it was, but at the time it sounded like a "better stop what you're doing" noise. The anchor line had gotten wedged under the end cap on our swim platform rub rail and popped it right off. Let's see, end cap to a rub rail....no big deal, right? Well, I know people running around with missing end caps on their rub rails because the piece is out of production and they can't find a replacement. To make things more interesting for us is that the rub rail on our swim platform was custom made by cutting down a factory rub rail and making it fit, and the end cap was too. While I was contemplating what I was going to have to do to replace the rub rail end cap, I was also pondering just how dispensable our stuck stern anchor was. I gave it about a minutes' thought and grabbed my dive knife and cut that sucker loose. The anchor now is living with the giant log or barge cable it was hooked to.
  We already had called the Coffeeville Lock and as we pulled around the corner to approach the lock chamber, an upbound tow was just pulling out of the lock. We let him pass and the lockmaster called us right in. It was a quick ride down and out we went. When we saw the spillway of the dam and realized we sat just above it for a week without going over it in the dead of night, we figured loosing one itty bitty old anchor was no big deal.
  We had 116 miles to make before hitting Mobile Bay and we knew we weren't going to do it in one day, so we began to consider our options and settled on three main ones. It's our typical plan for any given day if we are traveling; if we don't like the first anchorage we come to, we know we have a couple of back up plans. If option three is not the best, we make it do. As we were making our way down the river, I kept an eye on the weather radar. There was thunderstorms to both the east and the west of us, but all day there was a slim break in the rain and cloud cover and it stayed right above us. I felt like Moses in a way. To be fair, I also felt like Barney Fife, but that has no bearing on this story.
  We passed a trawler with some guys on it that we had met at Bobby's Fish Camp and I asked where they were headed. They were headed back to Turner Marina which is up the Dog River off of Mobile Bay. I asked them a couple of questions about their marina and then called the marina myself. Transient dockage is only 56 cents a foot if you are a Boat U.S. member and they had courtesy cars too. A West Marine is right next door at Dog River Marina, so we decided to fuel up at Dog River Marina and stay at Turner Marina, spreading the wealth, so to speak. First on the agenda, though, was finding an anchorage for the night.
  We didn't like the first option; for one reason it was still too early when we got there, plus there was a public ramp up the creek it was in which insured a steady stream of fishing boats passing us throughout the evening. We were approaching a cut-off over to the Alabama River when a bird landed on the boat.

  Gull or Tern, I know not what, but it sat on our fenders until we pulled up into the Alabama River cut-off and Rosie had to go forward to unhook the anchor stay and it flew away, over 35 minutes after it landed on the boat. Not a bad way to travel.

  We had around 15 feet of water well into this narrow channel and we dropped the hook. A stern anchor was going to be necessary to keep us out from under the trees, so I used the little anchor we keep in the dinghy and it held fine. We have another big fluke anchor we keep on the bow, you can see it in the picture, but it's very heavy and we'll only use it in an emergency, or in shallow water where I can retrieve it easily.
  We sat in the cockpit and had a few happy hour beers and watched our friends in the trawler go by as well as two tow boats we had passed earlier. Rosie kept the binoculars glued to her eye sockets in order to scour the bank in search of alligators. I thought it was funny, but after seeing the two gators on Thursday night, my river bath was completed with as little time actually spent in the water as I could possibly make do with.
  I tried a little fishing, but nothing was happening. After a long day at the helm we turned in early and had one of the calmest nights we've had for a few days.
  We intended to get an early start in the morning but woke up to heavy fog. By the time we were finished with breakfast at 8:30, the fog was gone and we got under way.

  The topography was changing and we had constant reminders that we weren't on Tellico Lake anymore. There were some neat looking Cajun Cabins but they were few and far between. This one had seen better days.
  We started passing one towboat after another on a narrow and twisty river, but all the captains were accommodating and we started getting excited about getting to the bay. It was during the passing of one of the tows when I found out that Swing Set wouldn't run over 1600 R.P.M's, even at full throttle. When we got a chance, Rosie took the helm and I checked the vacuum on the Racors and they were fine. The exhaust was smoking, which is very unusual, and that means the Walker Airseps aren't doing their job. One reason for this, and one we've run into it before, is that the air filters are dirty and we're starving the engines for air at the higher R.P.M.s. Considering we've put over 400 hours on the engines since I cleaned the air filters last, it's a good guess that our problem is the air filters. We shall see.

  We passed the marshlands on each side of the river and came upon heavy industry on both sides of the river and our first view of Mobile. The water was a dark muddy brown, looked like coffee. Shipyards and docks lined each side of the river and we had to keep a sharp eye out for floating debris.

