I had the honor of being the last person to start off a shift. I had planed to be up by 6:30, but I forgot to turn on my alarm. I still woke up by 6:45 on my own though, and waited to move untill 7 because it was just as dark at 6:45 as it had been when I looked out the window at 4 a.m.
At 7 I untied the front of the boat, and started pulling up anchors. One came fairly easy, but the other one was stuck fast! I fought with it for a few minutes, before I finally got the motor involved. I gave the rope about 10 feet of slack, and tied it to a cleat. Then I shifted into reverse and floored it. The boat accelerated for ten feet, and stopped dead. These are my dads anchors so there would be no giving up. I gave the rope all but 3 feet of slack, turned about, and got a run at it. We where free! I dragged the anchor into the boat, installed the rudder, and we where off!.
Almost imediatly the barges where upon us. The first hour of the day pretty much consisted of me dodging barges and fighting waves. I'm pretty used to barges by now, or atleast I thought I was untill I rounded a particular corner. Off in the distance I could see an ocean worthy ship being turned around by a tug. To the right of that where two barges almost side by side coming toward us, and in front was one barge traveling in the same direction, and ofcourse a little more slowly than us, and also in front was a barge traveling from right to left very slowly. The banks where conpletly lined with ships and barges, and to top it all off, the ship that had been turning around, fired up its engines, and took off ahead of us, further complicating the puzzle. I zigged and zagged, and finally found a hole through the mess. Each time we'd pass a boat, the people on board would stop what they where doing, and stare as we passed, and untill we got out of sight. I was beginning to feel like a lepper.
The traffic continued untill the girls woke up. Jenny took over, and Karla declared that she was going to make pancakes. I'm not really sure how she planned to do it though. In addition to the traffic, we where experiencing the worst winds of the trip. This was resulting in five foot waves, some of which broke over the front of the boat, and ran through the plexiglassed portal, and into the girls bed (maybe my table bed's not so bad after all).
After switching with Jeny I climbed down below to try and learn some about the canal we'd have to take from the Mississippi to lake Pontchartrain in New Orleans. The charts we'd downloaded and printed before the trip showed only the opening, and little detail afterwards. There was however, meantion of a lock. I planned to search the internet for radio frequencys and other details while Karla cooked. "The porta potty's full." Karla declared. "If we use it again it'll overflow." I figured we had another 8 hours to travel before we arrived anywhere. "Well then I guess that means we have to get there!" Just then I looked down and noticed a thin trail of liquid flowing from the porta potty and toward my shoe. "Karla, I think it might already be overflowing." I said. She looked down without expression. "You don't have to stay down here for this. You should go back up." I did as I was told, and was very happy that I'd avoided using the portapotty at all costs, and therefor avoided responsibility. (there was one time I was forced to use it mostly for the girls amusement, and because they didn't feel like going down below. It was an awkward experience that I don't care to discuss or repeat.) I at up top with Jenny, and we discussed how to get around the bursts of commercial boat traffic. It was getting complicated, and kind of threatening. At one point Jenny's turned arround, gone "oops!" and veered for shore. I'd turned around and found that an enormous red ocean liner (pictured above) was in the process of sneaking up on us!
Two hours later Karla had the the boat floor cleaned and sanitized, and the portapotty tied to the front deck, but I stayed up top with Jenny. This was without a doubt the most stressful day of the trip, and at the time, I'd announced that had I known the last day had been like it was, I'd have taken the Kentucky river instead. I don't really feel that way now, days later, but I would warn anyone else looking to do the same trip, about that last little stretch.
The wind picked up again, and waves where consista
ntly breaking over the front of the boat. There where even a few times when the trough we where entering was so steep, that the motor was completly out of the water for a few seconds at a time. The motor was doing well, but it wasn't quite right. Right before I'd left my friend, and the head mechanic of the carlstromexpedition,Adam Hicock, had replaced the waterpump and done a few other things to prep the engine. It had run better then than it did now. The water pump had ceased to pump at an idle, which was fine, since the motor didn't really like to idle for very long without stalling anyway. Jenny decided that she'd had enough of the traffic and the waves, and asked for me to switch back with her. I did, and just as I took my seat in the middle of barge hell, the motor stopped. I was disgusted with the timing, and pretty much threw the 7 gallon water bottle that we'd been using as a backrest out of my way. I searched for the problem and finally spotted that the gas line had been disconnected from the tank. I fumbled with that for what felt like about a day, and finally got the motor restarted and looked up to see how doomed we where. The wind had blown us away from traffic and toward shore. I was happy about that, but thoroughly sick of the day.
