NC to Tenn R. -OR- How I Spent My Winter Vacation

[tafelice]

A few posters have asked me for more information on my recent trip from Holden Beach NC to my house in Waverly, Tn on the Tenn. R.  The following posts are the email stories I bothered my friends and relatives on my email list, essentially a non-nautical lot.  It is quickly evident I think I have a sense of humor, operational word "think."  If you have more specific questions just reply and ask.

Feb 8th 2007
Subject:  HEADIN' SOUTH ON THE ICW

Just a note along the way.  We left Holden Beach,
North Carolina on Sunday the 4th and returned to North
Myrtle Beach where I originally picked up the
sailboat.  She had some repairs done in Holden Beach
and had her bottom painted.  We couldn't leave Monday
because of more repairs, so we left Tuesday.  We made
41 miles that first day and anchored in Thoroughfare
Creek in South Carolina.   (we had a delay for some
repairs). We left that next morning at 7am, with
porpoises playing around the boat, on our way to
another 41 mile trek to Five Fathom Creek.   (We broke
down and Karl, our handy dandy crew, had to change the
fuel filter with 20+kts winds and choppy waves.  but
we were on our way again.) It was a very quiet
anchorage, more porpoise (or dolphins we don't know).
Next morning we left for a 35 mile tranquil cruise to
Charleston.  We took a marina in Charleston so that we
could enjoy hot showers laundry and Downtown
Charleston.  We also had to get more stuff for the
boat.  It has been warmer every day since we left and
we hope the trend will continue.  Joan keeps saying
she hates it but we think she is enjoying it.

That's it for now.

Tom

[tafelice]

Feb 11th 2007

Subject: Continuing On The ICW

We had a great time in Charleston.  We went to a lot
of galleries and two good restaurants.  Joan got to
meet one of her very favorite artists, John Doyle, and
of course she just gushed over him.  The gushing paid
off, he gave her some large postcards and signed a
couple of them.  We had another problem that night in
the harbour, where we anchored (because it was too
late to move on), with the prop shaft*1*.  But this time
we did some good.  The next day we had to make one
adjustment, which we did ahead of time instead of the
part forcing us to scramble when it broke down,
and it seems to be acting
good.  We made 35 miles to a quiet achorage near two
govt docks.  We tied up at one.  It was beautiful.
The sky was full of stars.  The next morning, with
that nice dock space as a work area we put the dinghy
floor together.  It looks pretty good, and I'm much
more comfortable towing it, inflated, in case there is
a REAL problem.  Well, today we will make Beaufort,
SC.  We will anchor out and provision at the Winn
Dixie.  Joan said to remind everyone "it's not that
much fun.  It's pretty rough, like camping."  Bye for
now.

Tom and Joan

*1* I didn't dwell on it in my email travelblog but the main problem that tormented us from Holden Beach until it was finally fixed in Florida was the coupling that connects the transmission to the prop shaft and holds on the prop shaft was comming loose, threatening at times to lose the prop shaft out of the hull and if undetected to possibly sink the boat.  Once we caught it just in time.  How this came to be is that on the hard I had the cutlass bearing replaced.  In so doing the mechanic broke the old corroded bolts on the coupling.  I don't blame him for that.  I offered to order a new coupling but he said he would just tap out the holes and put in a bigger bolt.  I don't blame him for that either, as a matter of fact I don't really blame him at all, just bad choices based on the best information we had.  It sort of just happened.  Anyway the old coupling was not a tight fit to begin with as it was "wallowed" out and the bigger bolts didn't set in the shaft dimples as well and one of the tap jobs was not good and the bolt didn't hold well.  The vibrations of all this gave us fits and eventually broke two motor mounts.  To my non-sailing audience that I originally wrote these emails to I tried to minimize this because 2) they weren't that interested in the, literally, nuts and bolts of sailing and 1) I like my trips to go off successfully and I looked a little like a fool having so much trouble at the very start of a huge trip.  My ego.

