FROM LAKE CHARLES TO MORGAN CITY

We left Lake Charles a little late. The wind was blowing really hard and we were doubtful of whether or not we should go. The wind seemed to level off at around 18 knots and was slated to drop in the afternoon. So, knowing we would be running in the relatively protected waters of the GICWW with no lakes or bays to cross, we decided to make a go of it. So we picked up the anchor and split.
I mentioned it once before in connection with the bottom of Offetts Bayou, but I think it is worth mentioning again. The bottom composition everywhere we have anchored is the sickest looking and gooiest nasty mud I have ever seen anywhere. It has gotten to the point where we don’t even worry about the mess on the bow anymore, because there is simply nothing we can do about it. I have a washdown hose on the bow, but it seems that anything short of a firehose will not even move the mud off the chain. Every cruising guide I have looked at mentions nothing about the mud in this region. Fortunately, the Bruce seems to like it, but what a mess! When we get to New Orleans, we will have a couple days to regroup and clean up the mess. Until then, we will just deal with it.

The day we departed Lake Charles, our planned destination was a beautiful ox bow anchorage in the lower part of the Mermentau River. It was only a 56 nm run, but it took longer than anticipated. We got stuck following a slow moving barge or two through some narrow areas where barges were passing in the opposite direction preventing us from passing. Additionally, we got stuck waiting at the Calcasieu Locks.

Calcasieu River Lock (Entrance)

Going into the Calcasieu River Lock.  The lock is 1140 feet long.

Per the instructions, we called when we got close and requested lock through. The lock tender simply told us to stay out of the way and wait our turn; that he would call us and let us know when it would be open for us. On the AIS, we could see that there was at least one barge on the other side going into the lock and one behind it. So, we waited. After nearly an hour, the lock tender called us and asked us if we were ready. We pulled our anchor and proceeded in. Fortunately, we got in and got out fast as there were large barges pulling up behind us. The barges wait by simply running up on the mud bank. We can’t do that. They have
so much horse power that they can easily pull off, straighten out and move on forward.


When our little plastic ship goes into the lock, they don't even

bother having us tie off.  Rather, they tell us to go into the middle

of the lock and simply hold position.  Simply hold position? 

Alot easier said than done, let me tell you.


I have mentioned it before, but you really have to see them to understand just how big they are. In Texas, it was not unusual to see a large barge pushing a 6-pack. In Louisiana, we have seen a number of barges pushing 4 regulation loads strung out. Do the math – that’s a 90 foot barge, and 4-250 foot barges. Assuming my math is correct, that’s 1090 feet. Now, keep in mind they are also 40 feet wide. Yes, that’s 1090 by 40. You can’t imagine how these things must bend and move when being pushed from behind. Imagine trying to push a floating piece of spaghetti in a straight line.

Just after exiting the lock, you pass through a cable swing bridge.  You have to coordinate the bridge opening while you are in the lock, while you are holding position in the middle.  It's a lot to do.

This is part of the swing bridge.



This guy had a really bad day.


After we got through the Calcasieu Lock, everything was pretty much normal. We were late getting into the Mermentau River and dropped the hook just as it was getting dark. As a RULE we do not run at night. It is way to hazardous to do so unless you are intimately familiar with the waterways. There are just too many things that can go wrong so that adding complete and total darkness to the equation makes running at night …….. well, just “fagetaboutit.”

When we got into the river, we were treated to a spectacular sunset. The ox box where we anchored was surrounded by cypress trees with their knees exposed. It was really cool. The wind was from the north east, so we tucked in behind the island forming the ox bow and dropped anchor in 17 feet. Yes, 17 feet! That’s actually double digits for a change. We had a long day, so we turned in after dinner and a movie.

Sunset over the Mermentau River.

We left the Mermentau River as we came and headed further east.

You may not be able to see it real well, but all those black spots in the sky are birds.

That bird in the tree is an Eagle.