  These are two of the cool Navy ships we saw at a shipyard as we cruised down the Mobile Port. We could see open water ahead of us and I swear I was feeling not only some excitement about the open water, but some anxiety as well. We started seeing buoys and channel markers the likes we hadn't seen in nearly 25 years since we took a boat to Key West from Jacksonville. Luckily, a large convertible sport fishing boat pulled out of the tug turnaround just as you leave the port and started down the ship channel ahead of us so we followed it.

  It didn't take too long for us to figure out what was what. Everything boiled down to green and red like it always does and the rest was easy. Our main mission was to avoid the ships coming up the channel and there was still a fair amount of big debris in the water. These ships passed us within a 100 feet or so but put out less wake than a boat our size, at least at the speeds they were traveling at.
  Our Navionics App on our iPad took us right to the cut-off to the Dog River and we made a hard right. The secondary channel takes you back upstream and makes couple of jogs before entering the Dog River. Turner Marina is on the right as you pass under the bridge but we kept on to the next marina which is Dog River Marina where we planned on fueling up. Turner Marina doesn't have fuel and they direct everyone over to Dog River for it.
  Fuel was relatively cheap at Dog River Marina at $3.89 per gallon. I asked about transient rates and was told it was $1.00 per foot per night. That's not bad, but it wasn't 56 cents a foot either.
  I called Kat back over at Turner Marina and asked if they still had a spot for us. They did, but when I inquired about a courtesy car, I was told that they were closing in 15 minutes and no one would be there for the rest of the weekend to provide a courtesy car or anything else. That's a funny way to do business on a holiday weekend, especially at a marina, so we plunked down our money and made plans to stay at Dog River for the night.
  West Marine was closing at 5 P.M. so we left Swing Set at the gas dock and walked over to get another anchor, some flares, and a guidebook and charts for Florida. We had gotten a gift certificate from Gary and Judy at our bon voyage party and we got to use it today. We left with everything we needed except for the anchor. The size we need to fit the chocks on the deck was out of stock. It was out of stock at the other two stores in the area as well. Not to worry, that size anchor is common and someone will have it.
  We walked back to the fuel dock and got help moving Swing Set over to our dock for the night. We plugged in the power cords and turned on the air conditioning. We left Holly to watch the boat and we went into the office to arrange for a courtesy car. In the course of conversation, it was learned that we belong to the American Great Looper Cruiser's Association and Dog River gives "Loopers" the first night free. $41.35 cents was given back to us along with the keys to a big Ford truck for us to drive to the closest store to re-provision. Walmart again. We made a lightening fast trip through the store and got back to the boat and unloaded our stuff. The other marinas in the area had party's gearing up and music could be heard, but we had things to do and we learned long ago that you can't party everyday.
  I opened the hatches in the salon to the engine room and the heat billowed up from the still hot Cats. I pulled off the K&N filter elements and got them soaking in a big bucket of Oxy-Clean. I want them to soak overnight, and then they have to be hosed off and dried. We discussed what needed to be accomplished in the morning and felt like we'd be rushed to get things done and still leave at a decent time Sunday morning, so we decided to stay here another day. This will give us a chance to get all of the laundry done, get the air filters dry and oiled up, and get the oil changed in all three engines because they are just about due and this is a good place to do it. By late afternoon we should have our chores done and we'll jump in the dinghy and see what there is to see around here for entertainment on this wonderful Labor Day weekend.

A Long Week On the Hook

  On Tuesday the 28th, after preparing as much as we felt we had to, soon to be Hurricane Isaac made his appearance here where we were in Alabama, but the most important thing for us was that Isaac was kind enough to make landfall two states away. The first wave produced some respectable wind but it only lasted about ten minutes. After that we had rain off and on for three days but only mild winds.
  We had two anchors out and they both held very well. Sticking them in a few days early helped them settle in to hold us adequately.

  The skies were ominous on Wednesday morning and we were expecting more wind, but it never materialized. We just had more rain and we stayed inside and read our books and played Scrabble and dominoes. Plus we ate good like always.
  Wednesday night was the worst though; there were tornado watches and warnings and the wind was substantial. The anchors were holding but the wind was coming from the one quadrant that brought us closer to the trees than anywhere else. We kept a close eye on things all night and sleep was sporadic.
  Isaac was far enough into the state of Louisiana to allow us to start heading south on Thursday morning, but we enjoyed ourselves so much at Bobby's Fish Camp last Saturday we decided we wanted to go there one last time and Thursday night was going to be the time as they are only open from Thursday to Sunday.
  It was a good thing we stayed around because tornadoes were around us all day on Thursday. We called Lora Jane on Thursday morning and asked if someone could pick us up a loaf of sandwich bread that we could pick up at dinner. She said there would be no problem and asked if there was anything else we needed.
  We dropped the dinghy in the water in between thunderstorms late in the afternoon and motored up to Bobby's. When we got closer, we saw four boats tied to the dock, one of them being the large houseboat that was there last Saturday. It turns out that they have been waiting all week the same as us, but can't leave because they will need fuel when they get to the coast and everybody down there is under water. They are headed for Morgan City which is to the west past New Orleans and cannot take advantage of the marinas that are functional to the east like we will be able to do. They hold less than 200 gallons on their 85 foot houseboat so range is an issue.
  Rosie headed for the dumpster with our two trash bags and went in to get a table and I stayed at the dock to fill our two water jugs. The fella in the houseboat had use of the water hose and as we were unhooking it so I could use it, he spied a ten foot alligator on the opposite shore. I took a picture of it but didn't include it here because it just looks like a log. Believe me, it was a gator unless logs can swim in circles.

