The Tennessee River

Bay Springs Lake to Joe Wheeler State Park - August 28 - September 11

A lone boat at Midway Marina

We left Midway Marina Thursday morning, August 28 and traveled upriver, passing through three locks uneventfully. Once at Bay Springs Marina we busied ourselves with laundry, grocery shopping and cleaning up the boat. The closest Walmart was about 15 miles from the Bay Springs Marina, so we took the courtesy car and drove on a very narrow, winding, tree covered, rural backroad to get to the town of Booneville. Adrian was sure that there was a more direct route, but there wasn’t. We drove past some middle-class brick houses and some ramshackle shingled houses, at least one Baptist Church, three horses grazing in a field, and one house with a Trump flag. Several houses had American flags, and we discussed replacing our worn-out flag on the boat with a new one, which we did a couple of days later. After that trip, we decided that it was much too far to go for shopping to make this our home base.

 Since we had power at the marina, I made meatballs and potatoes in the air fryer for dinner. There were enough for a couple more meals while we anchored out over the upcoming Labor Day weekend. A late morning rain shower provided welcome relief from the heat that Friday. We completed the necessary chores in preparation for pulling out of the marina. Committing to a more leisurely pace, we paid the harbormaster for our two-night stay, pulled out of Bay Springs Marina around 10:30, and headed upriver a couple of miles. We explored the various coves of the “Five Fingers”, a series of inlets off the Bay Springs Lake  which provides some wind cover from the surrounding trees. We chose a quiet section with plenty of room should other boaters want

to join us, but we were hoping they would not. The trick was to find a shallow enough spot to drop the anchor. Much of the lake was 30 feet or more deep. We normally looked for anchorages no more than 12 feet and as low as 5 feet. The Petite Fleur has a draft that is 3.5 feet. (The distance from the bottom of the keel to the water line.) Adrian likes to set the anchor and then let out more chain to secure the boat more firmly should a storm come up, which did occur late that afternoon.

Our New Flag Storm's a Comin! After the Storm

But before the weather changed it was sunny and hot, around 94 degrees. As the lake water was clear, we took advantage of the opportunity to go for a swim and cool off. The water was divine as we floated and swam around the boat. I love floating on my back and looking at the sky from the water’s vantage point. I gazed at the wispy cloud vapors scattered across the bright blue of the sky and the few puffy cotton balls floating here and there. After about 20 minutes, dark storm clouds came up over the trees and soon covered our little piece of paradise. We had just enough time to get in the boat, dry off and stow some of the items we didn’t want to get wet. The temperature sank about 15 degrees, causing us to don shirts and longer pants to keep off the chill.

I had promised Adrian I would get my remaining plants off the Bimini (the roof over the galley) and hang them at the end of the aft deck in the macrame hangers I’d made on our earlier trip. When we returned to Houston earlier, I left my plants with a dock neighbor who had a few of her own. Eventually, she and her husband drove back to Ohio for a few weeks, but she left our plants with watering devices to keep them from drying out. When we returned to the boat, I found them almost dry, but alive enough that I could revive them. (I’d thrown the tomato plant away and gave the sole green tomato to my new friend.) That afternoon, after the storm had passed, I took some scissors and trimmed the thyme, pulled out the dead stems of the parsley, leaving the basil alone. Trimming the thyme was like creating bonsai, first finding and then snipping the brown stems with no growth at their base, and trimming back the ones with new growth, preserving the leaves for use in cooking. It was tedious, but mindful work, which I enjoy when I have/make the time.

With fewer chores to tend to - other than meals and clean up - I’ve been able to catch up on some reading. Some marinas have “libraries” where you can take books that people have read and pass them on to others. I found two that piqued my interest: One of them was “The Onion Fields” by Joseph Wambaugh, which was published in 1973. I was busy mothering a toddler and a newborn when the book first came out, so, I’d never read it, though it was on the best seller list for a while. It’s the true story of a police officer kidnaping and killing near Bakersfield, CA in 1963. It was all over the news at that time. It gives me some idea as to why police react so quickly to perceived danger these days but are often the victim of people with guns without provocation.

