COMPLETION

The word, "finish", according to Merriam-Webster, has many meanings.  Among them are, "to come to an end; to terminate" or "completion".  Finish is also a verb meaning to come to the end of a task or undertaking; to bring to completion or issue; to arrive at or to attain the end of.  Its origins are Middle English, Anglo-French, and Latin.  It's first known use was sometime in the 14th Century.  So what?

We finished our Great Loop.  We travelled more than 8000 miles and visited 25 different states.  We burned up more than $10,000 in fuel.  We learned history, science and technology at the places where it all happened; the places that defined our country's image, and that continue to do so.  Yeah, we trapsed around the country and visited a lot of places.  So what?

Here we are at the finish line holding our Gold Burgee and flying the flags from all the states we visited.

However, in terms of what we have done, to simply say, "we finished" completely understates the emotions associated with completion.  There are many things that went through my mind at the moment we crossed our outbound wake.  None of them, however, singularly describe how I felt.  For instance, I understood that we had completed a cruise of more than 8000 miles.  I knew we had visited 25 states.  I hearkened to the fact that we had met a plethora of wonderful people.  I comprehended that we had visited hundreds of American cities.  I grasped that we had sampled wonderful and different foods and drinks.  Yet, I am still struggling to describe what it all means. Some of my friends can understand it; those who have completed marathons, or sailed across the Pacific Ocean, passed a Bar exam, or won a hard fought trial.  Others who may know what I mean may have served in combat, or played in a championship game.  There is a certain rush accompanied by a flood of adrenaline; a sense of accomplishment; victory.  So what?

We closed our law practice.  We leased our home. We cancelled subscriptions and did not renew certain memberships.  We cruised most of the summer while living aboard Abreojos trying hard to break everything so that it could all be made right before we took off for good. We learned to live in a 41 foot world.  So what?

Then, early one morning in October 2010, we left our homeport of Channel Islands, California.  Our departure was somewhat anticlimatic.  We left without any fanfare.  Only our friend Dana came down to the end tie dock to see us off and snap a few photos as we made our way out into the Santa Barbara Channel on our trip to Marina Del Rey, California where we would meet the truck.  Our departure was, in many ways solemn, insofar as we did not know where this voyage would take us.   You don't just walk away from everything with little in the way of life lines and feel totally confident.  You certainly cannot slip your existance and expect that it will ever be the same again.  Sure we knew where we were going, but we had no idea of the enormity of it all.  You can study and plan, prepare the tools and ready to conveyance all you want.  But when the dock lines come off, and you are now moving in a direction away from all that is comfortable and real; away from your friends and family, your job, your house, and all those little things that make you basically who you are on a day to day basis, it is a little mind boggling and somewhat disconcerting.  So, off we went, into the sunrise, with a gentle breeze on our backs and a following sea.  Although it may be hard to imagine,  I was actually short on words. I had this lump in my throat, a pain in my heart, and a healthy apprehension of the unknown or the unknowable. So what?

The sunrise was spectacular.  The waters appeared purple against the orange and red sky. We enjoyed a pod of Spinner Dolphin that followed us out to Point Magu where we would turn south.  We thought to ourselves, it's going to be quite a while before we see them again.  Bye.  We saw the spout of a California Grey Whale as we rounded Point Dume and headed out across Santa Monica Bay.  I thought of my father.  Bye.  And we gazed at the Brown Pelicans and the Seagulls fading away against the backdrop of Anacapa Island as it got smaller and smaller in the distance.....in our wake.  So long.  So what?

Ever since that day in October 2010, Brenda and I have been to places we had never been before, and many we had never even heard of.  Almost every day took us to a new place. The Pacific Coast, the Gulf Coast, the Atlantic Coast, the Great Lakes, America's Western River System.  We saw some extraordinary things.  We met some of the most wonderful people.  We learned so much about our country.  We became convinced that, even with all her bruises, blemishes, warts and other problems, America is, and hopefully always will be, the greatest country on earth.  It was so exciting to see where our country was born, and visit the places where some of her most trying and difficult times came to pass.  One thing is certain, in as little time as she has had to grow up and develop, America is more than extraordinary.  She is amazing, bizzare, curious, exceptional, fantastic, inconceivable, incredible, marvelous, odd, outstanding, peculiar, phenomenal, rare, remarkable, singular, stupendous, surprising, terrific, uncommon, unimaginable, unique, and unprecedented.  But, so what?

Notwithstanding all the wonderful and heartening moments we had, none of which I would ever consider trading for anything, this trip is a challenge from beginning to end.  Almost every day we had challenges to face that we didn't really think about before.  We had to figure out how to do live in a new place:  where to anchor, where to tie up, where to find food and water, or even where to get a simple quart of milk.  We took nothing for granted.  That, my friends, is impossible on a trip like this.  It's hard to go into a new place and meet new people, and see new things, and hear new sounds, and feel new air.  But to do that almost every single day?  It's exacting.  When you get away from your world and delve into a new one on an almost daily basis, you find that you can take nothing for granted anymore.  It's formidable. And then, there is always this sense of, "what the hell am I going to do if....." and when something does go south, and you are stuck, you wonder, "how the hell am I going to deal with this", or "now what"?  It can be arduous.  Sometimes you wake up in the morning and wonder where you are.  Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night because the bilge pump is running. And of course there are those nights when you go to sleep but, come morning, you cannot remember how you got back to the boat.  OOOPS.  But, the one thing that we experienced in every place we stopped was the kindness of strangers; the willingness of folks to extend a hand, to stop and talk, to show interest in what we were doing, and to let us know that, you will never really meet a stranger in America.  Not where we were.  There is a lot of garbage out there.  But, we didn't get any on us.  Then again, so what?