  Rosie and I had a good dinner of fresh catfish again and we availed ourselves of several cold Bud Lights too. Somebody please tell Bill Kelly that you saw the RiverBills.com sticker on the wall at Bobby's Fish Camp here on our blog. It's right there to the left of Rosie's head.      
  We sat around after our dinner was but a memory and talked to the waitress and Lora Jane until our loaf of bread showed up. They weren't even going to charge us for the bread but I insisted, a business like theirs cannot afford to be giving stuff away. I know we could have added to their coffers by staying at the dock and paying $1.50 per foot per night, but we have to survive too. We threw some money their way but didn't go crazy about it. We didn't have as much fun as when Harry and Linda came to see us last Saturday but it was a nice change after spending all week by ourselves.
  We said goodbye to the folks in the houseboat and headed back to Swing Set in the dinghy. We cruised near to the bank on our way back and saw another alligator. When we got close, it thrashed into the water so we knew it wasn't a log or our imagination. After seeing the gator, Rosie had a new respect for getting into the water. In other words, she may never get in the water again.
  Unless there is whitecaps on the river in the morning, we are going to lock through and take two days to get to the gulf coast. Water should be receded by then. I know this; there is going to be flooding on this river in the next few days and I want to be off of it, high water on the coast or not.
  We are sorry for the people over in Louisiana who felt the brunt of Isaac, but of course we are happy things were not worse here. I shouldn't speak too early because the there are still dark clouds streaming through the sky as I write this blog, but I think we are going to luck out.
  Like I've always said, "I'd rather be lucky than good".
  Have a good holiday weekend and "be safe".

Still Waiting on Isaac

  Just an update on our current situation: We've gotten lots of well meaning advice from many friends concerned about us with soon to be Hurricane Isaac breathing down our necks. The forecast for Isaac keeps getting better for us and we are keeping a watch on each update from the National Weather Service and other weather applications that we have.
  The first advice which was to "stay put" has been the best so far. Thank you Greg and Mike. We are in an open area (not too open) where the boat can swing in a circle, essential because the wind will be shifting direction as the storm passes. There are creeks in the area that would provide wind protection, but not only are they narrow, the trees would interfere with our wind generators. The most important thing is that flash flood warnings have been issued for Choctaw County which is where we are. You don't want to be anchored in a creek during a flash flood.
  We also considered our quality of life while we have been waiting, which will most likely turn out to be a week or more. We are away from the bank where we would have a better chance to avoid snakes and alligators. Today looks like it may be the first day we won't be out on a raft enjoying the water.
  We also are not in the narrow channel of the Tenn-Tom where we would need to put out a stern anchor to keep from swinging into the path of traffic on the river. High wind and waves to the stern of our boat may sink it, not a good idea to prevent the boat from swinging with her bow into the wind.
  We could have high tailed it back to Demopolis, an attractive idea since we had so much fun there, but it's 90 miles north of here, a 180 mile round trip and still not too many open anchorages up there either. Where we anchored on the trip down in Foscue Creek would be good but  I like the idea of avoiding man made objects during high wind, and it's still a creek. We've seen enough peeled off metal roofs on docks along our trip to know that sheet metal is just one of the items that can become missiles when the wind kicks up. We are going to have 24-25 mile per hour winds today, we are accustomed to more, but if we don't feel safe, we'll still head upriver. It's a plan B.
  One friend advised to lock through and suggested an anchorage about ten miles down the river, but for the reasons stated above, locking through is out of the question, it eliminates too many options. I don't think storm surge would be an issue this far north, but tide would be. We can eliminate of factor in the equation by staying above the lock and dam.
  Another well intentioned email from a new friend suggested that we leave our boat somewhere and we could be evacuated by them. I think this suggestion was bent more toward the prospect of a good party than it was for our safety. Dave, you are a nut.
  Really though, anyone who knows us from our Meramec River days also knows that we'll stay with the ship, but really don't think we'll have to go down with it. Had Isaac kept to the original track that it was predicting a couple of days ago, we probably would have made our way back up the river. But now the track is predicted to go further north than St. Louis. Are we to beat feet back up the river to Iowa to get out of the way?
  This will be our first experience with a hurricane, and there will be many more to come. If I am posting something on Friday morning, you'll know we came out OK.

