Weather forecast for October 16, 2017:
Bay Springs Marina, Bay Springs Lake, Booneville, Mississippi
Partly cloudy, low 63 high 75.
Captain’s Log: October 15, 2017
Cincinnati to Mobile: Part 2
Kentucky Lake to Bay Springs Lake (225 miles):
We have spent two days at Green Turtle Bay, relaxing and catching up with friends Steve and Judy from s/v Norm Gaest and Al and Doris from s/v OKbayou. It is time to get underway. We slip the dock lines at daybreak, slowly navigate through the narrow and twisted marina channel, cruise through the Barkley Canal and make a big left turn on Kentucky Lake.
Activity onboard settles down and the familiar monotony of a slow ride creeps into the cockpit, but I rise to the occasion. I am reminded of the lyrics of an old Moody Blues tune called 'The Best Way to Travel'. . .
“And you can fly High as a kite, if you want to Faster than light, if you want to Speeding through the universe
Thinking is the best way to travel”
The Caribbean-blue sky of a crystal clear morning invigorates the soul as we glide south across the clean, glassy-smooth water of the Lake at 9mph. The bow wave created by our big, beautiful, powerful Perfect Love radiates astern, unbroken as far as the eye can see. For now, we are alone on the Lake; not another vessel, or human, in sight.
My XO is busy on her computer below deck, managing resources on a production line in a manufacturing plant that populates a very different universe. I am completely alone in paradise for a few precious moments.
The Lake, a man-made marvel, is long, wide and stunning. I can discern the curvature of the earth as the superstructure of a north-bound towboat slowly rises from the distant water horizon. The beauty of the good Earth surrounds me; there could be no better place in which to ponder the meaning of life; to think.
"Why, then, the world's mine oyster, which I, with sword, will open."
How did I end up here? Why am I so lucky? Is there some mysterious path, a sacred series of steps that, if religiously followed, will turn the dream into a reality? If so, how did I manage to navigate that path?
A quick and shallow analysis of the random milestones of my life provides no further insight. High school, college, marriage (maybe a few), divorce (maybe a few), the death of loved ones, the birth of children, the gift of grand children, houses, career, retirement; all of us experience some of, or all of, or more of these non-linear and, in some cases, repetitive events. They are unique to each individual, and mine, for the moment, provide no answers to my questions.
How did I end up here? Why am I so lucky? God only knows, but I thoroughly enjoy this pleasant pondering as the time and miles slip by.
“We ride the waves Distance is gone, will we find out? How life began, will be find out? Speeding through the universe
Thinking is the best way to travel”
Clouds have slowly gathered. Bright sunshine occasionally breaks through lighter patches overhead as we prepare to plunge into the haze that blankets the Lake to the south. The motor yacht Water Music, it’s jet ski sitting on the aft swim platform, goes flying by and is soon lost in the rain-obscured distance.
Really good boat names, clever, unique names, are few and far between. Water Music is one of the best that I have seen. It quickly becomes one of my favorites as I am suddenly gliding down the River Thames in the late spring of 1717 on King George the First's ornate river barge while the horn fanfares, the oboes and bassoons of George Frideric Handel’s Water Music fill the air.
Another favorite name of mine is Free Radical; such a great, great name! The dictionary definition is “an uncharged molecule, typically highly reactive and short lived”. My definition proudly, bodaciously, and without embarrassment or shame, proclaims “I am unsupervised and I make things up!”. I just love that name.
“It's all a dream Light passing by on the screen And there's you and I on the beam Speeding through the universe Thinking is the best way to travel”
What a great day!
The broad Lake has now given way to a narrower waterway as tree-covered islands join hands beneath the shallows to starboard. It is time to start thinking about an anchorage. With the intense night-approach to Green Turtle Bay still fresh in our minds, we are determined to be stationary in a secure location well before sunset.
Shirley has had a long day. Her Zanesville, Ohio plant has descended into chaos and she has been doing her level best to get her arms around the issues and to formulate a plan of attack. I thank the Gods, every God that I can think of, that Shirley has had solid internet connectivity throughout the day. She can be a bit difficult when technology prevents her from working.
We are now sitting quietly in a secluded and beautiful spot on Birdsong Creek; mile marker 104 on the Tennessee River. Our big Rocna 40 anchor is down and holding fast. The engine is off, the battery charge has been checked and the logbook has been updated with engine hours and distance traveled. It is time to enjoy our new favorite adult beverage, Old Fashions, on the quarterdeck couch before dinner.
We will sleep like babies tonight. I look forward to doing it all over again tomorrow . . .
I am up at 6:00, just before sunrise, and I am faced with my first challenge of the day. Perfect Love is 47ft long and draws six feet; the creek is approximately 80ft wide and we are sitting in seven feet of water. I have to turn our beautiful boat around without making any forward progress or I may run aground. I formulate my plan.
The sun rises and, shortly there after, the anchor follows. I execute a flawless back-and-fill maneuver, without the aid of our bow thruster, and we are soon on the sailing line of the Tennessee River heading south. I am secretly pleased, maybe extremely pleased, with myself.
More time to think . . .
. . . why have we embraced this unconventional lifestyle?
On the negative side of the ledger: cruising is not always comfortable and it can be dangerous. It is a lot of work and it requires a heavy dose of self-reliance. There is no place for laziness and carelessness can be deadly. It is certainly unpredictable and it often demands flexibility/agility of thought and action. It can make one feel isolated from the rest of the world and it regularly exposes one to the rawness of nature, especially the weather.