When we finished the Loop, our friend Kevin on Irish Rover broke out the bagpipes and played us a cool Scottish anthem.

Some say that, there comes a point in any voyage where you have to define it.  I have learned, however, that you cannot define a voyage like this.  You have to allow it to define you.  How you manage the day-to-day, how you administer the harships, how you engineer solutions, how you design the plan, and how you engage the wonders, the beauty, and the ugliness of the world around you, are all things that are like senses.  On this voyage, our senses have become extremely accute.  Our minds have been opened in a way no time spent in a library or a theatre or in front of the television can.  Our sense of who we are and what we are made of has been opened unlike ever before.  I thought I knew something about something.  I realized just how little that was.  I thought I understood the nature of people.  Not a clue.  I thought I had an idea of what it meant to call myself an American.  I'm ashamed of how small my perspectives were.  I thought I was a pretty good yachtsman.  There is now no comparison.  I knew I could function pretty darn well in the challenging and changing, shifting, spinning, and disorienting world we live in.  You never really know what you can do until you pull a stunt like this.  I am grateful for all the experiences I had growing up; for the pearls of wisdom my father bestowed upon me; for that aggressive fighting spirit my mother instilled in me; for the steady, and steadfast application of patience I have witnessed in people like my mother and father-in-law.  I am grateful for all the "punches in the face" I have endured, and all the times I had to stand up and be a "mensch", like my father used to say.  All of this experience came to bear to help get us through the last 14 months.  I'm not complaining.  I am stating that this experience was "otherworldly" and was heightened by all of the aforementioned. It made it all that much more possible and plausible.  OK, so what?

So what?  When we crossed out outbound wake thus completing America's Great Circle Route or America's Great Loop, there was an indescribable realization that, Brenda and I are not the same people we were when we left.  That's kind of scary because, in a sense, we are not sure we know what kind of people we have become. We have accomplished something pretty big.  And, it is by no accident.  We worked our asses off.  Every day, day in and day out, making sure we garnered every benefit we could from every place we went and every person we met.  We worked hard to learn things and understand things.  We left only footprints, but took away more than mere memories.  I'm pretty sure we are better for having done what we have done.  I'm all but certain we are stronger, as partners, as friends, as lovers, as husband and wife, and in the way we will face life's challenges in the future. I think this is what it all means.  I think this is why I get all choked up thinking about it.  It's like a re-birth.  It's like a break between halves.  How do you come back from this?  I don't know.  Where do we go from here?  We don't know.  How will we view our world when we get back?  No clue.  Then again, life has beautiful lessons to share, and when you go in empty, you can come out full.  This is the most important thing we learned.  Take a "walkabout" and see what you find.  You might be inspired.

We are in Gulf Shores, Alabama at the moment.  We spent a great night in a great anchorage at Dauphin Island before coming here.  We are going to hang out here for about a week and get a grip on what we want to do next.  For now, however, I think it appropriate to close this blog for now.  I may start another one.  I may write a book, or I may write several books.  Who knows? I'll let you know.

But for now, on behalf of Brenda, Runway and Tarmac, and the rest of the crew of the mighty Abreojos, thanks for coming on this ride with us.  We hope we inspired some of you to consider stepping out of your own zone and trying something equally absurd if not more so.

Be well.  Fair winds and following seas (or lake, as my friend Harry bid us).

This is the Adventures of M/V Abreojos - America From the Port Side, signing off.  

Out.

Abreojos at anchor at Dauphin Island.

TENN-TOM - IN CONCLUSION.....DEMOPOLIS TO MOBILE

We left Demopolis under cloudy skies but with the promise of sunshine in the afternoon.  We planned to leave a day earlier, but there were too many hazardous weather advisories.  In fact, a tornado allegedly touched down only 15 miles from us.  The rain was extremely heavy and there was an awful lot of wind.  So, discretion being the better part of valor, we decided to hold fast for one more day.  It worked out fine.

After a rain storm, the weather gets really soft and nice.  Our plan was to travel to a place called Bashi Creek for the night.  Sometimes I wonder who goes into these places.  I checked out the anchorage on a number of sites and all said it was a reasonable place to be.  However, when we got there, it did not look promising.  However, we thought we'd give it a shot.  Once we nosed in and dropped our bow anchor, the wind picked up and we almost got blown onto the bank.  However, we got our stern hook down and then pulled in some of the chain on the bow to straighten out.  Unfortunately, it did not feel right.  So, we decided to try it again. 