Waiting Out Hurricane Isaac On Coffeeville Lake

  It looks like we're going to be here for a week or so. We started watching Tropical Storm Isaac as soon as we got the notice from NOAA via an email. This type of travel is a good reason to sign up and get the updates on storms. You can do this from the Boat U.S. website or straight from the NOAA website.
  There is no point in tempting fate by going further south. We are 116 miles north of Mobile Bay and under current predictions, should experience nothing greater than 30 mile per hour winds by next Thursday, the 30th of August, and to be safe all we have to do is stay put. Seems like a no brainer to us.

  From our "front porch" we can watch the river traffic go by and we are well off of the channel with plenty of room to swing at one anchor, although we did deploy another bow anchor, Bahamian style, to let the new anchor settle in to the river bottom to provide better hold when the wind kicks up. We are literally hundreds of feet from the Coffeeville Lock entrance but shielded from their lights by an island that divides the lock from the dam. We keep our radio tuned to both channel 16 during the day as well as the lock's working channel, which is 14.

  We took a dinghy ride on Friday, the day after we got here, and went back upstream to take a first hand look at two anchorages that we took a pass on, looking too narrow or shallow to get Swing Set into. Turkey Creek was our first stop and even in the dinghy it was narrow. The overhanging trees would have been playing havoc with the blades on our wind generators, plus I'd prefer to not have the prospect of critters dropping down from tree limbs while we're on the boat, thank you very much. We explored up into the creek for about a mile, keeping a sharp eye out for alligators which are supposed to be around here but we didn't see any. Another three miles up the river is Okatuppa Creek which was much wider at the mouth, and in a pinch we could have poked our bow in there for a stay, but I'd rather have some room if the wind picks up. Both creeks are in the Choctow Nature Reserve and we saw vegetation neither one of us has never seen before. I couldn't even fathom getting into the water in either one of these creeks. Let's just say that you're not talking to Johnny Weissmuller here.
  We cruised back by Bobby's Fish Camp and we tied up to the dock to top off the fuel tank in the dinghy. I couldn't roust anyone from the intercom at the gas pump, so I left Rosie and Holly in the boat and walked up to the restaurant/office/store and walked in. It was like entering a time warp where nothing had changed for about 50 years. The restaurant was closed but I figured someone would be around for me to ask about getting a few gallons of gas. While I waited I looked around at all the neat stuff on the walls and read a bunch of the many signs and notes posted about. When you deal with a wide variety of the public, you tend to make up the rules as the need for them come up. After reading some of the posts, it's fun to wonder just what transpired to make the proprietor issue a new edict and post it on the wall. I rang a bell over the counter, which by the way, held a variety of things a person could purchase if so inclined, included several alligator heads, minus the good eating parts. I started to wonder if they served alligator tail in the restaurant. I've had it before and yes, it does taste like chicken.
  I knew that Bobby had died a couple of years ago and his daughter Lora Jane was running the business now. There were pictures posted about depicting both of them, so I'd began to think I would know her if she came out from somewhere, but no one appeared and I didn't have my phone to call. I had already made up my mind that we were coming back to have dinner there on Saturday for Rosie's birthday. The place had just the appeal that promised a memorable time.
  On Saturday morning, even though it was Rosie's birthday, she insisted on doing her morning routine of mopping down the boat. I chipped in and washed the dinghy and scrubbed the scum from around the waterline of Swing Set. I must say that we are keeping Swing Set looking cleaner than she ever has, something we intend to keep up. We wonder how people let their boats get so dirty, especially if they are living on them. We both are attracted to clean, shiny fiberglass like some people are attracted to gold or diamonds, neither one of which we have much use for.
  At lunch time I was checking our messages and we had gotten one from some friends from St. Louis who happened to be in Pensacola visiting some friends of theirs. We knew Harry and Linda Steele from the Duck Club Yacht Club were they lived on a 55 foot houseboat and were Harry did a stint as harbormaster for several years. They had since moved off of the boat and are now vagabonds, traveling around where they want and looking for potential places to perhaps move to, or buy a second home. Linda mentioned stopping by to see us on their way back to St. Louis, and I started looking at the map, curious to see how our location was on the way to anywhere. My first thought was that they may not really have an idea just how remote this spot in Alabama is, and I told Rosie to call Linda and tell her that as much as it would be fun to see them both, that we thought it would be too much trouble for them to come by here, requiring them to find Bobby's Fish Camp for us to meet there. After finishing lunch, we lounged around on our rafts and let Holly swim, keeping a sharp eye on her as she would be considered prime alligator food. The whole time, it nagged at me that we may have given Harry and Linda the idea that we didn't want to see them, but nothing could have been further from the truth.