[tafelice]

Feb 17th 2007

Subject:  Hilton Head and beyond........ way beyond

Beaufort SC was interesting.  We anchored out about
200 feet from the public ramp/dock and dinghied in to
shore.  The dinghy had a leak.  Nothing disastrous but
we had to pump it up after each trip.  Joan and I went
in first while Karl, our
crew/skipper/mechanic/navigator stayed aboard to make
sure our anchor held (I think he was a little
concerned about the dinghy).  When Joan and I returned
from provisioning, Karl wanted to go in for seafood,
so I rowed us in, Joan remained on board, and we went
for a good seafood dinner.  The next day Karl and I
returned to shore to get dinghy repair stuff, not much
luck and got talking to a solar energy buff who had us
very interested, so there went the morning.  But we
took off and made Hilton Head, SC and anchored in a
quiet creek, Skull Creek.  We fired up the barbecue
grill for the first time and we're doing chicken.

Well, for everyone who is thinking we are just having
the time of our lives.... the next day we broke a
motor mount, we had to jury rig one screwing both
broken halves of the screw into a matching crown nut
and tightening that in ... then every... every ...
every .... dead low tide in Georgia we ran aground
once real bad in Jekyl Sound.  I passed out life
jackets and Joanie placed her purse under her sweater
so that her body would be identified.  She says she's
not doing this again.  When I told our experienced
sailor crew guy the provisional plan if we had to get
into the dinghy .. he didn't have a good "get oughta
here" but just assented with "okay."  Well, we tried
something and we got out, now we have limped our way
to Fernandina Beach, where the part we ordered ahead
did not arrive.  We do have a better attitude just
about being alive, that's a nice feeling.  We are
trying to chill but it is difficult... however we will
make the best of it.  We'll be in Fernandina Beach for
a little while.  We had a good Wood Fired pizza
tonight, at Arte's and we look toward tomorrow.

Love to all,

Tom and Joan

[tafelice]

Mar 3rd 2007

Subject: In The Middle Of The Night

Hi Everyone,

The first night we got into Fernandina Beach our crew
Karl curtained himself off in the back stateroom and
played loud jazz music most of the night.  We got him
to turn it down a little but it was still kind of
loud.  Well, the next morning we realized what all
that loud music was for.  Because, in the middle of
the night he snuck out through his overhead hatch and
disappeared, homebound by taxi and bus or plane, we're
sure.  Two weeks later we are still in Fernandina
Beach, FL but our new crew guy*2* is joining us in a
couple of hours, he flew in from DC, and we will shove
off Sunday morning, tomorrow.  Joan will be along for
a day and a half and then she leaves us in St.
Augustine.  It is a much longer trip than she had
hoped and what with the breakdowns, she wasn't having
a good time.  I continue with Eugene until a week from
today when he leaves to return to his job.  By then
another experienced guy, Cliff, is supposed to join us
this Wednesday and he said he will accompany until the
west coast of Florida and maybe Mobile Alabama.  I'm
just hoping the engine repair holds up, we got so
ripped off on that deal*3*.  That is it.  Thanks for all
the words of encouragement or exclamations of aghast.

Bravely,

Tom and Joan


*2*  In my emails I often mention crew, need for crew, new crew, etc, whatever.  My previous experience was as a long time dinghy sailor, laser, sunfish, dyer dhow and the like.  I have never cruised.  So I figured I needed some experienced people on board to keep me out of trouble, maybe.  The first guy, the guy who "escaped" (why he had to escape we don't know because he would have had our blessing if he wanted to leave by the front door) was a massive drinker, delusional, a liar and one of the biggest drama queens with a hero complex I have ever met.  So much for the screening process.

*3* I would not ever recommend Fernandino Beach as a stop to anyone.  The marina referred me to a big crook of a diesel mechanic who in the end I had to threaten police intervention to reduce the bill to "very high" from "exorbitant."  It is a pitiful shame that a traveler has to put up with that kind of abuse when they, the travellers, are so vulnerable.  It puts a bad taste in your mouth.