The next planned stop was Shell Morgan Landing in Intercoastal City (aka Albeville), Louisiana.




And they call this a "marina."

They have a fuel dock there that has the cheapest fuel on the Gulf Coast. So, we couldn’t pass it up. They also had a nice bulkhead we could tie to for the night. We had planned to fuel and then leave for Bayou Petite Anse (Little Cove), but again, we were delayed all day by slow barges and having to go through the Leland Bowman Locks as well as a couple of swing bridges that were slow to open.

Entering Leland-Bowman Lock



Leaving Leland-Bowman Lock



By the time we got fuel, it was nearly 3:30 p.m. and although we had only another 14 miles to get to Bayou Petite Anse, another possible delay meant we would be going into the bayou at or near dark. So, we paid $20 bucks and spent the night on the bulkhead across from the fuel dock. We actually had 30 amp electrical, and we filled our water tanks.

This is where we were docked.  You can probably see how far the back of the boat is from the bulkhead.

Tying to this bulkhead was interesting insofar as the tide was not really low, but we heard someone complaining that they did not have any water in the area for over a week. Up here, tides are not as influential as the effect of the wind on the water levels. When it blows from the north, the bays tend to lose water. You see the effect on the waterways in the form of mud banks and exposed roots of trees lining the banks. Needless to say, the fact we just took on 100 gallons of water and a hundred gallons of fuel, we were as heavy as we get. As such, only the front end of the boat was close to the bulkhead while the ass-end was about 6 feet out. There was only about 3.5 feet of water against the wall and we were pushing mud getting up to the dock. So, we tied up the way we were and plugged in. It was fine. We got off the dock this morning just fine as well. It took a little planning and some patience, but we did it. The weather forecast foretold an easterly wind which was perfect to assist us off the dock. So when the wind started blowing, we fired up the engine and blew off the bulkhead back into deeper water so we could back out and get out.

It was a very short trip today. Our plan was to go to Bayou Petite Anse where we would anchor in the bayou far enough up to be out of the GICWW and then take the dinghy about 4 miles further up the Bayou to visit the factory where Tabasco Sauce is made. The trip from Shell Morgan Landing to BPA was only 15 miles. There are no charts for this bayou, and thus all we could bank on was the cruising guides. They all said there would be plenty of water. We doubted this seriously when we turned left into the bayou and found ourselves in 7 feet of water. However, 7 is good enough when you draw 4, so we kept moving very slowly and the water slowly got deeper until it was a consistent 14 feet as we wound our way about 1.5 miles into the bayou. We dropped two hooks to prevent us from swinging in the channel. We waited a while before we left to make sure we weren’t going anywhere. Then we hopped in the dinghy and ran another 4 miles up into the bayou. Wow is all I can say. The banks are lined with oak trees dripping with moss. The birds are incredible. It’s so peaceful. Back in the bayou the water is chocolate brown as it is brackish. So, we wound our way all the way back to the state highway and the intersection of Avery Island.














Avery Island is the landmass on which the McIlhenny Company started making Tabasco. The island originally belonged to a woman old man McIlhenny was seeing back in around 1840. Old Man McIlhenny was originally a Boston banker who changed paths and discovered a salt mine in Southern Louisiana. There is apparently a salt mine under this property that is as deep as Mt. Everest is tall. There is a dock on the south side of the property where barges come and go with salt. In any event, he and his girlfriend got a hold of some seeds for peppers and grew them. Then the old man started experimenting with a pepper sauce. In or about 1868, the peppers he grew were named Tabasco Peppers and his recipe was patented. Nothing has changed, although the company now makes a variety of different pepper flavors. The property only grows a little more than 50 acres of pepper plants today. They are used primarily as a seed bank. The seeds are then shipped to 4 or 5 countries in south and central America where the plants are grown and harvested. The process is the same in this factory as it is in factories where the plants are grown.