ntly breaking over the front of the boat. There where even a few times when the trough we where entering was so steep, that the motor was completly out of the water for a few seconds at a time. The motor was doing well, but it wasn't quite right. Right before I'd left my friend, and the head mechanic of the carlstromexpedition,Adam Hicock, had replaced the waterpump and done a few other things to prep the engine. It had run better then than it did now. The water pump had ceased to pump at an idle, which was fine, since the motor didn't really like to idle for very long without stalling anyway. Jenny decided that she'd had enough of the traffic and the waves, and asked for me to switch back with her. I did, and just as I took my seat in the middle of barge hell, the motor stopped. I was disgusted with the timing, and pretty much threw the 7 gallon water bottle that we'd been using as a backrest out of my way. I searched for the problem and finally spotted that the gas line had been disconnected from the tank. I fumbled with that for what felt like about a day, and finally got the motor restarted and looked up to see how doomed we where. The wind had blown us away from traffic and toward shore. I was happy about that, but thoroughly sick of the day. We motored on and Karla made pancakes while I ate the last mre (sloppy joe). We rounded a bend in the river, and the wind died down some. The barge traffic had let up as well, and there was only one barge in sight. I really wanted to know what we where getting into with that canal. We'd only learned of its existance a few days before. Karla had looked it up on the internet on a whim after we found out that there where no marinas in New Orleans on the river. She'd searched for marinas in Lake Ponchartrain, and after finding two she'd done some kind of search for a canal between the river and lake, and she'd come up with the inter coastal navigation canal. That's really all we had to go on. I wasn't even sure they'd let none commercial traffic through. Jenny took over again, and I went back below to do some more research. Karla went up top with Jenny to help if things got tense again. I scoured the internet for over an hour, and found virtually nothing besides a blurry satelite photo. I had my car gps on in the cabin with me, and noted that we where only about a half mile from the canal. I yelled that fact out the door but the girls where already well aware. I poked my head out to see what the mouth of the canal would like like, and spotted the steam boat "Mississippi Queen." You know that song? Pretty sure this boat was involved some how!
We arrived at the canal as clueless as ever and turned in. Almost immediatly we where at a huge wooden pier with an antiquated lock atached to it. We scanned the signs as we approached and learned that they used channel 14. I tryed calling them about four times, but got no reply so I switched seats with Jenny, and brought us up to the pier. The girls did this amazing tie up job, and I'm still not sure where they learned it. They used one bumper and tentioned the ropes so perfectly that no amount of wind seemed to move us. And it was still windy! I noticed that the waves where hitting the back of the boat hard enought to splash into the cockpit. That's probobly a good two feet. But it was nothing compared to what weatherunderground.com had predicted. We where over due for some t-storms, and I wanted nothing to do with them. A 30 foot aluminum pole is not a good t-storm accessory.
