A sailboat is an excellent vessel for heavy weather. Most of them are made from wood, steel or heavy fiberglass so they're Sturdy and hard to sink. Additionally they have hulls that extend much deeper into the water than other boats, helping them to maintain there headings even when things begin to get (wild). To top it all off and maximize stability, Chicken Of The Sea has a 500 pound hunk of steel that cranks up and down for improved shallow water clearance and stability. Guess what... it's not enough. We are constantly snagging debris with the keel. It seems that atleast once per day someone announces that "there's a weird sound under the boat!" And then I spend about 15 minutes being terrified that I'll have to dive blindly under the boat and yank on what ever it might be untill I'm out of air. I'm guessing it would take six or seven tries if I could do it at all. The
other complication is getting to shore. If you've read the other blogs you've probobly noticed we run aground I lot. It's not like we're blindly motoring around where ever we please, oblivious to obstacles. The boat needs a lot of water! And the depth finder that came with it worked when I tested it on land, and then fizzled when it touched water. When we came through lock and dam 27 the current picked up, and the river went from rocks and mud to the stickiest nastiest mud I've ever seen! Last night we gently ran aground and tied up on a muddy bank. Naturally barges passed by and set us rocking every hour, and when we awoke at 7:30, Chicken of the Sea was mired in it like a pig. Karla and I where in the cockpit, and Jenny in bed at the front of the boat, when I first started the engine and tried out reverse. The 8 horse struggled with all its might, but we where lodged. I put on the pre-mudded rubber boots I'd brought that now doubled as cold weather boots, and plopped down in the muck. I lifted and pushed pretty hard, but nothing happened. I asked Karla to move to the back of the boat and tryed again. Nothing. Finally we got Jenny to the back of the boat, started it, and I pushed and rocked it back and fourth while Karla floored it in reverse. Finally and slowly it came loose. We're gonna have to be careful! Chicken of the Sea weighs almost a ton. Anything more than a little stuck is probobly too much. I backed us into the current, then installed the tiller, and attempted to go back to bed while Karla drove, and Jenny blogged, but was jolted awake when Karla hit a log. Oh well, it felt good to be lazy. Actually I was very lazy today. I even read a little. Karla had a 2 and a half hour shift, and Jenny had a 2 hour, and then we where at Cape Girardeau Missouri. So we only covered about 45 miles, but it was an important day. This was the first city we'd come too with the new increased current, and the first town surrounded by flood walls and lacking a marina or city dock. Word is that none of the citys from here on out have any reacreational boating facili
tys at all due to regular destructive flood occurences. Jenny got us to town around 1, after a mostly uneventful trip. We passed a few barges and a dredging operation, all of which looked threatening, but all let us through without incident. When we arrived at the city, we observed the 21 foot mural covered flood walls surrounding the city, and absolutly no place to park a boat. We passed a crowd of people and a boat landing with no dock. Knowing how fast the current was, I didn't wanna travel past the city and find out that we had to travel right back up to the boat launch at two miles and hour, so we turned around, and then, fighting the current, we ferried over to the crowd of people on shore, and hovered there with the motor nearly at full throttle, and yelled questions about the town at a man. He yelled questions back, one of them was whether the keel could swing or not. Finally he declared that the boat landing was our best option. We thanked him and motored ahead to the boat landing. It's an spooky feeling approaching shore with the motor at 3/4 throttle till the last few seconds, but that's what it took. Just as we where about to land, group of people came down from the parking lot, and watched as we landed. One man in particular came all the way down the bank to help us land. I'm really inpressed with how easy it is to find a person to help out. We've never asked for help from anyone, but we've recieved plenty. This mans name was Tad Miller. Later he came to be known as Captain Tad Miller. It turns out we asked directions from what might have been the only sailing finatic in the city. He'd given us his advice, and then rushed down to the boat launch keeping tabs on how far our walks would be to each amenity he thought we'd find useful. As we tied up he asked the usual questions as his young son Drake (named after the pirate Frances Drake) looked on. He offered us a ride to the gas station which he then informed us was .33 miles away. We accepted, and piled in his old Lincoln. On the way into town he overshot the gas station, and descided to make of tour out of his mistake. He showed us a good restaurant, and the gas station, and much to the girls glee, a coffee shop! (it was closed though and they never got to it.) We went back to the gas station, and filled the tanks with antiquated pumps, and Jenny payed inside a convenience store with more booze than convenience items, and Tad brought us back to the boat to drop o