[tafelice]

Mar 12th 2007

Subject: Space Launch - Turning For Home

Hi All,

In Fernandina Beach, FL, Eugene, from Washington, DC
joined me, about 9 days ago.  We had an uneventful 7
days of motoring south on the ICW.  We stopped at
Cocoa and were lucky enough to be there for a space
launch.  It wasn't the shuttle, which everyone says is
so bright it turns the night sky a day blue, but this
was a 5 satelite private payload.  It was still pretty
spectacular.  The next day we stopped at Jones Fruit
Dock, just before Vero Beach.  You can tie up there
for $10 a night, no services.  Mr. Jones, 88 years
old, comes down with his wife in the evening to
welcome you.  And I mean really welcome you.  It's
kind of amusing.  He shakes your hand and gives you a
grapefruit and says "I'm really glad you decided to
visit us, sign my book."  So you sign the book with
boat name, port city, destination, captain name, owner
name, and then he sits with you and tells you stories
of old Florida, the way it used to be, and of war
stories, about chasing Rommel in N. Africa but not
getting him and then going into Italy.  His face turns
down and grim, "It was rough man, it was rough."  How
can you beat that.  The next day, Eugene gets off in
Ft. Pierce to bus back to DC and waiting right there
is my new crew Cliff.  We fuel up, heading south.  At
Port St. Lucie a significant thing happens.  For the
first time I turn west and now every mile is literally
taking me closer to home.  Continueing on we make a
really big day getting into Stuart FL and taking a
beautiful anchorage.  We get up early and leave just
after dawn, by the way it is one beautiful sunrise
after another now, and we lock through a nine foot
rise to the Okeechobee Lake.  We were going to take a
practice sail but the winds were so right and the time
looked good be decided to go for the other side, which
was not in sight.  We made it with only 15 minutes to
spare and tie up a half a mile away, 57 miles, a new
day record for "Joanie Joan".  This morning was
outstanding.  This has been the most beautiful part of
the trip.  We see alligators and birds of all kind and
the scenery is sometimes other worldly.  Well, I'm in
Moore Haven now after just coming through a Lock that
was maybe a 2 inch fall.  Going to try to get some
fresh meat for lunch.  Still thinking about the open
water crossing of the Gulf of Mexico which is before
me in about 5 to 8 days.

bye for now

Tom

[tafelice]

Mar 16th 2007

Subject:  Blind Luck

We get some chicken in Moore Haven and I'm preparing
the grill.  I take the cover off and the regulator and
intake pipe drop overboard.  "OH SHOOT (sp)!"  I had
just finished showering and had my swim trunks on.  I
look at the depth gauge and I know the water is 9
feet.  Cliff says, "You'll never get it.  My wife, who
is an olympic swimmer tried that once and never got
it."  I probably wouldn't have tried but the guy*4* who
sold me the propane grill says those things fall off
from all the vibration, so bottom line, I felt like a
fool.  I dive down, it is a long way, muck muck muck,
then something hard, it's a stick, up up for air.
Down again, muck muck, stick stick, I hold onto a
stick to stay down but that freaks me out so I head up
up.  Down again, stick, muck, stick.  Up and I say
once more.  Down again, reaching around nothing going
to go up, one more reach, oh man it's the regulator
(it's only about 7" long) I come up like something out
of a beer commercial.  "Oh my god, you got it," cries Cliff. 
"here, take if from me."  Cliff reaches down and grabs
it by the pipe end and the regulator falls off, I'm
all elbows and arms and below it goes, I close my legs
and it is falling down my stomach thighs, everything
is in slow motion, it bounces off my knees, two feet
below the surface, I make a cradle with my feet but I
have lost touch with it now, then it lands on my feet,
I hold still, ... it steadies.  Now to reach it
without dropping it, I contort my legs up as I reach
over and I get the darn (sp) thing again.  I bring it
back onto the boat myself.  Miraclously it works and
in 15 minutes the chicken is sizzling.