The peppers are harvested when they are a specific color measured by a colored stick the pickers use called, “Le Petite Baton Rouge.” Then the peppers are processed the same day they are picked. First, they salt them and then lightly mash them into a paste and pack the paste into formerly used Jack Daniels casks. Then, the top of the barrels are sealed with salt - the same salt mined from under the Avery Island property. Then, these casks are stored for 3 years before they are dumped into larger casks and mixed with vinegar and then stirred for several days.

This is Brenda with the world's largest bottle of Tabasco Sauce.

The factory bottles more than 750,000 bottles of Tabasco Sauce per day. Overall, it was a terrific side trip. On the way back, we were joking about how travel brochures probably describe Avery Island as “easily accessible” off a main highway in the Great State of Louisiana. Then there was us, anchored in the first mile of a bayou and then traveling 4 more miles (each way) in a rubber boat further up the bayou to enjoy a 20 minute tour and a walk around the grounds. The funny part of it was the look we got from the lady at the guard gate. We ran the dinghy all the way back to where there is a bridge that blocks the bayou. We tied up to the bridge and then climbed up the muddy bank, walked up to the gate and said, “Is this the Tabasco Factory?” And, “Can we park our dinghy there?” She looked at me like I was crazy, but she finally understood what I was trying to tell her and she let us in. It was a fun day.










When we got back from Avery Island, the boat was where we left her. However, shortly thereafter, there was a tidal shift and Abreojos swung 180 degrees. Now you might think this is nothing. But, when she swung, she swung in spite of her stern anchor. This was the most amazing thing I think I have ever experienced from an anchoring point of view. I had nearly 200 feet of stern line attached to 50 feet of chain and a 35 lb Danforth anchor out there off the stern and when the current in the bayou shifted, so did the boat. It was as though the stern anchor was not even there. I thought it was well dug in. I guess Danforths can keep you guessing in the mud. Obviously, the Bruce on the bow held just fine.

In the morning, we pulled the hooks and raised the dinghy and headed further east where we will moor for a night or two at Morgan City, Louisiana. We need to run a couple loads of laundry, clean the mud off the boat, and otherwise return our little ship to her typical state of organization. We have kind of let things go over the past several days and it’s time to clean up before our run to New Orleans. So, we’ll spend two nights here. Last night we went out to dinner at JoJo’s. I had Cajun Red Fish with shrimp and a crab cake. The bread was so good. We had a great time and turned in early. I’m sure we’ll have more to say about Morgan City. The people here are very friendly. And, yes, there’s a hardware store across the street that opens at 0700.

I was just thinking…….While there are many wonderful things about what we are doing - beautiful sunsets, mirror lakes and bayous, sunny days, warm weather, great scenery, etc. , it all comes at a price. There are also many difficulties the Gulf Coast cruising guides don’t tell you about including, but not limited to: very shallow water, dirty water, intense commercial ship traffic, 80 degree days followed by 30 degree nights, mosquitoes like you have never seen in California, gators, rusty steel docks and bulkheads, dirt roads, long distances to grocery markets, long distances between fuel stops, and zero help from anyone along the way (there ain‘t no vessel assist out here. - If you need a tow, you call BoatUS’s 800 number and they will dispatch someone, but it could take a day or two). Nevertheless, I think it is overcoming these difficulties and living is extremely rewarding. This trip is not for everyone. You really have to rely on your own self. I guaranty that, whatever cruising skills you thought you had will be woefully inadequate at first. (There are cruisers down here in much newer and much faster yachts that can make it from nice marina to nice marina each day. They don’t anchor out.) We have learned so much about all the things we don’t know. Most people like normalcy in their lives. It’s nice to know what you will be doing from one day to the next without having to worry about sinking your house and losing everything, and getting to where you are going to sleep before it gets dark.
Let me just conclude by saying that, in spite of all the difficulties we face on a daily basis, I, for one, and I am sure I speak for Brenda as well, would not change a thing. And, if I had to start over again, I would. Truly, the essence of what this is all about is reflected in a question and answer session Brenda and I have each and every day when I ask her, “Did you ever imagine you would be doing this?“ And she responds, “I didn’t even know this place existed.” That’s what really makes it so amazing.