My next book was “Home Before Morning” by Lynda Van Devanter, the true story of an Army nurse in Vietnam. She describes the horrors of being a surgical nurse in an ER in a combat zone. Needless to say, her life was never the same after returning to “the world” following a year of duty. I also have “The Women” by Kristin Hannah on my “want to read” list, which is also about a woman in Vietnam. For “light reading” I have been listening on Audible to “The Dalai Lama’s Cat” series; delightful and thought-provoking books written from the Dalai Lama’s cat perspective. It describes the adventures of the cat and lessons she learns from the Dalai Lama and other people – ordinary folks, gurus and yogis. The book is written and read by David Michie, who has a delightfully calming voice and a British accent. I also picked up a book that I thought Adrian would like called, “The Perfect Storm” which was made into a movie starring George Clooney. A white-knuckle true story of a fishing boat caught in a rare tempest at sea in 1991. Since we have little to no cell connection (even with our booster) I can’t engage in my usual browsing addiction on my phone. It’s frustrating on one level and a good break from all the “stuff” going on in the world. Though I do miss not being able to track the Astro’s score in real time when they play. So reading is the next best (really the better) thing to do while floating in the lake.

We spent Saturday and Sunday being lazy. Well, I was being lazy, while Adrien found various and sundry things to work on around the boat - always improving or reengineering things. I finished “The Onion Field”, caught up on Duo Lingo as cell power permitted, and enjoyed the cool weather.

Monday morning, Labor Day, we prepared to head upriver but, while pulling up the anchor, we discovered that the anchor was stuck. This meant either the chain was tangled on something, or the anchor was attached to some immovable object. Adrian moved the boat to different angles to the chain and tugged, but it wouldn’t budge. In fact, the chain would go in reverse into the water several inches. There was no one around, so we were left to our own devices. After one more attempt, Adrian took a wrench to tighten the anchor roller to the bow sprit to ensure it was not coming loose. All we needed was for the mechanism to break off. One last tug and something seemed to give, very noisily. There were some loud bumps on the bow of the boat. When we went to see what it was, we found a 15-18 x 1.5’ log that had caused the problem. The chain must have gotten wrapped around it and both were stuck in the mud at the bottom of the cove. There was scarring on the log where the chain had chewed on it, spinning the log as it finally came to the surface. Fortunately, the log was smooth, with no knots or fragments of branches to entangle us further. Freed, it quickly floated away with the current. There was no evidence of any damage that we could see, so with sighs of relief, we headed out of the cove.

We were in search for a marina where we could potentially leave the boat after cruising the Tennessee River for the next several weeks. Our next stop was the Safe Harbor Aqua Yacht Marina in Iuka, which was about 6 hours from our last anchorage. I immediately liked the large marina, although it was a hike to get to the bathrooms and showers which were at the top of a ridge requiring one to ascend four angled inclines and two sets of steps. Whew! The bathrooms were modern and clean! On the downside, the laundry was on the other side of the wide maintenance yard and the machines were not in working condition due to a broken pressure pipe. The restaurant closed early, so we didn’t get a chance to check it out. Shopping was a good 15 – 20 miles away, so we decided to forge ahead the next day and check out the Florence Marina.

It was a beautiful, almost chilly morning, when we pulled out of the marina, with the sun glistening off the water and a forest of trees on both sides of the wide expanse of water. We were one of the only boats on the water, apart from a few fisher people. The holiday frenzy had subsided. The only sound was the thrum of the motor and the rush of the water as we sliced through the river in our little tug. We finally entered the Tennessee River with little fanfare except for the high five we gave each other. We made it!

Lovely River Views River Bottom Grille (RBG) McFarland Park An Odd Duck

We pulled into the Florence Marina in early afternoon and positioned the boat where the dockmaster had told us on the phone. We are still working on synchronizing our actions when it comes to docking. We don’t always know which side of the boat we’ll be tying to the dock until the last few minutes. Often there are people available who either work at the marina or who are helpful boaters who will grab a rope and guide the boat to the desired spot and tie us off, forward and aft. When there is no one, I’m still uncertain as to what to do, and often we don’t communicate well when things are happening quickly. Assumptions are made and things get tense. Not always, but this was one of those occasions. So, an otherwise pleasant trip was spoiled a bit. We talked it through later, as we always do, and enjoyed the remainder of the day.

I took a walk to where the Marina Office, the Restaurant - The River Bottom Grille - and the bathrooms and laundry were located. The place had been described by other boaters as “rustic” which was a nice way of saying “old”. I don’t mind old, but half of the area below the restaurant smelled of garbage. It reminded me of the smells that greet you when you pass by the alley behind some groceries or restaurants in NYC. The laundry room had one washer and one dryer and no place to sit or fold clothes. We ate dinner at the restaurant and the food and service were good, the prices reasonable.