  We got ourselves cleaned up and left Holly in charge of the boat and arrived at Bobby's Fish Camp by 5 P.M. Little did we know that we would celebrate Rosie's fifty fourth birthday at such an interesting place. We went in and Rosie grabbed a table as the place was filling up quick. I arranged to have the gas pump at the dock turned on and went back down to the fuel dock to fill up the tank on the dinghy and to get some water in one of our water jugs that we brought along with us. I was told that the water faucet was "down by the tree" and it took me a good bit of time to find the right tree. I had to use my keen detective skills to follow the white hose coiled up on the fuel dock over to the bank where I eventually found a tiny faucet about two inches from the ground, wrapped in insulation to prevent freezing in the apparently harsh southern Alabama winters.
  By the time I had gotten the water and the fuel, another boat had pulled up and was wanting fuel. Lora Jane, the proprietor of Bobby's, had come down to the dock and we introduced ourselves and both agreed that it was unbearably hot for us to be out. Besides right there at the fuel pump, the dock was already taken up by a huge houseboat and a sailboat, but both were spending the night and I parked the dinghy between them, with Lora Jane's approval, of course.
  I walked back up to the restaurant and was soaked with sweat, my hair wringing wet. The air conditioning in the restaurant was a welcome relief and I found Rosie already hard at work on a ice cold can of Bud Light. "You can just grab a can there from the cooler", Rosie said. "They just count 'em up when we go to pay". Perfect. I joined Rosie and perused the menu. Catfish is the specialty, and all around me I saw folks with big platters of fried fish, hush puppies and french fries piled in front of them. "When in Rome", so we both ordered catfish fillets and grabbed another beer.

  I asked a patron walking by to take our picture and he kindly obliged. That little girl behind Rosie sat and watched us knock down beers while she quietly played with some Lincoln Logs. She probably thought we were strange.

  While we waited for our food to come, "and don't get in a hurry", Rosie took her turn to look around. See the alligator heads stacked on the counter on her left? I asked our waitress if we couldn't get a couple of warm cases of Bud Light to go when we left and she said we could, but first she had to go see if they had them. Things were working out all right.
  Rosie sat back down and our empty beer cans were piling up when our food came out on an aluminum platter, piled high with fish. I want everyone to listen, and listen good: I've had catfish at a lot of places on the Mississippi River on the Alton Pool; Kinders, the Fin Inn, O'Jan's, and the Loading Dock, being a small list. I have never  had catfish that tasted this good, anywhere. Period. The fillets tasted more like crappie than catfish. Rosie agreed and we dug in.
  We were slowing down on our feast when I looked up and who did I see but Harry and Linda Steele walking in to join us on Rosie's birthday! We couldn't believe it, not for a minute. They had used Mapquest to get them near, but then had to rely on people they had stopped to ask, to find Bobby's. I noticed that it was 7:10 on a clock over the door when they sat down. After ordering their dinner, they began to tell how they had left Pensacola around 3 P.M. and set out to find us. We laughed when Linda told us how she had mentioned to Harry that Rosie didn't sound too encouraging on the phone, but Harry was undaunted and set a course for Coffeeville anyway.
  The best part was when they pulled into a gas station and two police cars were pulled in there too, sitting side by side with doors open. Harry asked a fella sitting in one of the passenger seats which way was it to Bobby's Fish Camp and the guy got out and started pointing out directions, motioning with his arms in the direction in which they were to go. They heard one of the officers say, "Sir, I need to remind you that you are under arrest and need to get back in the car." The fella kindly giving the directions to Bobby's reluctantly got back in the car and Harry and Linda peeled off down the highway.
  Feeling lost again, they stopped in front of what looked like a bar. A patron was getting out of his four wheeler to go inside this block building with beer signs and bars on the windows and Harry asked him if we knew where Bobby's was. "Why sure, I know where that is", and then he proceeded to direct them to what Harry described as a road "that about knocked the springs out from under the car". All this to come and see us out in the middle of nowhere. When Harry took a break and went to use the restroom, Rosie started crying, and so did I, at the thought of anyone taking that much trouble to come and see us. Life is grand.