ff the tanks. Along the way he told us some of his story. At one point he had owned four companys with liveaboard sailboats galore in the carribean. Tad was a big time sailor, and I would have liked to talked to him more, but he and Drake had to leave for Branson (Tads home town), so he drove us to the grocery store, and asked only for a postcard in return for his kindness. We descided to put off grocery shopping untill after we'd had some lunch. Well I did anyway. My plan was met with some resistance. The girls didn't wanna walk down the hill to the restaurant and then back up again afterwards for grocerys. It was about a five block hike. I just didn't want our ice to melt while we looked for a restaurant and ate. After some explanation they saw things my way, or atleast conceded, and we went restaurant hunting. Tad had recomended a cajun place, but it turned out to be a bar too, and it smells like they still allow smoking in Missouri bars. So we went down the street to the restaurant brewery (I know, it really doesn't sound like an improvment does it). The brewery was actually a pretty nice place with awsome food. I tryed their honey wheat beer, and wasn't thrilled with it but the food made up for it. Afterwards we hiked back up to the grocery store, and resupplied. The woman at the counter took one look at us and asked if we where related. Karla explained and the woman said she would have bet we where siblings. Apparently our eyes are the same? Must be the scandinavian influence. Next was a long uncomfortable hike back to the boat with bags (10 cents each I might add!) cutting into our fingers. It was 4 oclock by then, and we've vowed to stop motoring at five since our spotlights dead, so we descided to spend the night at the boat launch. The girls put everything away, and I retied some of our anchor ropes, and then pretty much just watched them work since there was no room for me to help, and then we walked back into town looking for coffee. Well they closed at 3, and it was after 6 by now so that plan fizzled. I still needed a spotlight bulb, but the nearest hardware store was 10 miles away acording to Garmin, so we got icecream and headed back to the boat. As we approached the boat, there was a van and a bunch of men pulled up as close to our boat as they could possibly get. I must admit I was concerned. They saw us coming, but didn't seem concerned, and when I got there I was relieved to find that they had lawn chairs set up and where fishing. We just walked right past them to the boat. I blogged for awhile and then it was time for a movie. (Die Hard 2 finally! But I fell asleep.)
other complication is getting to shore. If you've read the other blogs you've probobly noticed we run aground I lot. It's not like we're blindly motoring around where ever we please, oblivious to obstacles. The boat needs a lot of water! And the depth finder that came with it worked when I tested it on land, and then fizzled when it touched water. When we came through lock and dam 27 the current picked up, and the river went from rocks and mud to the stickiest nastiest mud I've ever seen! Last night we gently ran aground and tied up on a muddy bank. Naturally barges passed by and set us rocking every hour, and when we awoke at 7:30, Chicken of the Sea was mired in it like a pig. Karla and I where in the cockpit, and Jenny in bed at the front of the boat, when I first started the engine and tried out reverse. The 8 horse struggled with all its might, but we where lodged. I put on the pre-mudded rubber boots I'd brought that now doubled as cold weather boots, and plopped down in the muck. I lifted and pushed pretty hard, but nothing happened. I asked Karla to move to the back of the boat and tryed again. Nothing. Finally we got Jenny to the back of the boat, started it, and I pushed and rocked it back and fourth while Karla floored it in reverse. Finally and slowly it came loose. We're gonna have to be careful! Chicken of the Sea weighs almost a ton. Anything more than a little stuck is probobly too much. I backed us into the current, then installed the tiller, and attempted to go back to bed while Karla drove, and Jenny blogged, but was jolted awake when Karla hit a log. Oh well, it felt good to be lazy. Actually I was very lazy today. I even read a little. Karla had a 2 and a half hour shift, and Jenny had a 2 hour, and then we where at Cape Girardeau Missouri. So we only covered about 45 miles, but it was an important day. This was the first city we'd come too with the new increased current, and the first town surrounded by flood walls and lacking a marina or city dock. Word is that none of the citys from here on out have any reacreational boating facili