When in doubt, just follow "Superman"

A Visit to Lake Charles, Louisiana

Lake Charles possesses many of the appealing characteristics and qualities of a great urban center, yet maintains that "personable feel" of a smaller town. There are premier casinos, and the community hosts over 75 annual festivals.

With beautiful natural habitats, fresh water marshes, scenic rivers, inviting sunsets on the lakefront, sandy beaches, coupled with smiling faces and warm hearts, Lake Charles is an inviting place. There is a variety of dining, shopping, and entertainment experiences in Lake Charles. Attractions include the Charpentier Historical District, the Port of Lake Charles, Millennium and Adventure Cove parks, 1911 Historic City Hall, and the Central School Arts and Humanities Center.


We decided to go to Lake Charles on a whim. We are very glad we did as we had a completely delightful time. When we got in, it was late and we were tired after a long day in the ditch, so we stayed on the boat and relaxed. The following morning, the fun began.

We awoke relatively early and hit the town. We discovered the Fat Cat Café and had a great breakfast. Then we walked, and walked, and walked. We found a map of the town and discovered the Imperial Calcasieu Museum. This museum was established in 1963 on land donated by Charles Sallier, a guy after whom a street is named. This museum houses artifacts and memorabilia depicting life in the region from the time of the native Americans to the present. In fact, we had a chance to read letters written by civil war soldiers to their loved ones. The museum is unique in that it displays artifacts and memorabilia in small sections designed like rooms. For instance, there was a bedroom, a kitchen, a post office, a barber shop, and an old fashioned apothecary. Each room displayed pieces from the relevant time frame; mostly from the late 19^th century and early 20^th. The curator there was a nice guy named Stephen. He gave us a map of the town and showed us on the map where all the good restaurants and bars were as well as other museum and art attractions. We used the hell out of that map.

From the Imperial Calcasieu Museum, we walked back across town to the Central School of Arts and Humanities. This building is the home of the Mardi Gras Museum. We did not know this, but Lake Charles hosts the second largest Mardi Gras in Louisiana. The museum displayed Mardi Gras costumes and history all the way back to the mid 1960’s when they really started it all in Lake Charles. The costumes were elaborate and quite impressive. You simply cannot imagine the head-gear folks would wear. Each room you walk through had an audio-animatronic “dummy” explaining what was in the room. Each room was dedicated to some facet of Mardi Gras. 


In the same building, we were also able to visit the Associates Gallery, a collection of artwork by students of the Central School. There was some very creative work done with parts of the oil industry. I liked the cut pipes with the corrosion and rust air brushed florescent colors highlighting the nooks and curves. Very cool.

By the time we got done with this museum, it was late in the day, so we headed back to the boat. We were just kicking back when my phone rang. It was Leon. You may recall that Leon is the guy who responded to my request for information regarding entering Lake Charles. He called because he wanted to invite us to a Christmas party the next night hosted by the Lake Charles Power and Sailing Squadron. What a treat to be invited. We absolutely said “yes.” How could we not. This would prove a great opportunity to meet some local folks and get a better flavor of what it is like to be part of this Southwestern Louisiana community.

Well, the next morning, we managed to get our bikes off the boat, into the dinghy, and to the pier. Lake Charles has this beautiful brand new municipal marina that just opened in October. It is an important part of the city’s downtown waterfront redevelopment. Interestingly, Leon told me that when we were crossing the lake, we would encounter this hole that was over 50 feet deep. We did. This hole was dredged out and the materials used as landfill for the construction of the new Civic Center. We had the privilege to meet the Harbor Master, whose name is Denver. When we got into town, I called the visitor’s bureau to find out if there was a public dock where we could tie the dink for a few hours while we explored the town. A very nice lady got me Denver’s number. I called and spoke with him. He could not have been more accommodating. We were given complete access to the dock at any time, and only if we stayed over night would we be charged a whopping $10. Although we did not stay the night at one of these beautiful docks, we did spend four nights anchored out in front of them, and we did avail ourselves of the access to the town.