  The clock said 7:10 when Harry and Linda's food came and I went over to the cooler to grab some more beers. The empties on our table were stacking up like bowling pins. A new set of diners at the table across from us and near the beer cooler each had tall ice teas in front of them and gave me a look like I was fixing to burn in hell right before their eyes. I said "howdy" and carried an armful of beers back to our table. Harry and Linda got us caught up with their travels and plans and we were enjoying the stories. Harry is retired Navy and always has a good story to tell. It felt like it was getting late but the clock over the door said it was only 7:10. That's when I figured out the clock was broke and had been for some time, at least since 7:10, on some date in the past. What's tragic about this is that I wear a wrist watch.
  It was really only 8:30 but the restaurant closes at 9 P.M. Harry and Linda were going to get on down the road and find a motel, opting not to stay at one of the cabins there at the camp. They figured it was early and they could use the time left in the evening to roll up some miles. We all hugged goodbye and went our own ways; Harry and Linda to the car and us to the dinghy, carrying the spoils from our visit: lots of leftover catfish and two cases of Bud Light for us to enjoy this week while we wait out Hurricane Isaac. We buzzed back in the cool night, dodging big islands of water plants that dot the waterway.
  Holly was overjoyed to see us. We'd been gone for over five hours and Rosie got her fill of "kisses" from our dog. Yes, as one of our friends recently said, we have become one of those people. Rosie and I sat up and talked about what a great evening it turned out to be. Isn't it wonderful when you don't expect much, but things turn out so well? Rosie was treated to one of the best birthdays that she will remember for years to come. And there was no singing.
  We'll be sitting here on Coffeeville Lake for the next five days or so. I doubt that I'll have much to post, so don't expect much unless something unusual happens. If we are here next Thursday night, we'll go back to Bobby's for dinner again. They're open from Thursday to Sunday now and we wouldn't mind getting some more catfish to take with us as we get back on down the river to Mobile Bay. Until then, we'll just be sittin' back enjoying life.

Demopolis Yacht Basin

  We spent a whole day in the Cochrane Cut-off. The river was calm in the anchorage there and we only say two barges and one jon boat. The two annoying things were that the crickets and cicadas were in a vocal mood and serenaded us the whole time. I am a firm believer that if the insects would all get together with a plan, they could drive us all nuts. All they need is organization. There was also an airport nearby and planes did stunt maneuvers all day. It would have been fun to watch, but we couldn't see any planes due to the trees and clouds, just heard the constant roar of their engines.

  Swing Set got a good bath, in and out, from Rosie, and my contribution to our floating society was a little Lexan bracket that I pop riveted to the radar screen cover so I can hold one of the guides we are using. A pop rivet tool is a good thing to have on the boat, along with a drill, sander, soldering iron, Dremel tool and jig-saw. This is the short list.
  We left our anchorage at around 9 A.M. on Wednesday and had a pretty long travel day, arriving at the Demopolis Yacht Basin at almost 5 P.M. Diesel fuel was $3.59 per gallon and we took on 133 gallons. We didn't need it, but I won't pass on fuel that cheap. We filled up our water tank too, and dumped our trash.
  I talked to the fuel barge attendant at length, along with the captain of one of the tow boats fueling up at the dock there. The tow boat was taking on 10,000 gallons. Can you imagine?
I asked about the restaurant there at the marina and was told that the food was pretty good. Sounded like a right fitting endorsement to me. The place didn't look fancy and that is right up our alley.

  The New Orleans Bar and Grill seemed like the perfect place to end our day and get a nice cold beer in some air conditioning, so we both took quick showers, left Holly on the boat tied to the fuel dock, and walked up to the restaurant.
  We took a seat at a booth, ignoring my rule about meeting more people at the bar than anywhere, but after making a quick survey of the scene, I asked Rosie if she wouldn't rather sit at the bar. I'm not sure if the nice waitress minded, but we told her that we'd rather have a seat at the bar where two fellas were there and gave us a friendly hello.
  First things first were two Bud Lights at Happy Hour prices, and then Rosie ordered Southwest Chicken and Shrimp. Shrimp and Grits was the special, so I had to try them since I liked them so much at the Docks at Goose Pond. Our bartender, Lane, kept us supplied with cold beers and she was fun to chat with too.

  I took this picture of Swing Set sitting at the fuel dock before the camera battery went dead again. Demopolis Yacht Basin is right on the river and is the perfect fuel stop, and we were about to find out how nice the folks we met in the restaurant were also.
  Lane found out we were in need of a couple of cases of Bud Light and offered to have her mother pick some up for us as she was about to arrive at the bar with some ice cream so Lane could make some specialty shots, the name of which I have already forgotten. We declined her offer about the same time one of the regulars came in and joined us and the other two fellas. We quickly met Tom; his family has lived in Demopolis for five generations and have a business there which he still runs with his 82 year old dad. Tom was trading conversations with us and the other two regulars at the bar when they started talking about college football, and since they found out we were from St. Louis, they admitted as to how they liked the idea that Mizzou was now in their conference, the SEC.
  The older man at the bar, Mr. Ed, asked me how big Missouri was. I had lost the thread of the conversation and I thought he meant how big in size Missouri was. I had just enough beers to answer that on the last map I looked at, it was about "this big" and drew my fingers in a fine circle. Then I added that, "but on one map, it was this tiny", pulling just my thumb and forefinger into a smaller shape. Luckily they found my smart ass amusing, but then proceeded to ask how far was it from St. Louis to Kansas City. I quickly responded that it was 256 miles. Mr. Ed answered that he thought is was much further than that, but I shot back that maybe it was a lot further when all they had was wagon trails to take a person from one side of the state to another, but we have an interstate highway now. We were all laughing at that one and then Mr. Ed came down and introduced himself properly and said it was certainly a pleasure meeting us.