We'd been tied up for maybe 5 minutes, and no one had talked to us, so Karla asked me if she should climb up and talk to someone. I was hesitant to do this because every lock we'd gone through (24 of them) had featured a very official looking sign ordering boaters to stay in their boats and off the lock. At the same time if someone was going to get yelled at I'd rather it be me. I'm not really sure why. Anyway, I climbed the pier, and walked up to the tug boat that was tied up between us and the lock. There was a guy loading pipes there, and he told me that he didn't think the lock would be opened untill 6, but it might change for private traffic, but he had no idea how to call the lock. It was maybe 1:30 in the afternoon, and we could see the storms rolling in. The last thing I wanted to do was motor into a strange lake (the second largest salt water lake in America no 
less. 500000 acres) In the dark in a t-storm, with the wind blowing toward us, which was what it felt to me was what it would do. I climbed back down to the boat again, and filled the girls in. I tryed the radio again, and this time someone answered back! I told them who we where and that we wanted through, and he informed me that they didn't open untill 6 pm, or if the weather went bad. It was very obvious to me that these people where used to having an enclosed cabin, and that there boats didn't feature a shiny lightning rod. There was nothing I could do though, so I layed back and started a movie on my Ipod, while Karla Played Jewel quest, and I think Jenny was journaling in her bed. Something in her bed anyway. A short time later we heard whistling, and the same guy I'd talked too was looking down off the pier and into our open hatch. "Hey the weathers gonna go bad so they're letting us through at 3:00." We thanked him for taking to time to let us know this, and we continued on as we where untill 3. Finally the lock opened, and we where called on the radio and told to go to the port wall. We did so, and a guy who looked to be samoan threw us a couple of ropes, and finally, on the very last lock that we would deal with on the trip, showed us that it was better to wrap the ropes around a cleat on the far side of the boat and then let it slip through your fingers as the boat descended. (maybe we should have started in New Oleans). As we waited two more boats entered the lock with us. This was another first. Up untill now, we'd never shared a lock with anything larger than a kayak. In fact it was a kayak, and only once. The last boat to enter was a smaller tug called Mr. Chips. I heard them call the lock and say something about never expecting to see a sailboat, or something like that. We all tied up, and the water dropped slowly for about a half an hour. Then the samoan looking gentleman came back, and collected our ropes and wished us luck just a little sooner than we would have liked. We drifted about the lock for a little while, and where very pleased when the prop wash from all the larger boats leaving the lock didn't smash us against the back wall.
less. 500000 acres) In the dark in a t-storm, with the wind blowing toward us, which was what it felt to me was what it would do. I climbed back down to the boat again, and filled the girls in. I tryed the radio again, and this time someone answered back! I told them who we where and that we wanted through, and he informed me that they didn't open untill 6 pm, or if the weather went bad. It was very obvious to me that these people where used to having an enclosed cabin, and that there boats didn't feature a shiny lightning rod. There was nothing I could do though, so I layed back and started a movie on my Ipod, while Karla Played Jewel quest, and I think Jenny was journaling in her bed. Something in her bed anyway. A short time later we heard whistling, and the same guy I'd talked too was looking down off the pier and into our open hatch. "Hey the weathers gonna go bad so they're letting us through at 3:00." We thanked him for taking to time to let us know this, and we continued on as we where untill 3. Finally the lock opened, and we where called on the radio and told to go to the port wall. We did so, and a guy who looked to be samoan threw us a couple of ropes, and finally, on the very last lock that we would deal with on the trip, showed us that it was better to wrap the ropes around a cleat on the far side of the boat and then let it slip through your fingers as the boat descended. (maybe we should have started in New Oleans). As we waited two more boats entered the lock with us. This was another first. Up untill now, we'd never shared a lock with anything larger than a kayak. In fact it was a kayak, and only once. The last boat to enter was a smaller tug called Mr. Chips. I heard them call the lock and say something about never expecting to see a sailboat, or something like that. We all tied up, and the water dropped slowly for about a half an hour. Then the samoan looking gentleman came back, and collected our ropes and wished us luck just a little sooner than we would have liked. We drifted about the lock for a little while, and where very pleased when the prop wash from all the larger boats leaving the lock didn't smash us against the back wall. We motored out of the lock and almost immediatly came to a bridge. It looked low. The tug ahead of us invited us to go ahead of him, and I radioed back wondering if he knew the bridge specs but there was no reply. We motored up to the bridge as we'd done at the very first draw bridge we'd come too, before we knew that we'd have to have bridges open for us, and then I threw it into reverse, and just barely creeped up too and under the bridge with a few feet to spare. I was thrilled untill one of the girls pointed out that there was another bridge about five minutes down the canal and this one definitly was too low for us, or any other boat for that matter because it was touching the water. I called the lock again, and asked than what the frequency was. I'm pretty sure the lock hated us by then, but he courtiously told me channel 13. I tryed the channel once, and someone replied. I asked them too open, and they answered that the bridge didn't open untill 5:45. It was 3:30. He then informed me that he wasn't the bridge, but Mr. Chips, the tug boat who'd entered last. He'd exited the lock ahead of us, and gone on to tie up to a large concrete post that was protruding from the water. He recognized that this was an easy ma
nouver for a tug surouded by rubber bumpers (tires) and steel, but not so easy for a little fiber glass boat with 3 bumpers total. He invited us to come tie up along side them for the duration. We accepted, and rough looking man in his late 40's tied cots up when we arrived. He offered us Cokes, and his nephew joined us, and they started telling storys. Apparently they where down there on that boat durring Katrina, and they'd served as a mobile morgue. (they wern't too thrilled by that) They'd also ridden out hurricanes on the boat on several occations. We learned all about the tugg boat life, and also one other useful piece of information. There was a marina 1/4 mile away from us in the canal! Karla went to work looking it up on the internet. She anounced that it had everything but laundry, and the descision was made. We wouldn't have to drive through 8 foot waves in the dark after all!