Denver is definitely, “The Man.” He was variably described as the Sergeant who could get more done than the Colonel. He is known and appreciated by all who have anything to do with boating.

So, back to our bikes. We had some errands to run. We had supplies and some groceries to get. My Droid led us to a WalMart and a West Marine. It’s funny how the droid tells you it is only ½ mile to some place, but when you actually get out there and do it, it seems like it is more like 7 miles…..each way. This is what we went through this date. We rode and rode and rode. To make matters worse, Lake Charles is not a real bike friendly town. There are few sidewalks and no bike lanes. In fact, if you walk on the sidewalks that there are, it is entirely possible to get picked off by the rear view mirror of a passing pick up truck. So, riding our bikes was a rather harrowing experience. We got it all done, and we got to see even more of the town than we would have otherwise.
That night, we had a great time with our new friends at the Lake Charles Power and Sailing Squadron. What a nice bunch of folks. We were made to feel very welcome. There are some serious boaters in this club. They are quite experienced and well trained. This Squadron has its own building with a beautiful upstairs where they hold their classes and meetings. Their downstairs screened patio, however, is very cool. There is a bar down there made from a cut off transom of a boat. They have their own long dock down below where they can probably stack more than 20 of their club’s boats for summer social and water events. It turns out that, in Louisiana, you have to have completed a boaters training course before you can operate a boat in the State of Louisiana. The LCPSS teaches most of the courses in the area. They have a number of Senior Navigators, and more than most of their members have achieved the rank of Pilot or better. We met so many really nice people. We appreciate all the information we obtained from locals. Most importantly, however, we cherish having had the opportunity to meet all these great folks. Thank you Leon. You made an indelible impression and a real difference. We will always remember you and your lovely wife, Lola.


The next day was the evening Lighted boat parade and fire work extravaganza. But, we were not leaving without sampling some of the local specialties, to wit: Beignet and Boudin. Beignet is like a fried doughnut covered in silky powdered sugar.

Awesome Beignet at Stellar Beans

Boudin is sausage made with meat. Some say that, around here, “meat” could mean anything that is not a vegetable. We walked over to Stellar Beans for beignet and coffee. Awesome! Then, we took over and hiked several miles (thanks Droid) to a deli on “the other side of town” to find boudin. Having walked so far, we decided we would bring some back. We humped approximately 12 lbs of boudin back to the boat. The walk was great. Again, we saw parts of town we would not have seen otherwise. There was a very cool cemetery with a funny billboard at the back end.



This is one hell of a way to advertise.

 That was quite a hike. We finally made it back to the boat after a late lunch at around 3:00 in the afternoon, just in time to make a couple water runs and relax some before the Parade of Lights and Fireworks Extravaganza. The parade was nice. There were 9 boats all lit up. They paraded across the waterfront for thousands of adoring fans. This was a judged parade, so there were winners. I think they were all winners. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a small barge pushed into the middle of the lake in front of the civic center. The fireworks were about to begin. It was a great display. It was literally rightheads. For a few days, we were the only boat anchored out on the lake. However, for the parade and fireworks, there were many boats out, mostly carrying their families, kids, pets, whatever, for a closer look at the boat parade and overhead lights.

We truly had a great time in Lake Charles, are glad we went, and highly recommend it as a destination for others cruising the Gulf Coast.

Where's Waldo?

Where's Waldo goin?

Brenda and her 'gator.

We have crossed into Louisiana

It took us about a month to cruise almost the whole coast of Texas (minus an unfortunate incident that held us up for about a week). And with weather being what it is, we moved slower than we thought. However, there is something to be learned in all of this: when you are cruising, there really should be no time line. A schedule is a cruiser’s worse enemy. It can make you do things you otherwise know you shouldn’t for no other reason that you feel you have to get somewhere. Now that we are over this, we are actually beginning to slow down and just live wherever we happen to be. As a result, every day is noticeably different and the challenges are always new and refreshing. Enough of this feel good crap. Let’s talk cruising.