Well, as I was trying to pull the stern anchor, I discovered it was connected to a really big log.  Luck is a strange thing.  When you want that anchor to hook on and hold, it does.  Unfortunately, the anchor took a liking to this log, so it was a real hassle getting it out of the flukes.  So, I pulled up more bow chain to hold us in place while I deployed the dinghy to get the stern hook off the log and into the boat.  It worked.  I just had to get a better pull angle on the anchor so the log would fall out.  Once that was taken care of, we finished weighing the bow anchor and had to back out.  That was dicey, but Brenda did a great job and we were back out on the river.  We circled around a bit and discussed our options.  Just outside Bashi Creek is another spot.  It's a bit more exposed, but it was in a place whee you could anchor and not get hit by a passing towboat and barge.

What you have to do is think about where and how these boats make turns. If you can stick it in the apex, the two boats will pass you at a good distance and they'll be flanking out away from you in either direction.  It's a good strategy in a pinch.

So, we spent that night out in the river.  It was very nice. 

The next morning we left and headed for the next stop on the way down, a place called Old Lock One Cutoff.  When we got there, we had to negotiate a very narrow little creek.  Fortunately, there was plenty of water under the boat, if not on either side.  It's rather disconcerting to have 25 feet under the keel, but having branches scraping the sides of the boat and leaves falling on the bow as you go into a place.  I'm thinking to myself, please God, I do not think we will be able to turn around in here, so....

Anyways, the creek opened up into this absolutely beautiful lake and we found the perfect anchor spot just north of this old lock.  There is a gorgeous park there that is owned and operated by the ACOE.  There are wonderful oak and pecan trees dripping with moss.  It was apparent we were now back in the south.  So, we hopped in the dinghy and went to short.  We tied up to an old ladder and climbed up the rip rap and started walking.  It was sunny out and perfect.

So, we're walking down this path and we come across this old guy sitting in his van which was parked in the camp host spot.  We waived and kept going.  On the way back, however, he was standing out in the trail and, as we approached, offered us two candy canes and a wish for a merry Christmas.  For a moment there, I would have sworn it was Old St. Nick.  He had a big white beard, and a jovial smile.  Although he wasn't from the north pole, he might as well have been.  He is what landlubbers call an "Itinerant Traveler."  We boating enthusiasts call it "transient."  Nevertheless, he was from North Dakota and stops a little here and there and keeps moving.  We spent some time listening to him regale us with stories of his 1200 mile walk on the Appalachian Trail.  It was Christmas Eve and the gift of a "howdy" and the candy was really cool.

In the morning, Christmas Morning, Brenda and I both awoke at the ridiculous hour of 0200.  So, what did we do?  We cranked on the genset, pulled the screen outside on deck, turned on the heater, and watched "It's a Wonderful Life".  Outside it was raining and raining and raining.  All day, it rained.  We had a great Christmas  - just the two of us, watching movies in the rain, dry and snug as a big in the proverbial rug.  I roasted a turkey and made the world's best smashed potatoes.  It was a delightful day.    So good that we stayed another night in this magical spot.  I must say that in nearly 8000 miles, this is one of the most spectacularly beautiful anchorages we have been to.

Well, in the morning, we awoke to the sounds of gun fire.  It was interesting.  The day after Christmas, and all the rednecks in the world were out on the banks of this lake, tucked neatly in their cute little camouflage duck blinds trying desperately to blow the hell out of a hapless duck.  Didn't they know Brenda likes to sleep in?  What the hell?  So, we decided it was time to get moving.  It was pretty funny.  Brenda said I should wear body armor to go out on deck to pull the anchor.  While I don't have any of that, I was hoping I at least might find one of those florescent orange hats that the ducks and deer apparently can't see.  Hunting is a strange sport.  I cannot see myself ever having the unmitigated gaul to use a firearm on a bird or Bambi.  I know lots of folks do and that's fine, but if I want a steak or a fowl, I can go to the freaking market! 

So, as we are pulling out of the anchorage, through this same little passage, I can see several of these floating duck blinds.  They weren't fooling me.  So, I wave at the guys and they just sit there pretending they were invisible.  What a joke.  Just then, Brenda spouted out one of those little pearls of wisdom we lovingly refer to as a "Brendaism".  She says, "So, when you are leaving an anchorage surrounded by duck blinds, don't get on the loud hailer and say, 'Foxworthy was right!'"  And that, my friends, is the end of that story.

We ran a long way the next day.  Due to weather in Demopolis and the wonder of a beautiful anchorage, we had to make up some distance so we would be on time to meet my friend Dan who was flying into Mobile to meet us on 12/27. We actually were very close to making it all the way there, but of course, there were the inevitable delays.  We got stuck behind two barges on hairpin turns.  I guess there is something to this.  The have to almost stop, slam it in reverse, swing the ass end around, and then let the river current catch it after they plant their nose in the opposite bank.  It takes a while.  Then, they call you on the radio and let us pass.  It works, but when you are trying to get someplace, the delays are frustrating.  Then, you get to 14mile Bridge, and this guy likes to take things real slow.  So, by the time we were in striking distance of Mobile, Alabama, and not knowing exactly where we were going, once again, discretion being the better part of valor, we held up short and anchored for the night in Tensas Cut, a mere 12 miles from Mobile.  I figure with all the steel moving around in the Mobile Harbor area, it was better to secure my fiberglass ass and not attempt it in the dark. 