The Okeechobee is great and we get to Ft Myers in two
more days.  Fantastic anchorages, like you wouldn't
believe.  We wind our way through this maze of million
dollar homes that live on their own marina, it's
practically like Venice Italy, and about a mile in is
a basin where you can anchor for free, right in the
middle of this luxory waterfront development.  Kicker
is you can stay for a MONTH.  Short dinghy ride and
you are walking distance to everything.  This is Cape
Coral.  WOW.  Next day fantastic and the next.
Yesterday, the instruments went out and we realize we
have no electric, the alternator belt broke, so
diesels can run without electric so we continue to a
dock about an hour away where I will fix it, when suddenly the
alarm goes off, the engine is overheating.  We shut it
off and continue quietly under sail.  about 20 minutes
later we start it and no alarm.  we are still
discussing what could have happened.  After the
repair, I miss the jump to the boat and I'm hanging
over the sides in 20 knots clinging to the life lines.
I eventually pull myself aboard and here I am at
Madeira Beach, we're still prepping for the open water
crossing.  Good thoughts and prayers are appreciated.

See you soon,

Tom


*4*  That'd be Cap'n Kirk

[tafelice]

Mar 23rd 2007

Subject:  Wonderful And Terrifying

From Madeira Beach we go to Tarpon Springs and anchor
in a quiet little slough by a park and boat ramp.  We
dinghy to the park and while inquiring about the
location of the town a boater and his elderly father
offer us a ride to Tarpon Springs... "I'm not going
there but I'll drop you off anyway,"  and that is how
it has been, the unbelievable generosity of most
boaters is astounding.  We are on a mission to get
some local knowledge of our crossing of the Gulf of
Mexico in 2 days.  We come across "Drunk Tom" (as we
later come to find out he is called) who did the trip
the other way.  He grabs his charts, pops a beer and
loads another can in his pocket he tells us all about
it and from the way he talks of some things we decide
what to take to heart and what to throw out.  We throw
out his assertion that the only way to pass Anclote
Key is on the south side, we passed on the north, but
we keep to heart that the night gets "f'n cold." and
the seas are "f'n rough."  The next day we strip the
deck of everything non-essential and tie down and
batten the hatches, as they say.  We wait out the
fresh and gusty breeze for the steadier easterly,
10-15 mph winds of Monday.  We take off at "Dark
Thirty" as we are fond of calling the first possible
light you can leave in and pass Anclote Key to the
north.  The easterly is from the NE and as the day
goes by it blows pretty good and a big wave rolls us
back and forth and the engine alarms so we shut it
down.  No Engine!  Now we are under just sail and
guess what... we are going 2 knots FASTER.  The wind
heads from the north and we can't sail straight to our
destination so we are going out of our way west, then
we tack back east later that afternoon, we have been
out of sight of land in all directions since the
morning, and then the wind finally fills in from the
east and it is blowing pretty good, 15-20 but the sun
has set and now we are going into darkness, just
sailing.  We take 1 1/2 to 2 hours shifts.  Cliff, my
good crew had the foresight to suggest taking down the
main sail and the wind is blowing 20 and we are almost
doing hull speed (fastest speed the boat can possibly
do) and the waves are coming from our stern quarter.
I can't think of it now without the feeling returning.
Pitch dark, the sky is unbelievable, no moon, stars
stars stars stars stars.  It's cold, my mittens
reappear.  We are both hallucinating (it's revealed the
next day).  I think I see oil rigs, unlit of course
and piers and docks, unlit of course and every time I
doze off a little I awake with a start because the
white life line to my right SUDDENLY looks like a
sandy beach we are going to go aground on.  I'm like
that "short term memory guy" in a comedy sketch who
keeps getting startled by the same thing.  My nerves
were on the surface.  But yet, it was sooooooooo
coool, sooooooooo coool.  At once wonderful and
terrifying.  "It was a trip man!"  It was like
freefalling from some building so tall you finally
snap out of your terror and say hey this is a wild
ride.  Cliff had the watch that saw the sun rise, we
were both glad.  The wind began to die as we tried to
solve the engine problem.  The wind is dead we are
becalmed, flap, flap, flap go the sails, out of power
and it dawns on us, the easy and fast crossing (we
were afraid we'd actually get there too early) becomes
the certain realization that, WE WILL BE ANOTHER NIGHT
AT SEA!  No cell signal to help with the mechanical
problem.  I'm taking things off the engine and putting
them back.  We are convinced we have an air lock,
finally we bleed water through all the hoses, the
engine starts and we wait the 2 minutes it takes to
overheat, 5 minutes pass and we put it in gear and
hold our breath, 5 more minutes pass and we rev up,
our engine and our spirits.  But we will make landfall
an hour after pitch dark, you are not supposed to do
that.  We get the forecast and it is supposed to be
moderate.  Do we stay off shore or try to go in
through the channel in the dark, not a good thing.  We
decide to go to shore and anchor out exposed in open
water in the shallowest place we can safely float.  I
attach my new heavier claw anchor and now we are going
through the dark again trying to get to a safe anchor
ground.  We anchor in 16 feet of water, the wind was
moderate and the seas were only 2-3 but they were on
our beam and we rolled and rolled all night.  Not
comfortable but we didn't have a choice.  The next day
was glorious and we haul anchor at dark thirty heading
for Apalachicola, FL.  We enter the channel we
declined to take the previous night and we believe we
made the right decision.  Apalachicola we take a
marina, showers, laundry, real food, land.  And most
importantly... back on the Intracoastal again.