tys at all due to regular destructive flood occurences. Jenny got us to town around 1, after a mostly uneventful trip. We passed a few barges and a dredging operation, all of which looked threatening, but all let us through without incident. When we arrived at the city, we observed the 21 foot mural covered flood walls surrounding the city, and absolutly no place to park a boat. We passed a crowd of people and a boat landing with no dock. Knowing how fast the current was, I didn't wanna travel past the city and find out that we had to travel right back up to the boat launch at two miles and hour, so we turned around, and then, fighting the current, we ferried over to the crowd of people on shore, and hovered there with the motor nearly at full throttle, and yelled questions about the town at a man. He yelled questions back, one of them was whether the keel could swing or not. Finally he declared that the boat landing was our best option. We thanked him and motored ahead to the boat landing. It's an spooky feeling approaching shore with the motor at 3/4 throttle till the last few seconds, but that's what it took. Just as we where about to land, group of people came down from the parking lot, and watched as we landed. One man in particular came all the way down the bank to help us land. I'm really inpressed with how easy it is to find a person to help out. We've never asked for help from anyone, but we've recieved plenty. This mans name was Tad Miller. Later he came to be known as Captain Tad Miller. It turns out we asked directions from what might have been the only sailing finatic in the city. He'd given us his advice, and then rushed down to the boat launch keeping tabs on how far our walks would be to each amenity he thought we'd find useful. As we tied up he asked the usual questions as his young son Drake (named after the pirate Frances Drake) looked on. He offered us a ride to the gas station which he then informed us was .33 miles away. We accepted, and piled in his old Lincoln. On the way into town he overshot the gas station, and descided to make of tour out of his mistake. He showed us a good restaurant, and the gas station, and much to the girls glee, a coffee shop! (it was closed though and they never got to it.) We went back to the gas station, and filled the tanks with antiquated pumps, and Jenny payed inside a convenience store with more booze than convenience items, and Tad brought us back to the boat to drop o
ff the tanks. Along the way he told us some of his story. At one point he had owned four companys with liveaboard sailboats galore in the carribean. Tad was a big time sailor, and I would have liked to talked to him more, but he and Drake had to leave for Branson (Tads home town), so he drove us to the grocery store, and asked only for a postcard in return for his kindness. We descided to put off grocery shopping untill after we'd had some lunch. Well I did anyway. My plan was met with some resistance. The girls didn't wanna walk down the hill to the restaurant and then back up again afterwards for grocerys. It was about a five block hike. I just didn't want our ice to melt while we looked for a restaurant and ate. After some explanation they saw things my way, or atleast conceded, and we went restaurant hunting. Tad had recomended a cajun place, but it turned out to be a bar too, and it smells like they still allow smoking in Missouri bars. So we went down the street to the restaurant brewery (I know, it really doesn't sound like an improvment does it). The brewery was actually a pretty nice place with awsome food. I tryed their honey wheat beer, and wasn't thrilled with it but the food made up for it. Afterwards we hiked back up to the grocery store, and resupplied. The woman at the counter took one look at us and asked if we where related. Karla explained and the woman said she would have bet we where siblings. Apparently our eyes are the same? Must be the scandinavian influence. Next was a long uncomfortable hike back to the boat with bags (10 cents each I might add!) cutting into our fingers. It was 4 oclock by then, and we've vowed to stop motoring at five since our spotlights dead, so we descided to spend the night at the boat launch. The girls put everything away, and I retied some of our anchor ropes, and then pretty much just watched them work since there was no room for me to help, and then we walked back into town looking for coffee. Well they closed at 3, and it was after 6 by now so that plan fizzled. I still needed a spotlight bulb, but the nearest hardware store was 10 miles away acording to Garmin, so we got icecream and headed back to the boat. As we approached the boat, there was a van and a bunch of men pulled up as close to our boat as they could possibly get. I must admit I was concerned. They saw us coming, but didn't seem concerned, and when I got there I was relieved to find that they had lawn chairs set up and where fishing. We just walked right past them to the boat. I blogged for awhile and then it was time for a movie. (Die Hard 2 finally! But I fell asleep.) 
So you couldnt get the boat, the big, heavy sturdy one, unstuck from the mud...until the girls just moved to the back of the boat?.....hmmmm....interesting...
ReplyDeleteyou're such a dork.
ReplyDelete