We had a nice night in the Cut and moved on early in the morning those final 12 miles to Mobile.  Finding the city dock was easy.  Getting to it was hard, or should I say the landing was a little hard.  The river was flowing pretty good and there was fluky wind, so we didn't make the soft landing I am usually proud of.  No, we did not do any damage to us or to the dock, but I wouldn't be nominating that landing for the top 10 of the year.  Anyways, we got to Mobile.






Dan got there in the afternoon and it was sure great to see him.  We hung out on the boat a while and then headed out onto the town.  We had a nice dinner in a sports bar and then walked over to this club.  We put a serious dent in the city's supply of Coors Lite that night.  We laughed, danced, partied, etc. until the wee hours and then stumbled home to the boat.



In the morning, we hit the town again.  What a beautiful city Mobile is.  The downtown area is very much designed in the French fashion and looks a lot like New Orleans.  There are lots of old brick buildings with ornate metal works and balconies.  The streets are narrow and very festive.  We walked and walked all day and had lunch at the highly recommended Ok Bicycle Shop for lunch.  There the menu includes Mexican food and Sushi.  ?????  Yes, you heard me correctly.  So, a couple fish tacos later, and we were off in search of fishing licenses.  We got a cab and it took us out someplace I cannot even tell where.  But, we made it to an outdoor outfitter and took care of that business before heading back to the boat.  By this time, it was late afternoon and we were all beat so we took a break.

For dinner, we went to Wentzil's Oyster House.  We sat at the bar as the guy shucked the oysters right in front of us.  They were pretty good.  We leaned that these oysters came fresh from Louisiana each day.  I have had a few fresh oysters on this trip, but these were the best.  The walls of this place were covered with placards containing little pearls of wisdom.  Not an inch of space on the walls was open.  We read quite a few of them and laughed a lot.  It turns out one of the old guys shucking there had been shucking oysters at this place for 41 years!  This place has also been featured on more than one Food Network shows, and is the situs of a number of raw oyster eating competitions.  I'm not sure I could compete with the guy who holds the record at 42 1/2 dozen.  That's a little much slimy for me.

Well, tomorrow (or rather, later today) we will depart Mobile and head for the finish line, so to speak.  We expect to cross our outbound wake thus concluding the Loop.  We'll let you know how that goes.

More later.  Bye for now.

TENN-TOMM PART 3

Once we left Columbus, Mississippi, by mid day, we had crossed the boarder into Alabama.....again.  Alabama is probably the one state we have entered and exited more times than any other.  We entered Alabama from Mississippi last year when we crossed Mississippi Sound and crossed the south part of Mobile Bay.  We entered Alabama from the north on the Tennessee River.  And we have entered Alabama from the west on the Tenn-Tom.  We will remain in Alabama water until we cross our wake.

The White Cliffs of Epes, Alabama

 The Tenn-Tom is a man made cut, but it has all the feeling of a natural river.  It is really pretty all the way down, even though we have rarely seen the sun, it's still quite colorful.  There is a lot of barge traffic depending on the day you travel.  Believe it or not, Sunday is one of the most busy commercial traffic days;  Wednesdays are also very busy.  I think the skippers get their empties dropped off on Monday and then the full containers leave on Wednesday or Thursday.  So, by Friday, there is not that much going on.  Tuesdays are also surprisingly quiet.  I have been wondering whether or not there was any rhyme or reason to it.  I might be on to something here. But, I doubt it, really.  It doesn't make any difference unless you are trying to get through a lock.  There, commercial boats have total priority, second only to government vessels.  For some reason, the Tenn Tom is the only place since the GICW in Louisiana where we have been permitted to lock through with commercial traffic.

We left Columbus early as we wanted to get down to Demopolis in two days.  It's a pretty long run in a slow trawler and there are not many places to stop.  The water levels are about average right now, but they can change over night, so you have to be careful where you drop the hook, lest you be staying a while when the water level drops a couple feet stranding you until the next flood.

These white cliffs are located on the Tombigbee River at Epes AL. They are
part of the Selma Chalk formations which were deposited at about the
same time as England’s famous white cliffs of Dover.

We rolled along all day and enjoyed sunny skies for a change.  We saw some sights and enjoyed the natural scenery, and pulled into an anchorage called McClellan's Landing at around 3:00 p.m. and settled in for the evening.  We were surrounded by farm lands for as far as Google Earth could see and enjoyed the sounds of silence, interrupted only occasionally by the sound of a far off cow.  Even the birds were quiet.  It was sort of eerie, but it was very nice as well.

In the morning, we woke up to thick fog and a lot of ice on the boat.  It got pretty cold during the night.  It was a boots and gloves kinda morning while out on deck raising the anchor.  Nevertheless, by 6:45, the fog was gone enough so we could see, and so we took off for Demopolis, a little more than 60 nm south.