My crew had to get back to his real life and I'm not
absolutely certain of someone else to go, looks good
but still not sure (you know who you are J & T).
Anyone interested in meeting up and helping out give a
call 615 886 0544.  I'm not crazy about doing this
singlehanded but I will if I have to.

Thanks to everyone who wrote back to say they were
thinking of us and praying for us.

Oddly enough the most beautiful part of this entire
journey was the last 2 days on the ICW from
Apalachicola.  I'll tell you about it next time.
Gotta run.

Tom
s/v "Joanie Joan"
lying at Panama City, FL

[tafelice]

Apr 6th 2007

Subject:  Apalachicola To Panama City

The trip from Apalachicola to Panama City was probably
the best scenery yet.  The Apalachicola River and
Searcy Creek are just breathtaking.  We do a big day
to get there, 62 miles, sailing most of the way but we
arrive in the evening and anchor in Smack Bayou.  The
next day we motor across the bay to Municipal Marina.
I take on diesel and Cliff calls a cab and departs
"Joanie Joan."  Finally, the realization that I am
singlehanding this boat sinks in.  I schedule a day
off to one, make a repair to the water pump and two,
get my mind around this idea.  The residents of pier 4
are just great.  I get a ride to the parts store, free
consulation on the problem and help with the repair.
Also, several of these guys have been on the Tom
Bigbee Waterway (this is the inland waterway I will
have to take to get home) and offer me advice.This is
where they tell me I have met "Drunk Tom" (remember
him from Tarpon Springs) and that everyone there is
glad he's gone.  It seems like some friends might join
me on this trip so I decide to stay 2 or 3 days in
Panama City to make the link up go easier.  But just
as suddenly the prospect of company disolves and I
decide to head out the next morning.  My first day
alone I am very cautious.  The wind was favorable but
I'm too cautious to throw up the sail.  Even so I make
61 miles and anchor in Destin, FL.  The next day I
decide I will sail if possible but the wind is in my
face and the tide is against me.  Nevertheless I do a
respectable 52 miles to get to Pensacola, but I'm 10
miles short of where I planned to be to get to Mobile,
AL the next day.  I resign myself to do Mobile, AL in
2 days.  I take off from Pensacola and the wind is
good.  I put up the jib as the wind picks up.  I now
feel like a fool because I may not be able to handle
it, but I've got no choice, I sail on.  The tide is
with me too.  The predicted 10-15 mph winds has turned
to 15 - 20 then just a straight 20.  I am flying!
There is not another boat out there (BTW this is a
good time to mention that there are seldom ever any
boats around... ever.  The solitude of the waterways
was always very surprising, puzzling).  I enter the
marina on the south side of Mobile, AL with time to
spare.  I am so pumped!  Whew!  What a day, what a
ride.  I buy the charts needed for the next phase of
the trip, I change my oil and fuel filter and take on
diesel.  I can't wait for the Tom Bigbee Waterway.  I
can't wait to get off the big waters.