  That's Tom on the left, then Lane. I don't know the other bums. We were likely to not get out of the place; Lane supplied us with a free shot of her specialty drink for the night, and Tom bought us a round of beers. If it wasn't for Tom having to leave to go pick up his daughter, we might be there still. Lanes mom had to take the picture because our camera shot craps. Lane emailed the picture right on the spot so I could use it here.
  We said our goodbyes and traded business cards. Tom told us about a book about the building of the lock and dam system on the Mississippi and as soon as I get done writing this blog post, I'm ordering it from Amazon. It's called "The Rising Tide" by John Berry.
  It was dusk as we headed about a mile down the river to  Foscue Creek and it was dark when I pulled off of the channel into a narrow opening in the trees. I knew there was a Coast Guard vessel moored up the creek, so I figured depths were no problem. I used the chartplotter and depth finder to good advantage and we dropped the anchor just past a huge Coast Guard tow boat.
  Our plan was for a full day of travel and this morning I was up at 5 A.M. I checked for some anchorages down river on Active Captain and printed a screen shot so I could find them later. Rosie got up too and I called the lock which was just down from Foscue Creek and they had us on the list and we sailed right on into the lock by 6 A.M., still dark.
  Once we were secure to a bollard, the lockmaster asked me for our vessel documentation number. I told him I'd have to go below to get it, but I added that he was the first person besides the Coast Guard or Water Patrol to ever to ask me for that information. He said to never mind and he locked us on through in nothing flat.

  The sun was just starting to peek out as we left the lock chamber. This is the spillway below the Demopolis Lock. It was a pretty sight with the fog rising from the water. I would advise anyone to make a stop at Demopolis if you ever pass that way.
  We cruised for ten hours today and are currently sitting just above our last lock on the Tenn-Tom, Coffeeville Lock at mile 116. The Alabama River comes in at mile 45 and we are going to pull in there for a day or two until we see what Tropical Storm Isaac is going to do. There is no point in heading further south into the eye of a possible hurricane, so sitting tight up here in the river is the easiest thing to do. Tom from Demopolis said that the Alabama River was a good boating river with lots of sand bars. We are familiar with such places and can make good use of them, especially on a weekend.
  Update: after weighing all the options, we are indeed going to stay above the Coffeeville Dam until Isaac passes and go to Bobby's Fish Camp for dinner tomorrow night on Rosie's birthday. We are off the channel on a good hook and the lock master has no problem with us being here, just upstream from the "No Boats Past This Point" signs. I am but a fool if I don't take the advice of someone who has passed this way more than once. Thank you all for your concerns sent to us on Facebook and they are heeded. Now, where's the rum?
  I got another email today from a blog reader who invited us to give him a shout when we get past his house some day. Jay lives in Seneca, Illinois, on the river, and wondered if we were going to do the Loop, if so, to drop by. I wish I had a way to remind me of all the folks who make similar offers, but I don't know how I would keep track of everyone. We get one or two invites like this per week. I always tell them to keep an eye on the blog and give us a shout when we are approaching their area. We missed one very nice man this week at Midway Marina as we were already past him when he let us know we were in his area. We are sorry to miss anyone, but it's going to happen that way sometimes.

Upper Tenn-Tom Waterway

  The sun is just starting to make an appearance over the low tree line on what is promising to be another beautiful day. Our anchorage is 50 miles south of where we anchored in Bay Springs Lake on Saturday night. If you are heading north, our anchorage is the last one on the Tombigbee River before it turns into mostly canal, but more on our transit later.

   On Sunday morning I installed our new Garmin GPSMap 640. It's in the picture slightly tilted above our older GPS unit. I had to cover the hole for the old chart plotter even if we bought a flush mount kit for the Garmin and it costs $150, so we saved the money and installed it as a surface mount where the old unit was placed. The black Lexan trim matches the trim around our stereo remote. It's in the picture on the far right. The radar cover on the lower right is going to get a makeover to allow us to hold a book, or guide, on it to be used while underway.
  We were at the first lock on the Tenn-Tom by 9 A.M. Sunday morning, and after about a 15 minute wait, an upbound tow exited the lock and we went in. The Bay Springs lock is fairly large, but the rest of the locks as went went south were small in comparison.