Unfortunately, just before we left, and confirmed on the AIS, a towboat and barge had the same idea.  It took a couple hours, but we finally caught up to him and got close enough to pass.  So, we had the conversation and once everything was ready, we stomped on the old squirrel and started passing.  This barge was only moving 6.5 knots, and we were moving only a little faster.  The differential between us was only a couple knots, so you can imagine how slow this pass seemed.  The barge was not going to pull back as we were coming into a slight bend to the left.  This worked out because to make the turn, the barge flanks out to the right while keeping the nose of the furthest barge somewhere near the center or left side of the waterway.  It's like using a fulcrum to bend around a corner.  Turn the nose slightly to the left, Starboard engine hard forward, port engine hard in reverse, flanking engine engaged.  It's a very cool and slippery maneuver to watch.  The barge is almost 700 feet long and the waterway (the usable waterway - the channel) is only a little more than 200 feet wide.  So, it takes a little seamanship to make tight turns.

Well, we got by and bid farewell, suspecting that we would see him again when we got to the next lock.  Of course, we did.  When we were approaching the Tom Bevil Lock, we called and the lock master was going to turn around the chamber and drop us through.  Then the barge called and the conversation went from what side he wanted us to tie up on to could we move out of the way and hang over to the side so the barge could get into the chamber.  Now we had to start thinking about alternatives as this was likely to cause us an hour delay in terms of our planned destination and there was a real concern that it was going to get dark on us before we got there.  However, the lock master called the towboat and asked if he'd mind if we rode down in the chamber with him.  No problem, was the reply, but he would have to leave the lock first.

Demopolis Yacht Basin

The configuration of the barges pushed by this towboat was as follows.  2-2-3.  So he had three up top.  When he went into the box, he had literally inches on either side of the three.  So, we went into the chamber and tied up just

Now that we were both out of the lock, we asked to pass him again.  So, again, we stepped on the old squirrel and rolled as quickly as possible past the rig and back out into open water again.  We were talking with the barge while we were in the lock and had everything arranged.  I knew, however, that he was going to Demopolis.  So, without having said anything, I had also thought about just falling in behind him and following him all the way down if it had become dark out.  That was my third back up plan, and frankly, not a good one at that considering how much stuff those guys dig up and kick up from the bottom when they go by, and especially in the turns.  I'm trying very hard to get down this river without hitting anything.

We arrived in Demopolis with plenty of daylight left so we stopped first at the fuel dock and topped off, before going to our slip.  We had planned to stay here a couple days to get some things done and to rest up a bit.  From the way the cruising guides describe Demopolis, you would think you were going to heaven.  Well, it's not really like that at all.  The folks who run the marina are some of the nicest and friendliest and most helpful folks we have ever met.  But, the marina and the grounds are a little more commercial than originally anticipated.  Here, there is a fuel dock where tow boats stop to fuel and provision.  One of the guys who works here was telling us what kind of fuel the tow boats take on.  It's pretty staggering.  I mean, I wasn't surprised when he told us that the one that just left took 45,000 gallons of diesel.  I simply experienced a small coronary attack when I thought of what the company bill would look like.  Then, if you understand that this should last a couple weeks, and that they will be filling up again before the month is out, and understand that this is now 90,000 gallons for this boat in a month, and if the company owns 10 boats, all working, that's 900,000 gallons per month, and at even a discounted rate, that's one hell of a lot of dineros.  I simply cannot understand how that gets paid for if your company specializes in hauling rock and gravel.

So, we got to our slip and ran into an old friend whom we met at GTB a couple months ago.  Kevin on Irish Rover is still out here making his way south.  He likes to stop in places for a long time.  Actually, he has been plagued with mechanical issues that have compelled him to stay places for a long time.  But, he is cheerfully optimistic that, in the not too distant future, his boat will experience salt water for the first time.  It was good to see him and we had a nice time in the bar that evening catching up.

The marina offers a courtesy car so we had a chance or two to get out of the marina and check out the town.  Unfortunately, it is not good news.  What was once arguably a very quaint and beautiful downtown area, is now the epitome of what happens when a WalMart moves in nearby, and the state routes a highway away from the city.  Downtown Demopolis is basically on life support and is about dead from the neck up.  What was once the theatre district is now mostly boarded up.  The old buildings are rotting.  There are only a couple stores open.  The rest are all closed and gone.  The guide said there had been a number of beautification projects and that they were apparent.  Well, here's a little advice to the editor - go there and see it for yourself.  It's not true.  There is a park in the center of town that looks nice.  And, the government buildings, City Hall, Roster Hall, and the courthouse, look nice, but it would appear the local government is sucking up all the funds and using them for their own facilities while all the privately owned real estate near by is falling into a state of true disrepair.  There are hints of greatness, but you have to dig through the ivy to see them.

The rest of Demopolis exists on the banks of the state highway that runs outside the town.  There is of course, WalMart, and then there is every fast food restaurant you could possibly want.  That's about it for Demopolis.  It would have been nice to find a local museum to describe the local history and lore.  But alas, it was not to be.  Most of the folks in the area live on government handouts and other entitlements.  There are a lot more people than there are jobs.  Its a very depressing place in stark contrast to other towns in Alabama we have really enjoyed.