Tom

[tafelice]

Apr 9th 2007

Subject:  On The Tenn-Tom

The next day, the day before the inland trip, I need
to use my morning to get things right on the boat.  I
leave at an uncharacteristic 11 am.  I need only to
make the last 12 miles on the Mobile Bay, which by the
way is 35 miles long south to north, then head into
the Tom Bigbee River just north of Mobile, AL.  The
Tom Bigbee River along with the Tennessee River make
up what is called the Tenn-Tom.  Mobile was a terrific
port to pass through.  It was so busy, all the cranes
were going up and down and it seemed like no one sat
around, they were all busy.  It was like a Sesame
Street characterization of a work site, all busy busy
busy.  This wasn't just one site it was all around the
port.  There's a couple of places to go wrong at the
end of the Bay but my new charts got me into the right
river.  Within 1/2 an hour of passing downton Mobile I
was in marsh land and wilderness.  I had the tide with
me so I passed up the guide book anchorage and hoped
to get inventive later on up the river.  I headed for
what looked like a dock and access ramp area indicated
on the charts.  I wasn't familiar with it but there is
always a staging area around any boat ramp and I
thought I could drop the anchor nearby.  Also, I
probably get boring saying this but, I think this Tom
Bigbee might be the best scenery yet.  When I get to
where I planned to anchor I realize the Army Corps of
Engineers definition of ramps and docks are meant to
be industrial and there was no way I could anchor
anywhere near there.  I continue nervously in the fast
fading light looking for a spot on the relatively
narrow river that would be out of the way of the heavy
barge traffic.  I spot a little indent on the shore,
barely an eyebrow, and sidle close in dropping a bow
and stern anchor, so I wouldn't swing around.  But to
be safe I rowed the 15 feet to shore and tied off to a
tree so as not to float out into traffic.  I was
safely out of the way but let's say I did have a front
row seat to passing barges and tugs that night.  The
next day I had a big day and took the recommended
anchorage when I came to it.  The day after was heavy
fog in the morning and I had my first meeting with a
towboat with barge in fog in a river bend, visible
only the last 100 feet.  Fortunately the previous 2
days of listening to the river communication allowed
me to recognize this approaching barge as he called
off his direction and when he passed certain
landmarks.  I should mention my VHF radio is alway on,
always.  I sleep monitoring CH 16.  I never did this
on the seaways, but it is vital on the river, things
happen so fast and so close.  I identified my vessel
and direction and location as soon as possible on the
radio and the tug captain was good to be looking out
for me telling me after 15 minutes at last he saw me
on his radar.  We passed on his "One Whistle" (that
means his port side to my port side) safely.  That
same day I went through my first big lock.  I was on
little locks on the Okeechobee Canal but this was big.
I was lifted probably 35 feet.  He told me I grabbed
the wrong bollard and he would have to open the valves
slowly less it be too rough.  Still, it was like a
washing machine in there, only on gentle cycle.  I had
a bit of an effort to both hold my boat near the wall
but at the same time fend it off a bit to prevent
excessive rubbing.  I'm concerned that the next 11....
eleven... did I mention ELEVEN locks the lock masters
might not be so considerate.  Above this first lock
was gone the wild looking river below the lock and now
it was like a big tranquil reservoir.  The Tom Bigbee
is nothing at all like what I expected.