Up a steep embankment, a busy road runs along the north side of the marina. Crossing the bridge heading east takes you into Muscle Shoals. To the southwest is McFarland Park, a large expanse where I was able to take a walk each morning we were there. The Marina is only a mile from Downtown Florence, so that’s a big plus. Mainly due to it's proximity to resources, we will be using Florence Marina as our home base. We paid for an uncovered slip for the month of September and signed a six-month lease. The next day we rented a car and drive to Columbus, MS to pick up our car and drove it back to Florence, our new home base.

We left Florence Marina, Alabama on Saturday, September 7 and called ahead to Wilson Lock and Dam. At 110 feet wide, 600 feel long, with a maximum lift of 100 feet, Wilson Lock is the highest single-lift lock east of the Rockies. We were able to get in easily as there were no other boats going up or down river. Our little trawler was dwarfed by the huge cavern that would take us to a higher elevation. This was the first lock that I was responsible for tying the boat to the floating bollard. I caught it on the first try. The ride was a little rough since we tied into the middle section

Wilson Lock and Dam Water entering the lock

instead of closer to the gate at the end. When the water flows in from the corners, it causes some turbulence when it flows downward and rises quickly to the middle. The water closer to the exit gate is calmer. But we made it in and out in less than 30 minutes.

The Pickwick Lake portion of the Tennessee River was wide, and the current was choppy due to 10-20 knot winds. There were no channel markers until we got closer to the Joe Wheeler Lock and Dam which had two chambers: a small one and a big one. The female lock-master directed us to the larger one and, as we usually do, we headed toward the second to last tie up on the starboard side. We were the only boat in the lock. The current inside the chamber and the wind made it difficult for Adrian to get close enough to the bollard for me to slip the rope over. Like the

Example of stacked bollards

previous lock, there was a bollard set about a foot over my head and another below it that was a foot or more below the edge of the hull. Both were difficult to reach. Adrian backed off and made another attempt to get closer. This time I was able to snag the top bollard. Adrian took the rope, wrapped it around the bollard, as he usually does, and held on as the water began to enter the chamber. Adrian struggled to hang on, as the boat was at an angle and kept pulling away from the wall. At one point his hip nudged the throttle, threatening to take the boat forward, but I saw it in time to pull it back and hold it down. After only a few minutes, the lockmaster told him to let go of the rope and to control the boat within the chamber. She said she was afraid he would hurt himself. Adrian admitted that he was about to let go without being told. Gratefully, he let go and steered the boat to the middle of the chamber and away from the forward gate. There was a lot of turbulence in the middle of the lock (Adrian thought the lockmaster must have opened all the valves at once; normally the water isn’t as rough) and it was challenging to keep the boat away from the walls and the gates. Finally, we reached the top and the doors began to open. Once the horn sounded, we were on our way once again. As always, we thanked the lockmaster for the ride on the radio, though we were just grateful to be out and away. This was the only lock we’d had trouble in.

I was only a short distance to Joe Wheeler Park Marina, but we had decided to anchor out, so we passed the marina and found a lovely, quiet cove in which to drop the hook. It was another beautiful spot. The temperature was perfect – a little chilly in the morning, but the sun felt wonderful as we sat with long pants, hoodies and socks drinking coffee.

Morning Coffee Afteernoon Musings Looking for Dinner

Musings:

Oh, what a perfect day! It’s 80 degrees at 3:30 in the afternoon, with 30% humidity! A perfectly blue sky sets of the green and slowly yellowing leaves of the oak, pine and walnut trees that surround us on three side and along the arm of the rippling river where we entered the anchorage. Even without my sunglasses, the colors are intense and vivid. The boat gently rocks, and the breeze blows across me, whipping my hair around my face. The sun is warm and comforting over my right shoulder, then my left, as the boat slowly pivots in the breeze around the anchor. There is no sound save the water rippling by us, the rustling of paper as the breeze catches the pages of the book I’d set aside, and the flapping of the American flag hanging off the stern. I was occasionally aware of the hum of traffic on the roads that lead to this park, reminding me that we are not far from that other life "on the dirt”.

This is why I came along on this adventure. This moment is what I’d imagined life on a boat would be. After the hubbub of motoring though choppy waters in the Gulf, evading barges, being eaten by mosquitoes and “no see ems”, enduring the heat, the cramped quarters, riding up dozens of locks, steering for long hours between markers to stay on course – this is the reward!