On the positive side: Discomfort is not necessarily a bad thing, especially if it is an unavoidable ingredient of a great adventure. Each sunrise brings with it a delicious uncertainty; every day is different and challenging; every day is a unique and unanticipated learning experience. Personal growth is unavoidable; increased self-confidence is guaranteed and there is the indescribable satisfaction of knowing that you have faced and have overcome all of the challenges that the elements have thrown at you since you last hauled anchor. You are immersed in nature and have harnessed her, to a small degree, to achieve your goal of getting from point A to point B. You are reminded of and can celebrate your independence every single day. It is very easy to escape the madness of our toxic culture; political extremists, social justice lunatics, corrupt politicians and a dishonest media can be left in your wake.
“Speeding through the universe Thinking is the best way to travel”
Another day of musing while watching the verdant shorelines pass by and, as late afternoon approaches, we ease into a beautiful anchorage behind Swallow Bluff Island; mile marker 170 on the Tennessee River. Soon we are joined by m/v Francesca, but she heads much deeper into the anchorage and does not intrude into our space. From this spot we have an unobstructed view of the sunset, and the sunrise.
The Tennessee River, once known as the Cherokee River, is the largest tributary of the Ohio River and flows generally north and west according to the compass. The Tombigbee River is a tributary of the Mobile River and flows almost due south, ultimately emptying into Mobile Bay on the Gulf of Mexico. On any river system, the downstream or descending flow is always to the south, regardless of the compass direction of the flow.
So, while traveling upstream on the Tenneesee, in a southerly compass direction, towards Mobile, Alabama, one is actually heading north (in river terms) while traveling downstream on the Tombigbee, in a southerly compass direction, towards Mobile, Alabama, one is heading south (in river terms). Got it?
We learned this peculiarity the hard way a few miles downstream of the Pickwick Lock. We were preparing to pass Butter Bean, a north-bound tow (according to the compass; the tow was traveling against the flow, we were traveling with the flow).
I hailed the tow with my customary salutation: “Butter Bean, Butter Bean, this is southbound sailing vessel Perfect Love, do you want to see me on the one or on the two” (when passing a tow that is moving in the opposite direction, ‘one’ means pass port-to-port, ‘two’ means pass starboard-to-starboard).
Butter Bean replied in a somewhat perturbed tone: “Perfect Love, I am southbound, you are northbound. I will see you on the one”.
Roger that! I was completely confused, not to mention embarrassed. I am generally pretty good at knowing which compass point I am facing. I was certain that we were traveling south; we are in Tennessee, heading to Alabama, that is south, right?
Later, at Grand Harbor Marina on Pickwick Lake, I shared my embarrassment with a more seasoned cruiser who graciously clarified things for me.
We arrived at Grand Harbor in the afternoon and, after securing the boat and topping off the fuel and water tanks, we took a stroll around the marina. In the process we met a few cruisers who where doing the Great Loop. They had just returned from a tour of the Civil War battlefield of Pittsburg Landing, also known as the Battle of Shiloh. We learned that the battlefield was only about 20 miles from the marina.
I love history, especially American history, so I quickly secured the courtesy car for the next morning with the intention of spending the day touring Shiloh. That evening, after running up to a convenience store for some milk and a few other essentials, we hit the sack anticipating another great day of exploration.
As usual, I am awake at dawn. I am anxious to get to Shiloh. In contrast, the XO is not very ‘perky’ in the early morning; it usually takes her about 30 minutes and at least on cup of coffee to get in gear. As she is slowly coming to life I am organizing a few things for the excursion when I realize that I can’t find my wallet.
After about ten minutes of searching I engage Shirley. Together we tear the place apart; no wallet. We check the courtesy car that we used last night; no wallet. We check the marina office to see if anyone has turned in a missing wallet; no wallet. We do it all over again; still no wallet. We backtrack every move that we made the previous evening and come to the conclusion that I must have left it on the roof of the car as we were leaving the convenience store. We drive to the store; no wallet.
A promising morning has turned into a nightmarish hassle but I am determined to salvage the afternoon. The cash is history and I will have to cancel all of the credit cards. Replacing my Ohio driver’s license will be problematic as we technically do not have a state of residency. Nevertheless, we are going to Shiloh!
Just before leaving the boat my wonderful XO remembers that I had cereal for breakfast and that she put milk in her coffee. She opens the refrigerator, moves the milk carton and a few other things around, and finds my wallet. It had somehow fallen into the refrigerator and neither of us had noticed it. Cold Cash!
Shiloh was a moving experience for me, but not for Shirley. Unfortunately, her Zanesville plant had a huge staffing issue and she ended up sitting in the car, working on her phone and laptop, the entire time. I walked the battlefield alone, marveling at the monuments and imagining what it must have been like. Somehow the Confederates snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. The South lost General Albert Sidney Johnston, its best commander. The North, Ulysses S. Grant and William Tecumseh Sherman took the day and Grant’s reputation as the Union's best fighting general solidified.
We had a very pleasant surprise on our second day at Grand Harbor. Shirley’s nephew Jeff and his wife Kendra drove the 80 miles from Lawrenceburg, Tennessee, to visit us. Shirley’s son Josh, who was travelling through Tennessee on his way to an automotive plant in Alabama, also joined us. We had a wonderful dinner at Freddy T’s restaurant after which we all retired to the boat and had a few drinks over good conversation. Kendra and Jeff left for Lawrenceburg just before midnight, over protestations from us to stay the night; Josh did spend the night. Early the next morning Josh continued on his way as we pulled out, heading for Bay Springs Lake.
Until next time, may your tomorrow bring fair winds and following seas!