Ok, this is not a baseball field.  It is not a football field.  It is not a soccer field.  It is a BBQ field!  Imagine the grassy area filled with BBQ competitors.  Seriously.  There are gas hookups and electrical hookups all over the field.

So, now that the laundry is done and a few other chores have been completed, we will be leaving this place and heading south.  In about 6 days, we will be picking up my friend Dan who is flying out to Mobile and who will ride with us as we cross our wake and complete the Great Circle Route.  No we are not coming home just yet.  Our house is leased until May 31.  So, we will have some time on our hands to keep cruising for a while and to contemplate what is next for Larry and Brenda.  In the mean time, we'll keep writing this dribble until the loop has been closed.

Too all our friends and family, at home and abroad, have a blessed holiday season, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy New Year.  May all your wishes come true.

Bye Y'all.

TENNESSEE-TOMBIGBEE WATERWAY PART 2 - COLUMBUS, MISSISSIPPI

The town of Columbus, Mississippi is almost completely surrounded by water. It is situated at the juncture of three rivers: the Tombigbee, The Buttahatchie, and the Luxapalila.  We got here by turning left off the Tenn-Tom and proceeding about 2.5 miles up the Tombigbee River.  We anchored 50 feet from the dinghy dock in front of Memorial Park.

Columbus is a town steeped in interesting historical tidbits I had never known.  For instance, Columbus has not always been named Columbus.  Before its formal incorporation back in the 1820's, it had been known by the local Native Americans as "Possum's Town."    It is said that Hernando De Soto crossed the Tombigbee River nearby in his search for El Dorado.  During the Civil War, Columbus was where the Confederate Army maintained an arsenal that made gunpowder, guns and cannons.  Columbus was also a hospital town where many Confederate and Union soldiers received care for wounds inflicted in various battles including the Battle of Shiloh.  Interestingly, because of its status as a hospital town, the town itself was spared much of the devastation of the war seen in other towns along the way.  As such, Columbus has many absolutely stunning antebellum homes.  As such, one of the best things to do in Columbus is walk the streets and see these gorgeous mansions.  Practically the whole downtown area is one big historic landmark.

Columbus is the place where American playwright, Tennessee Williams was born and where he lived for the early part of his life.  His home is now the community's Visitor and Information Center.  The house belonged to Williams' grandfather who was the leader of the local Episcopal Church.  It was the rectory.  However, many years later, when the church was looking to expand and install new buildings, including a big center for children, the house was going to be bulldozed.  The City of Columbus, however, rescued the home, put it on a trailer and moved it right up front on Main Street where it serves visitors today.  We met a really nice woman who volunteers her time working here and she made it very clear that we were welcome guests.

While Tennessee Williams is one of the most famous persons to come out of Columbus, there are others as well, including Red Barber, the baseball announcer, and Henry Armstrong, the first boxer to ever have world championships in three different divisions at the same time. 

Columbus is also a place where you can get great food.  While Brenda and I didn't sample that much of the local fare, no trip through Mississippi would be complete without the obligatory fried catfish, with fried shrimp, hush puppies, mac-and-cheese, and coleslaw.  Oh and don't forget the deep fried pickles.  What a treat.

For me, however, the most interesting and important thing I learned about Columbus is that it is where Memorial Day originated.  After the Civil War, women of the town decorated the graves of both Confederate and Union soldiers.  This event became known as Decoration Day and first began in 1866.

This is the house known as Twelve Gables.

In 1866, a group of Columbus women met in the home Twelve Gables to decide on a way to honor the Confederate war dead in the local Oddfellows Cemetery. They decided on a date to meet, walk to the cemetery and decorate the graves with flowers from their gardens. Once they arrived, one of the women began placing flowers on the graves of the few Union soldiers, too, for they also had given their lives for their beliefs. Other women followed suit, and soon, all the graves -- Confederate and Union -- had flowers. This generous gesture was told and re-told, and finally made its way to the New York Tribune, where the short article was seen by young attorney Francis Miles Finch. He was so moved by the generosity of the Southern ladies and their Decoration Day, he wrote the poem, "The Blue and the Gray," and it was published in the Atlantic Monthly in September 1867.

Other towns may claim Decoration Day, perhaps earlier than the one in Columbus, but Columbus was the first to honor former enemies as well as their own. Here's what the Library of Congress said: "Columbus, Mississippi, thus, can rightly claim to be not only one day ahead of Columbus, Georgia, in its observance of Memorial Day, but more generous in its distribution of the tributes of honor
and mourning."  What began as a solemn occasion in Columbus, Mississippi in April 1866 has evolved into the nation's Memorial Day, now officially observed each May.

You might think it odd or morose that Brenda and I have visited so many cemeteries on this journey.  But I'll tell you this.  Like it or not, not a decade has gone by since her birth that America has not been at war somewhere, and almost always, in defense of the freedom of someone else.  So, when you go to these cemeteries and see the graves of so many young men who died in battle, it is a poignant and heart grabbing reminder of the sacrifices so many have made for what they believed in, and in so many cases, for the freedoms we enjoy today.  I don't care what you think.  To me, America today is the land of the free because it has always been the home of the brave. Politics don't matter to me.  That a man sacrifices his life in defense of his country or his way of life is more noble than any political act in history.  War is a terrible thing resulting directly from the failure of politics and diplomacy.  And so there are fields and fields of dead men all across this great land of ours who time simply should not forget.  Because when we forget these brave souls, we lose sight of everything that is important. America's history is in these fields and beneath these stones.  Not just her history, but her humanity and everything she stands for.