And then the chewing started. (See previous blog entry for the backstory). We were sitting on the aft deck with our usual celebratory glass of wine (We celebrate this way after completing another leg of the trip.) when we heard the all too familiar sound and burst out laughing. The algae eating fish (UCO's - Unidentified Chewing Objects) were at it again. This one nibbled for a little while and swam off, perhaps to feast on the boats that were docked at the marina about a mile away.

For me, the few days at that last two anchorages were the most idyllic of our journey so far, primarily due to the moderate temperatures and humidity, the breezes and the colorful surroundings. Leaves on the trees were just beginning to be drained of chlorophyl, morphing into

Saturn Setting in the Evening Sky

lighter shades of green, then yellow, then brown. The cloudless sky and the warmth of the sun, made for a most satisfying experience.

We stayed anchored through a lazy Sunday with pancakes and bacon for breakfast, snacks during the day while I read my book, and leftovers for dinner. I lazed on the fore deck, took a long nap and tried not to feel guilty as Adrian spent his “free time” tending to the boat and mapping out our course for the remainder of our trip.

One morning I had commented to Adrian that, when I still owned my house, on cool mornings like these, I would spend hours in my yard, tending to the garden and truly enjoying it. He told me that his boat was like his garden. Caring for it gave him the same kind of pleasure and satisfaction.

When we left Florence Marina, we intended to head upriver at a leisurely pace. At that point we had six weeks to go as far as we could, spend 4 or more days back at Joe Wheeler State Park for the Rendezvous in late October before stowing the boat in Florence and heading back to Houston the first part of November. We'd reserved a slip for the Rendezvous and signed up for some programs while we were in Houston during July. We didn’t want to push it by traveling every day, so we mapped out a schedule of three or four days traveling with two or three days at anchor or at a marina for a night or two. Our plans were immediately thwarted by Francine, the weather system that would bypass Texas, but head toward Louisiana and beyond.

We knew we would need to find a “safe harbor” in case the weather got rough. We decided to dock at Joe Wheeler State Park Marina, initially to check it out, but then we decided to stay and weather the storm there. Joe Wheeler State Park is a very large park on the river that has a lodge, a restaurant, banquet hall, swimming pool, campgrounds and a golf course.

Once we were securely tied to our assigned slip, we ordered some takeout from a local Mexican restaurant and the kindly volunteer who works at the Marina part-time, took me into town to pick it up. Along the way, Terry, who must be in his mid sixties, told me that he and his wife used to sail and fish. "She could outfish me anytime." A few months ago she had to have a stint inserted into her brain after she developed hydorsyphelitis and now she is afraid of the water and wants nothing to do with it. He had hoped to take his boat to the Gulf and start "the Loop" but his wife doesn't want anyone to care for her but him. You never know what sort of burdens people carry.

He talked about how the forests are being cut down in this entire region. One land owner of over15,000 acres used the clearcut approach, taking down all the trees, no matter what size, then replanting with pines. The oak, walnut, ash and other tree varieties would not be replaced, changing the entire ecosystem: animals would not be able to forage for the same food and their habitats destroyed. Apparently, someone had talked the owner into "selective cutting": only cutting the larger, more mature trees, allowing the smaller ones to grow and reseed the area. Terry had grown up in the forest and hated to see it destroyed. A man after my own heart.

We observed numerous deer, many of them fawns, along the side of the road as we left and returned to the park. Terry mentioned in passing that there were a number of raccoons that hung out in the area, warning us to not leave anything that would attract them out on the boat at night.

The next night we closed up the boat and walked to the showers. On the way back, when we were just stepping onto the pier where the boat was docked, I notices a dark, round, furry form on the rim of the aft deck. I yelled at it to "get out of there!" and it proceeded to go down to the floor of the aft deck. Adrian continued to the back of the boat and I went to the front. At one point I saw him on the bow when he lifted his head up, revealing the cutest, scared, little face. Cute or not, we couldn't have him on the boat, so Adrian chased him around to the back of the boat again where he must have jumped off. Neither of us saw him leave, so we carefully opened the back door and got a couple of flashlights to make sure he wasn't hiding someplace or had gotten inside.

We had tied the boat securly, so we barely felt the wind as it came up during the night. The only disturbance was a trio of UCO's that chewed/licked the algae on the hull of the boat all night long. In the morning, I guess they were sated and swam away to sleep it off.

We did discover a couple of minor leaks the next morning which, despite the on again, off again rain, Adrian took care of before either of them got worse. We spent the day cleaning up a bit and I updated this post so I could publish it while we still had power and WiFi.

We plan to leave Saturday morning to continue our journey along the Tennessee River. I'll catch you up in a week or so.