We had an interesting time in Taylor Bayou. It’s not like there is anything to do there. It’s just a stopping spot. It’s a very good one at that. You anchor in this canal that is about 200’ wide and 15’ deep almost all the way to the banks. The holding is very good. The wind protection is good (at least from the standpoint that there is no fetch over which the wind can blow to create troublesome waves). There is no current to speak of, and the water is otherwise completely flat. When looking to the north, the scenery to the west is magnificent. When looking to the east, it’s all about the refineries and chemical plants of West Port Arthur. In fact, when the wind finally died, after two days of blowing like stink, you could actually hear the “hummmm” of the machinery and all that heavy steel making chemicals for Dow. So, again, when looking north, you just plug your right ear and listen to the sounds of the bayou. You can enjoy hearing the heron, egret, hook-bill, pelican, and marsh sparrow. You can listen to the wind as it pushes through the tall marsh grass. The other day, however, when looking and listening to the west, there was nothing but fire, and more fire. Coming on the heels of a big south wind followed by another norther, by a tornado watch, and generally difficult travelling conditions, this was a real boot in the shorts. So, to awaken on Wednesday morning to a cloudless sky, glassy water, cool temperatures (just over 30 degrees F), a purple and orange sunrise

highlighted by the crescent moon with Venus bright on its south-eastern hip, and decorated serene with “swamp gas” floating across the mirror-like bayou, was truly wonderful. For people who insist on sleeping late, all I can say is, “Too bad you missed it because there will never be another one like it.”

So, after I scraped ice off the windows, defrosted the isinglass, did all my engine room checks, prepared my wheel house with the day’s charts and cruising guides, and made coffee, we started the engine, pulled the hook, and made off. During the previous day, we discussed bypassing a couple of bayous we had thought to anchor in (really, once you’ve seen one Texas bayou, they are not all that different) and decided, instead, to go to Lake Charles, Louisiana.

This was not originally planned, so it took me a little while to pull up, download, and print the charts and gather all the information we would need. It turned out that it was a little less than 60 miles from Taylor Bayou, so it would not be a terribly long day, and once we got there, hell, we’d be anchoring in a lake that has plenty of water under the keel.


That reminds me. A friend of mine named Valerie, who, along with her husband, are also full time cruising “liveaboards”, presently enjoying the rigors of cruising the coast of mainland Mexico, asked about the water depths we are dealing with. As some of you know, we rely on NOAA charts for navigation in both electronic and paper format. The electronic charts are “raster” charts which means they are essentially scanned paper charts which, when combined with a GPS, turn your laptop computer into a chart plotter placing your boat electronically on the chart in your precise location, thereby enabling you to see where you are on the chart. I prefer the raster charts to another form of electronic chart known as a “vector” chart. Vector charts are electronic conversions and do not look like NOAA charts. Vector charts have the advantage of being electronically “charged” with all sorts of good information such as spot soundings, point and click applications for marinas, harbors, bathroom facilities, etc. I have always used them for cruising in Southern California because they come on a chip I plug into my Raymarine RL70CLC. I also have them running on a laptop just for redundancy. However, over the last year, I found a new software called “Sea Clear” which uses raster charts. Now, keep in mind that vector charts are not NOAA charts. They are very expensive little bastards, with each chip potentially costing hundreds of dollars. Moreover, vector charts are probably out of date before they even hit the shelves. NOAA raster charts, on the other hand, can be downloaded for free, run on just about any chart plotting software, and, if downloaded regularly (in either print or electronic format, or both as I tend to do), they are as up to date as the most recent USCG Notice to Mariners for a given geographical area (generally about a week or less, in some cases). So, as far as the depth of water goes, it is determined first and foremost by looking at the NOAA raster charts.