The Blue And The GrayFrancis Miles Finch (1827-1907)

By the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, Asleep are the ranks of the dead: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment-day; Under the one, the Blue, Under the other, the Gray. These in the robings of glory, Those in the gloom of defeat, All with the battle-blood gory, In the dusk of eternity meet: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgement-day Under the laurel, the Blue, Under the willow, the Gray. From the silence of sorrowful hours The desolate mourners go, Lovingly laden with flowers Alike for the friend and the foe; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgement-day; Under the roses, the Blue, Under the lilies, the Gray. So with an equal splendor, The morning sun-rays fall, With a touch impartially tender, On the blossoms blooming for all: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment-day; Broidered with gold, the Blue, Mellowed with gold, the Gray. So, when the summer calleth, On forest and field of grain, With an equal murmur falleth The cooling drip of the rain: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment -day, Wet with the rain, the Blue Wet with the rain, the Gray. Sadly, but not with upbraiding, The generous deed was done, In the storm of the years that are fading No braver battle was won: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment-day; Under the blossoms, the Blue, Under the garlands, the Gray. No more shall the war cry sever, Or the winding rivers be red; They banish our anger forever When they laurel the graves of our dead! Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment-day, Love and tears for the Blue, Tears and love for the Gray.

THE TENNESSEE-TOMBIGBEE WATERWAY - PART 1

We Are now making our way south down the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway, better known as the Tenn-Tom.  It is absolutely beautiful, in spite of questionable weather.  Then again, it is winter.  I have thought a lot about this phase of the cruise as it is truly our last leg before we close our circle at the point where the Mobile Ship Channel intersects the Gulf Intercoastal Waterway.  So many cruisers rush through this leg and miss so much.  I am not prepared to do that, although admittedly, there is not a whole lot to do if you are one of those cruisers who thrives on nightlife and other excitement.  However, it is far from boring and desolate. 

Here you can see the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway in red.

After leaving Grand Harbor in Iuka, MS, for what we believe will probably be the last time, we headed south down Yellow Creek to the mouth of the TTW.  Here, you enter into a man made ditch that runs 25 miles and then opens up into Bay Springs Lake.  All along the waterway there is beautiful forest and an abundance of wildlife.  We saw at least two kinds of Eagles as well as gulls, turns, and a variety of black birds, the names of which we are unaware.  The environs are clearly man made as the sides of the river are terraced – up, up, and up.  We were running in around 15 feet of water and the terraces went close to 100 feet up.  It’s hard to imagine that there could be that much water in here. 

In that regard, it is interesting how the rain all flows to the rivers.  You don’t recognize this as much when you live in a concrete jungle like LA or even Ventura and Santa Barbara.  There, there are nice and orderly gutters that take the rain to nice and orderly run off canals and then out to the ocean.  Here, however, the water flows off the land and almost always, directly into the rivers, creeks, streams, etc., until all of it flows into the Mississippi and then ultimately, into the Gulf of Mexico.  It’s just very different.  We are running on the rivers and have noticed over the last few months how the weather affects us in very different ways than it does on the ocean.  Basically, it comes down to this:  No matter how much it rains, the water level on the Pacific Ocean does not change.

So, we have only done a small part of the TTW.  The TTW runs basically from the intersection of the Tennessee River and the Yellow Creek, all the way down to Mobile Bay.  This is about 450 miles.  Most of it is all natural, al beit now controlled with dams and locks.  It is hardly just a straight line, either.  Rather, and especially down towards the bottom where it flows into Mobile Bay, it is full of bends and curves.  I think the designers of the TTW took some lessons from the mistakes Distler made when he designed the Okeechobee Waterway.  If you run it too straight, the river will not be able to take care of itself and pollution and polluted runoff will become a serious problem.   In any event, the canal I described above is a small part of all of this.  Actually, at this point, we are in the “Chain of Lakes” section of the TTW.

We stopped at a place called Bay Springs where there is a TTW Visitors Center.  This was in any event a logical stopping point for the day.  It included a perfect anchorage way back in a protected finger off Bay Springs Lake.  We hopped in the dinghy and found the dinghy dock to the Visitors Center which was on the Lake just above the Bay Springs Lock.

The visitors center featured a great model showing the whole of the TTW from Yellow Creek all the way to Demopolis, Alabama and included recorded descriptions and explanations.  We learned a lot.  For instance, frankly, before starting planning this trip, I had never even heard of the TTW, yet, it was the biggest project ever undertaken by the Army Corps Of Engineers.  Furthermore, in spite of its relative anonymity, more earth was moved in the construction of the TTW than in the construction of the Panama Canal.  Actually, the TTW brings together 12 rivers into a single navigable system.  There are three sections:  River, Canal and Divide.  There are 10 Locks and dams that raise vessels the 341 feet to travel from Demopolis in the south, north to the Tennessee River.  The whole point in the construction of the TTW was to shorten the water route from the Tennessee, Ohio and Upper Mississippi River Systems to the Gulf Coast.  The TTW encompasses more than 16,000 miles of navigable inland waters.  Believe it or not, the TTW was only opened in 1985. 