Tom

[tafelice]

gotta go, I'll post the rest of the stories in a couple of days -tom

[CapnK]

Tom -

Love the stories, excellent writing! :)

[AdriftAtSea]

Tom-

Thanks for the posts... and look forward to reading the rest.   :D

[tafelice]

Apr 11th 2007

Subject:  Woodstock Owes Me A Beer

Last night I couldn't get a signal again on my cell
phone.  That was the second night I didn't call in to
Joan.  The first night I wasn't worried, I already
discussed with Joan that the signal strength was bad
in this unpopulated area and if she didn't hear from
me I would call the next day.  I always call after I
tie up at night.  It happened a few days before, and
the next day when a signal appeared I called.  Now all
day today not a smidge of a signal, not even a dock to
stop off at.  (people told me, I even read it but
nothing could prepare me for the scores of miles of
nothing resembling civilization of any kind)  That
night I got on the radio and called to anyone
listening to respond.  No one.  One time before, while
anchored in the Gulf, I radioed for someone to call my
house and they did, but this time nothing.  The next
day I'm still checking for signal but I'm also looking
for anyone in sight, anyone who can call Joan, just
tell her I'm okay.  There is no one.  Finally, late in
the afternoon I pass a trawler and radio out to him,
he comes back says he's got a little signal.  Would he
call my wife?  Of course.  He comes back to say she
was relieved that I was okay but that she had already
called the Coast Guard.  The Coast Guard called to the
locks and found out I had locked through yesterday
afternoon and that I "appeared to be alright."  That
night I hoisted up the dinghy and put it on deck
leaving it half inflated in case I had to abandon
ship.  I figured the water drag was slowing me down.
The next day, the last day of March, I had a very
difficult time in the lock.  I think I looked like
Kramer, slipping around, fending off the boat with my
back against the slimy wall as I tried to hold in the
stern that was being pushed around by a fresh wind.
The lockmaster looked down in amusement and when I was
lifted he said, "if you catch your boat in the middle
it will go easier on ya."  My first thought was, "now
you tell me," but then I thought better and thought,
"at least now I know." (ten more locks to go).  Beat
near to death I took a marina slip when I got to
Demopolis.  Demopolis is the only city that is actually
on the Tenn-Tom.  Showers, cable TV, good hot food.  I left
Demopolis late, but what a day.  The whole day the
river was like a mirror.  So calm and perfect
reflections of the surrounding shoreline.  Utterly
peaceful.  I did two locks the following day (now tied
off in the center, I felt like a pro).  Then two more
locks the next day.  I'm making coffee and lunch as I
casually attend to the straightening of the boat in
the lock.  I still smile at that struggling slipping
fool I was just 3 days ago.  Then six locks in one day and
the last one, Whitten Lock, they raised me 85 feet
onto Bay Springs Lake.  This lake is gorgeous and it
is known for it's many peaceful coves.  The wind has
piped up so I pick a spot that should be the most
protected and feel my way slowly into a cove near
shore, it is perfect, water calm and smooth.  The next
day, I head out for the last 36 miles of the waterway.
The cold front I experienced yesterday is filling in
today and I am cold, very cold and the wind is right
in my face.  But I get to the end and Woodstock owes
me a twelve pack.  See in Panama City, a fellow on
pier 4, Woodstock (Q. "how did you get that name?" A.
"I was there.") said it would take me 20 days to get
to Pickwick Lake.  I was incredulous, he had made the
trip a dozen times.  Are you sure?  If you make
Pickwick Lake in under 20 days I'll buy you a 12 pack.
Well I hit Pickwick Lake in 13 days, I'll probably
never collect.  Today the winds were supposed to be 15
to 25 with 30 mph gusts, so I took a marina slip and a
day off.  I took the dinghy off the deck and back on
the water figuring the windage, north, in my face, was
going to hurt me more than the drag.  Tomorrow I will
be in the Tennessee River so close to home I can smell
the apple pie cooling on the window sill, if I had a
window sill and Joanie made an apple pie.