On the raster charts, there are a lot of places where no depth information appears. Taylor Bayou, for instance, is one. The next source of information generally available is contained in cruising guides. Fortunately for us, most places have been explored and written about previously. So, although there is no depth information for Taylor Bayou contained on a nautical chart, the cruising guide tells you that there is a canal, that it is such and such wide and such and such deep.

Another good source of information is Google Earth. On several occasions, I have studied satellite photographs of an area, and actually printed screens to have at hand when going into a place. It is very helpful to have a bird’s eye view.

Finally, there is the depth sounder, fish finder, bottom finder, or whatever else you want to call it. This is an electronic device that tells you what the bottom looks like. It will tell you how deep the water is and, if you get good at reading it and working with the gain and contrast, you can even begin to tell what the bottom composition is; whether or not there are any rocks or structures under you, and generally, if there are any fish. I have met captains on tuna boats who claim that, using their sophisticated sounders, along with their years of experience, they can actually tell the difference between a yellow fin tuna and a blue fin tuna based on the bone structure of the fish they claim they can see. I’m not so sure about that. I also know skippers of squid boats who claim they can tell the difference between a school of squid and a school of anchovies.

So armed with all this information, there is still one caveat: charting and the placement of aids to navigation is a GOVERNMENT OPERATION. This means that, even with the most accurate, up to date, charts and the most sophisticated electronics money can buy, it is all still a lot of guess work. In hurricane prone areas such as the Gulf Coast, marks get blown away and sometimes do not get replaced. Moreover, sand bars (or mud banks, as the case may be) are not static. Rather, they move. So, after it is all said and done, local knowledge is probably one of the best tools money cannot buy (unless you spring for some drinks with a local skipper).

The bottom line (or the canal bottom) is this. You know what your charts and electronics tell you, but you still have to exercise a lot of caution when cruising in unfamiliar areas. For instance, when we went to Offetts Bayou, we had studied the charts, looked at sat. photos, and read the cruising guides, but we still got stuck in the mud. Another example was coming into Lake Charles, Louisiana. The charts showed 5 feet at the entrance to the lake. Not being sure what it all meant, I reached out to anybody who had been here before via Activecaptain.com, and the AGLCA Discussion Forum, and got a response from someone who lives on Lake Charles and has a 42’ Californian. He sent me an email with a good explanation and his phone number. So, when we were coming up the Calcasieu River and a few miles from Lake Charles, I called him and asked for some clarifications. He told me the Lake hadn’t been charted in a while and that there was actually more water than what the chart showed at the markers where one enters the lake. Moreover, he told me to aim for the Civic Center and go straight across the lake aiming for it. He also told me of a 50’ deep hole we would come across where the city dredged for sand and mud to build the new marina. Well, he was right on. Nevertheless, we slowed to 3 knots as we crossed through the markers and nosed in very slowly and quietly. We came to a spot less than a quarter of a mile in front of the center of town and anchored in 7.5 feet of water. PERFECT! To get out of here, we will simply bring up the track in that is saved in the computer, and follow it out. Moreover, I plan to go onto Activecaptain.com and post a review so others following us will have more information.
Depths around here tend to be shallow. You just have to get used to it, and go slower than normal.

Back to cruising……

We had a great trip from Taylor Bayou to Lake Charles. We had sunny skies the whole day. The water is still very brown running east on the ICW, but we hear it clears up as you get to western Florida. The tide seemed really low as there was exposed mud on both sides all day. We used the exposed banks as an opportunity to look for alligators, but saw only a dead one being munched on by a couple buzzards. What was most striking, however, was the change in environs between Texas and Louisiana. Granted we are only a small handful of miles into Louisiana, so we cannot say for certain what it will look like further east of here, but it was amazing how we went from wide open grasslands and marshes, to banks covered in mossy trees and woods. Also, the banks of the “ditch” are lined with boulders everywhere so far. You look off into the woods along the banks of the Louisiana ICW and imagine some really strange person with very few teeth, wearing denim overalls and a straw hat, chewin’ on a piece of weed and gutting a wild pig, all to the music from the movie Deliverance. You imagine scenes from The Deer Hunter. And you just smile. This here is Louisiana. And it is very different. I’m really looking forward to exploring it and getting to know a little about it.

