Up early this Tuesday morning, I cornholed a belly load from
hamper to washer/dryer (I won! No competition and a very short distance; I’m
easily entertained!) in SaSea’s companionway, then commenced my stretch routine
in hopes of walking before departure toward Mel Price Lock and Dam, a short 1.5
miles downriver from Alton Marina. When Clay joined me on my walking route, he
called dibs on the length of the walk (short, so as to radio the lockmaster by
7:30 a.m. to get our name in the hat for locking through). Boy, do plans change
in a hurry on a boat! Mel Price lockmaster responded to our radio call with a
“triple double in the lock; it will be at least six hours wait time.” Note: A
triple double means three double barges with each double barge having to lock
through in two component parts, a process which usually takes about two hours.
So a wait time of six hours is logical.
Breakfast became leisurely, then Clay busied himself on the
boat while I donned my backpack, grabbed a canvas tote and trotted off to
Schwegel’s, a nearby (two-mile roundtrip walk, but uphill (I was warned)—which
means downhill coming back!) The neighborhood through which I walked wasn’t the
most desirable, and I became a bit alarmed when one of three older folks
stoop-sitting ‘liked my backpack.’ Increased my awareness in a hurry! But
safely I made it and returned to the boat, ‘burdened’ with about 10#’s of fresh
produce—my weight work for the day.
Looking at the clock with the little hand on the one and the
big on the six (ETD was 1:30 p.m. in my mind), I became antsy; we’d been given
no ‘high’ sign by the lockmaster. Weather was still quite hot and muggy, so I
busied myself with some office work, and together Clay and I troubleshot a
printer issue with success. But I’m not handling hurry-up-and-wait very well.
Response to Clay’s 2 p.m. call from a somewhat harried lockmaster was, “I don’t
know when I can take you.” And, finally at 3:30 p.m. the lockmaster was
forthcoming with the real issue. We’d heard him warn the barge captains of an
outdraft upon entering the lock; obviously, one captain had not powered to
overcome the outdraft and had ‘crashed.’ I use the term ‘crashed’ because I
don’t know another word for the accident/incident which caused the barges to
break apart. So we now had a situation which necessitated configuring and
securing the barges and filing an incident report. Looks like we’ll be here
another night!
Hi ho hi ho, to the pool we did go—again! Thankful for a
retreat—much like the Twin Pike Family YMCA is for me at home! After
showering for dinner, we yet again made our way to downtown Alton and chose
Chez Marilyn for our dining pleasure. (I’m really quite ready to do some dinner
prep on the boat and use some of the freezer and frig contents I’d stowed
there). A delightful young lady greeted us, briefed us on the Restaurant Week
specials, and accommodated our dining needs. She was a winner! In fact, Alton
has shown us many quality service folks during our extended stay here!
Up bright and early Wednesday morning, we cast lines at 6:22
a.m. and made a beeline for Mel Price Lock to lock through. With lock hours
24/7 , the events of Tuesday were well past (and anticipation of more to come
on the horizon, I’m sure.) Because the river is still at flood stage, we simply
float in most lock chambers without need to secure to the lock walls (unless
wind or turbulence necessitates such). Twenty-two minutes later we were
downriver of the lock and cruising toward St. Louis. Wishing to complete 30
minutes on the Nordic Track (yes, it’s still aboard and functioning—but it’s a
rough ride!), Clay warned me of the staging area for barges (called ‘fleeting’)
just downriver from the St. Louis Arch which would create an even rougher ride;
not to be deterred, I enjoyed the scenery, especially the impressive cliff and
rock formations on the Missouri shoreline—and hung on to the ‘handlebars’ for
dear life. I actually found a handrail on the boat for today’s use! Under
bright and sunny skies, with temps in the upper 80’s, we cruised uneventfully
to the Kaskaskia River where we tied to the Kaskaskia lock wall for the
overnight. Now realize it’s only 1:44 p.m. (so noted in the log book in which
we dutifully record details of our journey—engine hours, overnight location,
pump out and fueling, etc.). So we sat. And sat. And sat. And, I’m not a
sitter! I radioed the lockmaster and was given permission to walk the top of
the lock wall, a four-minute lap from SaSea to SaSea; so walk I did—and
politely informed the good captain I wished not to stop so early in the day
again in such a location! If I don’t tell him, he won’t know. Right?
Note: As I’ve mentioned previously, the Mississippi River
really isn’t user friendly to boaters for overnights, fuel, pump out, etc.,
especially below St. Louis. The Kaskaskia Lock wall and Cairo, IL are the only
two stops before turning up the Ohio River. And, distance necessitates both
stops.
Now in dinner-prep mode, I sweetly asked Clay to start the
generator (can’t remember now what I was gonna cook, but obviously it required
a stove/oven). Drum roll…the generator ran 4-5 seconds and died. Repeated
attempts to start the generator failed which took us to Plan B for dinner. I
was thankful now for all those dinners out which garnered a host of leftovers!
Note: Translating a dead generator in boater terms means no heat/ac, no
stove/oven, no hot water and no way to charge the engines batteries except to
run the two Yanmar engines. A further reminder: We traveled with no generator
through most of Canada, summer 2016, so it’s doable!
Clay’s efforts to cool the boat interior overnight were
genuine, but failed pretty miserably! It was just too darn hot and humid. We
had a natural sweat lodge, and those conditions, coupled with periodic diesel
fumes, made for a relatively sleepless night. Easily, we both awakened (had we
slept?) and prepped for a 6:30 a.m. cast-off toward Cairo where we would anchor
for Thursday’s planned overnight.
Our anticipated 118-mile cruising day brought with it
entertaining names on our paper chart of the Mississippi River, a rock
formation called Tower Rock which was awesomely regal, swirling river waters
(on the chart, slash marks indicating turbulence) which forced the boat into
fast pivots in ever-changing direction, and a latticework of driftwood just
south of Cape Girardeau (where did it all come from?). The driftwood made
travel difficult, slow-going, tiring and treacherous—in no particular order.
About 2 p.m., we bypassed Cairo (I had no desire to kill another afternoon,
evening and overnight just sitting aboard!) and rounded the bend onto the Ohio
River. The waters of the two rivers at the conflux made the dividing line quite
apparent! There was no doubt as to which river was the muddy Mississippi (Sus
got a giggle out of Mona’s descriptor—pleasant tannish color—when Clay posted a
pix on Facebook!)
We traveled another 42 miles up the Ohio (we’re now
traveling against the current) to the outskirts of Paducah, reaching downriver
from the lock at Paducah at 6 p.m. A two-hour wait at the lock would have us
traveling the remaining six miles to Paducah in the dark—and we don’t do dark.
Enduring another sweat-lodge night was better than traveling in the dark to
dock at an unfamiliar marina configuration! Thus, we chose to drop anchor in
roughly nine feet of water and kick back for the evening. We’d traveled a total
of 160 miles in 12 hours which makes for a long day! We enjoyed cocktail hour in
the flybridge, nuked dinner, then turned off all electricity to conserve the
battery charge during the overnight. Sure hoping for a generator fix in
Paducah so we can continue on the Ohio; if not, we’ll have to detour to Green
Turtle Bay where diesel mechanics are more abundant.
As the sun sets on this Thursday eve, I again bid you a fond
farewell and hope all is well with you and yours!