nouver for a tug surouded by rubber bumpers (tires) and steel, but not so easy for a little fiber glass boat with 3 bumpers total. He invited us to come tie up along side them for the duration. We accepted, and rough looking man in his late 40's tied cots up when we arrived. He offered us Cokes, and his nephew joined us, and they started telling storys. Apparently they where down there on that boat durring Katrina, and they'd served as a mobile morgue. (they wern't too thrilled by that) They'd also ridden out hurricanes on the boat on several occations. We learned all about the tugg boat life, and also one other useful piece of information. There was a marina 1/4 mile away from us in the canal! Karla went to work looking it up on the internet. She anounced that it had everything but laundry, and the descision was made. We wouldn't have to drive through 8 foot waves in the dark after all! 5:45 rolled around, and we bid the crew of Mr. Chips farewell, and headed for the slowly opening bridge. We slipped under it, and then it started to rain. I ignored it for as long as I could, and then asked for my rain coat. Then it started to pour. We took a left and Mr. Chips went right toward some kind of Nasa construction factory. We motored for about1/4 mile before coming to the next bridge. I was soaked by now, and sick of the river, I think we all where. We called the bridge assuming it was channel 13 but got no reply all 3 times, so I tryed 14 with similar results. We saw people so I motored up next to the bridge, but saw that it was just a man and his son, so we fell back, and finally in an act of frustration we landed in a gravel pit near the bridge. The shore and bottom where sandy though and the anchors failed in the strong current. I tried it again, hitting the shore harder this time and Jenny fought with the front anchor while I threw one out on the up current side on the back. Meanwhile Karla was calling the lock to learn more about this bridge we where stuck at. The lock was very helpful yet again, and gave us the bridge name and frequency... channel 13. I tried 13 atleast 3 more times, and got no reply each time. We where drifting away from shore again, and I was more than a bit irritated with the whole situation. Karla said if we landed again she'd go to the bridge and see if there was even enyone there. I brought us back to land and jenny jumped out and held the boat on shore. Then Karla and I trudged soaking through the rain and up to the bridge. We went through a chainlink gate, and up a stairway, and pounded on a door. The window was dark and we almost left before an older man opened the door. He had been in there watching tv in the dark. He said the bridge would be up in about 3 minutes. I asked him what frequency he monitored. He said 13. I was not happy. We ran back to the boat, and the bridge was up by the time we where all on board. We motored through it and continued on, hoping that that would be the last draw bridge before the marina. The rain picked up again and The girls got out the spot light just in case. The banks where lined with building and sunken boats and debris, but most of it was lit up enough to be fairly visible. Nothing ahead was though. The pouring rain obscured my vision, and I had to constantly monitor my distanced between to two banks and try and stay even. Eventually we spotted a million dollar yacht, and then another and finally some docks materialized. We made a beeline for the first one, and I managed to crash us fairly gently into it. We walked the boat around a submerged pallet, tied up, and prepared to call a cab for a hotel! While the girls packed I called home, and then I packed and hiked up to the marina office. It was about 8:00 now, and both the office and bathrooms where closed. No matter! Hotels have bathrooms. the girls informed me that there attempts to call cabs had all failed. I used 800 free 411 and learned that there where 15 cab compays in the New Orleans phone book. And hour later I learned that all but two of them had been destryed by the hurricane, and those two where insanely busy on a Friday night. I probobly called those two cab companys 40 times combined before finally giving up, and being content sleeping in wet clothes in a wett boat and ordering a pizza. Well guess what. Most of the pizza places where destroyed by Katrina too! Finally after way too many phone calls, Karla made tuna helper, and we went to bed. This was not how I pictured our arrival to be at all!
Where really sorry that the blog is taking so long to finish. We should have it completly wrapped up in a day or two now. The rest is about our time in New Orleans and how much better things got. And also how smelly Brourbon street is.