No, that is not a prison.  This is the Bay Springs Lock and Dam Complex

We spent about an hour at the visitors center learning about this amazing waterway and then headed out on what is called the Overlook Trail which takes you on a nice long walk through the forest all the way to the Bay Springs Lock and Dam, aka Whitten Lock and Dam.  They handed us a pamphlet that identified a number of trees and other bushes that are commonly found in this area.    Other than to the trained eye, both, or should I say many, species appear the same at this time of the year – all bald. 

So, we followed the trail a little further and it lead us to an old cabin built entirely of old hand working implements back in 1860 in the Paden, Mississippi area.  and which was moved here when the TTW was built to save it from the inevitable flooding.  It was interesting to see this house and to read of its history.  This house is not merely a model, but actually belonged to a family that lived here many years ago.  It’s hard to believe so many folks lived together in such a small space.

Bay Springs was a great stop.  It got us off on the right foot for the rest of the trip down the TTW.

The following day, it was my intention to leave early and pass through at least 4 locks and get down to the town of Smithville.  Ever visited Smithville, Mississippi?  Neither have we so it seemed like a reasonable thing to do.  Plus, there is an anchorage right next to the lock that is described as one of the best in the area.  Unfortunately, when I turned on the computer as we were getting ready to leave, I noticed that the AIS showed a vessel approaching the lock from down below.  Well, that meant delay.  So, I called the lock on the radio and asked if we would be able to lock through when this boat was through the chamber.  Then, he told me it would be a while as he had another boat coming up, and another heading south that was due to arrive “pretty soon”.  So, it was going to be almost two hours before we could leave.

We have been doing this lock thing for long enough to know that you have to add almost an hour to your day’s journey for every lock just to be on the safe side of cruise planning.  Today, we had planned to make it through 4 locks.  This means add 4 hours.  So, although we planned only to go 35 miles, add to that the time it takes to get through 4 locks and it’s going to be a pretty long day.  We really did not know how long it would turn out to be.

We were permitted to lock down with this towboat and barge.  This was the first time since last year we could be in the box with a commercial boat.  He was just shovin' loads of rock, so there was really no risk.  At least, there was no risk once he was tied up and his engines in neutral.  We slid in there along side and tied up and they let us out first.  I had to be real careful so I wouldn't scratch his boat.  Ha!

The weather has been simply malevolent.  All day long it rained on and off.  The wind blew on and off.  And then there was the fog.  Couple some rather tough weather conditions with longer than anticipated delays at the locks and we had a very long day.  We had originally planned to get into Smithville at around 2:00 in the afternoon.  We did not get here until nearly 5:00 p.m.  It was getting dark and the fog got really thick all of a sudden.  So thick, that we could hardly see the front of the boat, not to mention our way into an anchorage we had never been in before.  So, it was interesting to say the least,  but, inasmuch as I am in fact writing this, we made it just fine. 

We never did make it in to visit Smithville.  It was too rainy and forecast to stay that way for the next day or so and thus we decided to keep moving south.

Now, it is very early in the morning and I am hoping to make it to Columbus, Mississippi today.  We have been anchored out the last few and would like to take in some sights, so we might just take a spot in a marina near Columbus and see what happens.  The weather is shit right now and that makes it hard to get too enthusiastic about anything.  We’ll see.

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We had a pretty interesting day rolling down to Columbus.  For the most part it was pretty straight forward.  4 locks, but at least the rain showers turned off. 

Actually, for Runway, the day's trip was pretty boring.

First thing in the morning I awaken and check our position.  It would appear we swung over a little closer to the bank than I was comfortable with.  We were still floating so all was not that bad.  Nevertheless, it was light out (well, almost) so I woke Brenda and started the engine.  We moved out of there and back into the main channel lickety split and called the lock for a trip down.  They were ready for us and off we went.  It was raining and foggy, but the weather service (National Whatever Service) said it would get better.

Well, get better it did.  While the sun never quite showed itself, it cooled down (a shift in the wind to the north signaling the end of the rain for a while) and the wind settled quite a bit as well.

After the fourth lock of the day, we turned left onto the Tombigbee River (sort of an oxbow the TTW runs through now) for a two mile jaunt up to the town of Columbus, Mississippi.  We decided to forego the fancy marina which I had heard nothing but good things about, in order to anchor right in front of the town.  Actually, we are anchored right in front of the area that is the "downtown" area complete with all the historic buildings including the home of Tennessee Williams, the great American playwright.  We got in sort of early so we laid around for a little bit and then took off in the dinghy for the 50 foot row to the dinghy dock (no point in putting on the engine for 50 feet).  In any event, we went to dinner and decided we would stay another day.  So, we'll explore the place a bit and then move on.  I'm sure I'll have more to say later. 

So, more later.....