  The next lock is the Montgomery Lock, a much smaller outfit. One thing about the locks on the Tenn-Tom, there are lots of them and they communicate with each other. They all work on different channels, so instead of trying to remember them, just hail them on 16 and they will tell you what channel to go to. We got really lucky on Sunday; every lock was ready for us when we arrived, no waiting, and they were very polite. There was also usually only one car at each lock, so the lockmasters seemed to be anxious to be doing something.
  "The Ditch" is not a fair name for the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway. It first opened in 1985 and perhaps then the name may have been apt, but now plenty of vegetation has grown and its quite scenic.

  There are homes behind those trees, and the water is very shallow. Be careful if you want to buy "waterfront" property in these parts. We have seen whole bays filled with nothing but stumps and homes sat on the shore. I don't know how they get in and out.
  We had no agenda for our travel on Sunday, but we wound up traveling 50 miles in 9 hours, but that included locking through 6 times, a record for us. Once we got on a roll, and the lock masters were waiting for us at each lock, it seemed a waste to not take advantage of it.

  Getting late in the afternoon and we were on the section of the river that would best be described as still being "canal", but the shore here was lined with pine trees and the cool air and the pine scent as we cruised down the river was a joy.
  The guide we got from the fellow boater at Aqua Yacht advertised an anchorage at mile 366, which was a section of the old Tombigbee River. From what we eventually found out, the upper regions of the Tombigbee were straightened out to make the canal, and many of the oxbows have been taken back by nature, but some parts of the original river remain, and we set our course for one of these.
  As we neared the entrance to the old river, we came upon two guys in a bass boat, obviously trying to start it. The motor was raised to the trailer position, and a person at the helm was cranking the ignition. The motor would occasionally bark back and sputter, but not start. I asked them if they needed to be towed somewhere, but they declined the offer. We then asked them how to approach the entrance of our intention, as the guide we have was not too clear on it.
  There were two pontoon boats full of afternoon revelers on a sandbar at the entrance to the anchorage we were pulling into and we still had 24 feet on our depth gauge and were heading for the spot in the river where the guide said to plunk the anchor, when nearly everyone on both pontoon boats started waving their arms in the international signal of "don't go there". Guide or no guide, when the locals get that animated about whatever it is I'm about to do, I quickly become a firm believer in whatever it is that they are currently believing in.
  I yelled over if I should not go any further up the river and they were all in agreement, so we dropped the anchor nearly right across from them and we didn't even stop drifting when one of them invited us down to his house "down the river in Aberdeen", to continue the great party they were having. I was about to ask if we should bring our own duct tape and chloroform, but instead just admitted to having a long day and we were going to just take it easy. We were asked if we "knew where we were" and I answered that, yes, we knew where we were. I wanted to add that we also knew what time it was, but figured it wouldn't wash too well under the circumstances.

  Once our "company" left, we had a quiet evening. By the way, one of the pontoon boats had to tow the disabled bass boat down the river. Maybe they should have tried to start it in the lowered position, but what do I know? There was no T.V. reception, so we played a game of Scrabble and turned in early. The picture at the beginning of the blog is what we woke up to and we were ready to get on our way.
  As I pulled out into the waterway channel, a barge was making way downstream. I called them and politely apologized for ducking out into the channel ahead of them and asked it I should wait for them to lock through before we did. The captain said that we would be there long before them and we should get on ahead.
  After mile 336 going down, there are plenty of anchorages, but we found out that what is advertised in the guide we are using is out of date, to put it mildly. It was written in 1995. We transited four locks today, still doing 50 miles, and we intended to stop earlier, but the anchorage we found in the guide was all but dried up. We traveled another 20 miles and pulled into a better spot, but it must be said that the guide promised 18 feet of water in the slough we are in, but when we weren't even 1/4 of the way up in it, I called it quits when we got down to four feet. If some of our river friends back on the Alton Pool think about how just our section of the river has changed up there in the last ten years, consider that the information in this guide is 17 years old.

  Before I end this blog entry, I have to share the only picture I wound up taking this afternoon. We have it on good authority that Superman owns this particular cabin along the banks of the Tombigbee. We understand he is shy about changing into his swimming trunks.
  We are on a good hook in some very quiet water. I think we will stay here for a day and recharge our batteries, the last two days have been enjoyable, but tiring. Tomorrow we'll clean Swing Set up some and I'll modify the cover on the radar monitor to hold one of our books we are using.
  I know we are miles from any civilization around here. We don't have any T.V. reception, but we have Internet. Last night we were just upstream from a somewhat large town and there was little Internet service. I'm glad to be getting this post in and hope you enjoy it. But honestly, this waterway has to be seen to be appreciated, don't let descriptions of it being boring sway you into avoiding it.
  Now I'm going for a late bath and Rosie is going to hold alligator watch for me, whether there's alligators here or not.