Tom

[tafelice]

Apr 14th 2007

Subject:  The Last Leg

The last leg is not without it's moments.  The weather
is the big thing.  It is very cold.  Nights in the
20's, mornings in the 30's, highs in the 40's.  And
windy.  I take off from Pickwick Lake after ducking
out the supposedly high wind day.  I really can't tell
the difference.  It is white caps and water almost
black with wind.  I approach the Pickwick Dam lock and
radio for advise on locking through.  "We can take you
right after this commercial vessel.  It will be about
2 to 2 1/2 HOURS."  I can't take it out there that
long and head for a creek that looks like shelter.  I
anchor and wait for the call.  I finally lock through
but what has happened now is with a 3 hour chunk taken
out of my day there is no way I will ever make home by
tomorrow.  (and with the weather forecast there won't
be any Mobile Bay miracle in the wings).  I take an
anchorage and awaken to heavy fog which puts me back
over two hours that morning.  I realize that I am
actually returning in the spring to colder nastier
weather than I left in in the winter.  Back are the
mittens and wool hat and every item of warm clothes I
have brought with me for a tropical vacation in Key
West.  I go as far as I can but quit early due to low
possibilities of good anchoring.  But the Tennessee
River is very beautiful.  It is a nice valley and it
is a big river.  I am impressed.  It compares
favorably to all the other parts of the Intracoastal
and other waterways I have seen.  I take off the last
day at the earliest time ever, 5:55 AM.  There is just
a mid blue cast to the sky and I can see far enough to
see a barge or any other traffic.  But now I am in my
backyard and I begin to click off landmarks that I
know or have heard of.  I get to the railroad bridge
that I need to request an opening for.  "CSX Railroad
Bridge.  CSX Railroad Bridge.  Come in,"  I radio.
"This is the draw bridge."  "This is the northbound
sailing vessel Joanie Joan.  I am seeking advice on
passing through, over."  "Do you mean you want me to
raise the drawbridge?"  He simply says.  "Yes, I want
you to raise the drawbridge."  "Okay, I'll raise it."
I know I am home.  Now the landmarks click off faster
and faster.  I can see my house with the binoculars
six miles out.  I call Joan and can give her, for the
first time, a real good estimate of when I will
arrive.  I approach the shore tentatively near the
house and drop the anchor in 7 feet of water.  Joan is
on the bank, I have a lump in my chest.  I dinghy in
carrying my ships log book.  A neighbor comes down to
welcome me as well.  This adventure vacation, which
was always more adventure than any vacation, is now
over.  I am in no hurry to do it again, if ever, but I
wouldn't have missed it for anything.

Tom
s/v Joanie Joan
lying at Home

[Pixie Dust]

Tom, I so enjoyed your posts!!  You write very well.   I have sailed a good bit in the Apalachicola to Pensacola areas.    I kept my boat in Panama City until I left on March 5.   I wished I had been on top of my game with Sailfar, because I have several friends at Panama City Marina I would have put in touch with you.   I am finding that folks are wonderful wherever I go and always ready to help out with anything. 
The cruising/boating community is an awesome group of folks.  Sailfar represents that as well. 

I also love Smack Bayou and the ICW between Apal and PC.   You definitely made the right call about NOT coming into Apal Cut after dark.  Current runs very strong through there, lots of shallows and the channel is very winding.   So much nature and wildlife along that ICW route.  It truly is a sampling of Old Florida. 
Sorry to hear about your freezing temps.   That would not have been fun for me.  I am a southern girl down to the blood in my veins.   :D
Did Drunk Tom wear a dew rag on his head?  I am wondering if it is the same "Tom/Tommy" I am thinking of.  LOL   
Enjoy your warm home and thanks for sharing your experiences. :)

[BobW]

Tom,

That was a truly enjoyable tale!  I'm sure it was an adventure for a lifetime.  Thanks for sharing.

[tafelice]

Here is a link for my trip photos:

http://picasaweb.google.com/tafelice/ICW_Trip_2007

Tom

[AdriftAtSea]

Very nice Tom... ;)

[Bubba the Pirate]

Just finally got warm in Michigan.  Your pictures did me a world of good. 

Thanks!

TrT ;D

[BobW]

Tom,

Thanks for the pics.  It's always fun to see the sights of others' adventures.