We were up the next morning before the herons and were in and out of four locks over the course of six hours. Fall had all but faded by now and the overcast skies were intensified by the dust and smoke being emitted by the industrial plants along the route….namely the Port of Amory which was grinding up trees in massive quantities.
After traveling consistently for continuous days now, we decided to tackle some boat projects and linger for a day or two at the Columbus Marina. Captain Duane needed to tend to the alignment on the “oh so temperamental” port engine which was getting little to no playtime these days. I also had some labor intensive tasks to occupy my time as the laundry was mounting and someone had to replenish the drink supply.
The next afternoon the marina was having a Pot Luck Turkey Fry as Thanksgiving was the following week so I headed to the Farmers Market to pick up some pie and also vegetables to make a pasta salad which was my contribution to the festivities. Watching college football, we caught up with Mark, Lana and Analise while dining on the Harbormaster’s delectable deep fried turkey, dirty rice and various side dishes supplied by other cruisers. Lisa and Chris aboard BackAtcha had arrived earlier that day and we exchanged cards making plans to leave the dock at 6:30 the following morning. It was predicted to be a crisp, sunny and calm day on the water so we were headed to an anchorage —Sumter Recreational Area—which was highly recommended located well over the border into Alabama.
The Sumter anchorage definitely lived up to all the hype and more. The scenery was mesmerizing as the sounds of wildlife echoed through the trees. By sunset, the five boats which powered down the river and through the locks all day together were securely anchored in the confines of the cove…along with Bella Donna were BackAtcha, Fish Vicious, Dixie Moon and Nex T’ See. We hadn’t officially met Doug and Nancy on Fish Vicious, but they came to collect us on their dinghy to have docktails with Chris and Lisa that evening aboard their boat. Little Winston was there to greet us and Duane was head over heels for the little guy who played fetch with him most of the night. It was truly a spectacular day and a very pleasant night to round it all out.
There was frost on the deck by sunrise, but the sight of the mist glistening over the water negated the harsh temperatures so much so that I volunteered to put my gloves on and hoist the anchor. We were well on our way before the sun burnt off the fog and soon brought into focus the extraordinary White Cliffs of Epes. The Captain was so taken by the limestone formations along the Tombigbee River, we came precariously close to a huge log barreling in our direction. We were dodging and weaving through debris most of the day and let out a sigh of relief as we entered Lake Demopolis. Weary from the constant maneuvering, we were ecstatic to grab a glass of wine that evening and check in with our buddy boats once Bella Donna was gassed up and comfortable in her slip at Kingfisher Marina. In addition, as a testament to the resolve of the boating community, a wonderful couple we had never met before, Donna and Alan, just happened to be walking by us as we were discussing an issue with our engine belt and went out of their way to go pick up new belts for us while we tended to the problem of the overheating engine. New belt installed, the following day we hit the town and treated ourselves to lunch a Stacy’s Cafe accompanied by Chris and Lisa.
The next three nights required us to anchor out along the Black Warrior -Tombigbee Waterway as there were no marinas or services until Mobile, AL. Mobile was our last stop before we crossed Mobile Bay and entered the Florida Panhandle.
To our excitement, the current on the waterway was exceptional and was pushing us along at a mind blowing 9.4 mph. Considering how much commercial traffic moves up and down the waterway each day, there is so much history behind the industry and what was required and sacrificed to build up this part of the country. Today we passed the remnants of Rooster Bridge which was the sight of the Cahaba tugboat accident of 1979. Amazing no one onboard the tug was injured as it was thrown sideways going downstream and sucked under the bridge upside down.
The first sight of a beach brought cheers from my side of the flybridge as we passed Four Mile Bar. Soon after we were anchored in Turkey Shoals off Coffeeville Lake which seemed aptly named for our timing as tomorrow was Thanksgiving. Since we were right off the channel and the tow traffic would be passing closely, we kept the radio on and informed each tow captain of our whereabouts once their spotlights were visible. Ever so courteous, the few that idled by after dark, wished us safe passage and a Happy Thanksgiving. In between sleep and radio calls, we debated whether the sounds echoing through the dark were owls or wolves and were glad we didn’t have a dog to take ashore and actually find out the extent of the wildlife in the darkness.
It was a bittersweet Thanksgiving Day. This was the first family holiday we were away since we started dating and, while grateful for this amazing experience, we did miss everyone back home. Since we were in no place to have a home cooked meal, I had whipped up some turkey wraps and heated up sweet potato pies purchased a few days earlier in order to adhere to the basis of the traditional holiday meal, even though it was somewhat of a stretch. In any event, the Captain praised my efforts and thoroughly enjoyed the Thanksgiving feast. He even had a chuckle as we motored by Turkey Point while shoveling the hot off the engine pie into his mouth. Arriving at the Coffeeville Lock we were looking forward to a quick passage so we could anchor and enjoy the rest of the gorgeous day. Well that was not to be the case….the lockmaster must have been in some sort of turkey coma himself as it took him 20 minutes just to acknowledge our presence outside the lock and then an additional 40 minutes to let us in the gates. Once the water level was even, we waited 15 minutes totally bewildered as to what was going on. Duane radioed the tower to make sure the lockmaster didn’t forget about us, after which, the doors quickly opened so surely he had.
Exiting the lock we were now back at sea level. This was a true milestone for our 35 year old boat since we had entered our first lock in Troy, NY over 2,500 miles ago. But Bella Donna was right at home in the salt water. It was her crew who needed to get used to the tidal changes and saltwater air once again. After a 10 hour day, we dropped anchor at Old Lock One and watched the dusk turn into night.
Lowering Baby Belle in the morning, we took a dinghy ride through the old dilapidated lock and watched the sunrise over the horizon. Soon enough we were on our way and smack in the middle of a busy day with tows appearing around every corner. Some passed with not so much as a ripple as others created what seemed like a tsunami in their wake. This was one aspect of the travel day I will not miss in the coming days as the anticipation of passing the massive barges is beginning to wear on my nerves. Safe and sound, we anchored off in the Tensas River. Bass fishing boats were zipping around to unknown creeks in the distance and I was a little wary when one pulled up beside the boat. Noticing not only an ax but a shotgun in the boat, I was more than a little skeptical as I grabbed for my boat hook. All in all, the occupants decked out in all camouflage were a lovely couple who were curious about the Great Loop and our travels thus far. But, the New Yorker in me did rear her head back in suspicion when they requested we come with them to their camp sight 10 miles up the river. Needless to say, we politely declined as I locked and barricaded the door…dueling banjos playing over and over in my head as Duane rolled his eyes.
Four hours into our trip the following day we entered the Mobile Shipping Channel. Here we saw our first building since St. Louis, passed by a Carnival Cruise ship at the Mobile Convention Center and encountered more tows and turbulence in this industrial area than we have in the last thousand or so miles. At the end of all the mayhem was Mobile Bay and eventually the shallow narrow channel leading to Dog River Marina. We tied up in front of Next T’ See across from the local shrimp boats and were glad to be taking a breather. Walking up to the Yacht Club for dinner and to catch up on the news, we bumped into Greg and Pam from Salty Dog. It was great to see them and we were excited to be able to get together in the next few days when we returned. We had just made a last minute decision to get off the boat for a night and take the Greyhound bus to New Orleans in the morning. Can’t wait to indulge in some scrumptious beignets!