We had deep water (Ok more about water depths) most of the day. When you leave Taylor Bayou, you head east past the town of Port Arthur. PA is almost at the middle of the GICWW between the Florida Panhandle, and Brownsville, Texas. So, it is somewhat of an industrial hub. We must have passed 30 miles of nothing but refinery after refinery. Not only that, but it is heavy in barge and ship traffic as well. As a result, they keep this area dredged deep enough for ships drawing up to 15 meters (a little more than 45 feet) to get in and get out. A couple times on the run, we were slowed significantly by back ups. There is a place just east of Port Arthur called the “1000 foot cut” which is a narrow spot across the top of Sabine Lake (and when I say narrow, I mean less than 100 feet wide) which is pretty well marked. Getting across was not an issue. It ends, however, in a hair-pin turn at the east end that goes into another narrow area where, according to the NOAA charts, there are mooring buoys. These are small house-sized cans the barges can tie to when they need to stop for whatever reason. There is a small tug that runs around helping push them up to the cans so they can tie up. On this day, however, it seemed like it was raft-up day and on either side of this narrow hair-pin turn pass, the barges were three deep on each side, leaving enough space for one six-pack to squeeze through……and nothing else. So, it was great having the AIS to tell us if there was a barge coming in the opposite direction that our radar would never see until it was way too late, so we could forestall the passage. Obviously, we made it through, but, once again, the floor of the wheelhouse is littered with the remnants of what were once fingernails.




The 1000 Foot Cut was interesting as was the “Orange Intersection.” From Port Arthur all the way past the turnoff to Beaumont, TX., there is heavy barge traffic. More than 150 barges per day pass through this area. The Orange Intersection, however, brings traffic from 4 or 5 different directions into the Sabine River where they might be heading east, west, out to the Gulf, north to Orange or Beaumont, or to any one of the staging areas that live in a handful of loops just off the main canal. Sheer madness. I read an archived news story of how three vessels collided in this precise area. The incident involved a tanker and two barges. This was before the advent of AIS, but still…. Also every bridge you go under has these massive bumpers protecting the legs. The bumpers are rather beat to hell. It all suggests that, pushing hardware more than a football field long in a narrow channel in all sorts of weather, both day and night, is a hazardous activity. My little fiberglass ship would be squished like a Styrofoam cup under a steel-toed boot. No joke.

Finally, we made it to the Calcasieu (pronounced "kal-ka-shoe") River intersection and headed north up the river to Lake Charles.  We passed more refineries, but we also saw some beautiful parks along the banks of smaller lakes that come off the Calcasieu.  Nice wide and deep river.  As we started up the river, we could see the massive L'Auberge Du Lac Casino and resort - it's a 27 story monstrosity (the tallest building between Houston and New Orleans.  It sits on a point jutting out into the river at the intersection of the Calcasieu and Contraband Bayou.  There is a 36 hole golf affair, casinos, restaurants, shopping, pools, spas, etc.  We passed the Citgo refinery, the Exxon Refinery, a Venoco refinery, and then passed under the I-210 bridge before turning right into the channel that leads to Lake Charles.  It's not a terribly big lake, but it is lined with nice homes and there is a downtown waterfront redevelopment that looks shiney and new.  Couldn't have asked for nicer weather.

We’re going to start exploring Lake Charles so I’ll have more to talk about soon. Thanks for all the great feedback. I appreciate the fact that there are a lot of folks reading this dribble, and enjoying it. So I’ll just keep on putting it out for as long as there are folks enjoying it. For us, the adventure keeps getting more interesting and fun.

Be well, All.