Great Loop Day 055 Oct 22, 2016, Part 1 of 2 Little Diversion Channel to Bean Branch Creek, Ohio River
Little Diversion Channel to Bean Creek, Ohio River. Part 1 of 2
Trusting our intuition often saves us from disaster. Anne Wilson Schaef
<Day 54 Previous Post | First Post | Next Post Day 55 Part 2>
(Note: If the post is truncated in an email, readers can click on "View entire message" and they'll be able to view the entire post in their email app.)
Day 55 Saturday, Oct 22, 2016. Part 1 of 2. The longest stretch of water in one day: 78.9 miles. 48 miles going downriver and slogging upriver the rest of the way. Now it's hitting me. I'm so tired I'm having trouble typing these words. The catamaran Mucho Gusto and the 35ft Alberg Mystic and the Sea Marie all spent last night rafted in the Little Diversion Channel and on waking were enveloped in a thick fog. So thick at times visibility was but 10 ft or so. We waited till 8:00 am Central Time for the sun to burn off the fog and give us a partial view downriver knowing it was going to get better as the morning wore on. I took off first into the rising mist hoping to get a little more of a headstart for my faster boating brethren. Cautiously out of the calm channel, I motored into the swirling current of the Mississippi River.
Looking back at the entrance to Little Diversion Channel. A little bit foggy.
You can only go so far in the Little Diversion Channel before coming to a RR bridge.
The fog is clearing nicely. Should only get better as the morning continues.
Looks like I got a good jump on the rest as they prepare to weigh anchor and join me on the Mississippi River.
I'm no more than half a mile or so downriver up ahead a white nebulous mass rolls off the starboard bank and settles just ahead of me. I have no recourse, I plunge into it. A thick white haze with the sun in front of it creates a surrounding wall of solid whiteness impossible to see through but for about 10 to 20 feet all around. I'm motoring totally blind. A cold shiver runs down my back. Unable to see either shoreline I am putting my complete faith in the cellphone navigation program to tell me where I am but more importantly where the shoreline is located.
Then the shoreline disappears… I slow to where I can still steer the rudder and keep the Sea Marie in control.
My biggest fear? Seeing a big dark steel shape bow coming out of the fog in front with no time to react. These gigantic metallic monsters can run right over and crush us in a matter of seconds and no one would even know. I stayed close to my starboard shore but that is little consolation. In the straight passages, these humongous steamrollers would be in the middle of the river. On bends, they can hug the shoulder of the outside shore. And I am sitting right in their path.
"Please,” I pray out loud, “blow this fog away!". Hoping the wind gods hear this sailor’s plea.
Each agonizing second turns to minutes, my eyes strain in the whiteness ahead of me, my ears intensely listening for any unusual sound. I am watching my navigation program as I steer clear of the fog-encrusted bank. Checking my depth gauge for shallows, I slowly make my way downriver. Listening, feeling, straining my eyes in front and to my sides, all my senses are at extreme attention. This fog has got to break. More minutes pass. Visibility goes from 20 feet to 50 feet then back to 20 feet. Just the sound of my engine and the lapping of waves on Sea Marie’s hull.
The fog begins to thin a bit then more, I can see the outline of the near shore. Just silhouettes of trees on a bright white canvas. Over on the far shore, nothing yet. I move cautiously on. Visibility improving ever so slightly. I see the water in front of me at 60 feet then 80 feet. More thinning from the top down. Finally, the white wall suddenly opens only to reveal a tow moving slowly toward me up ahead. It is in the center of the river as I expected. It's a big one too. 4 barges wide and 6 deep. Heading into the fog bank on my port I just came out.
The other boats are behind me. Scott in his catamaran has an AIS transceiver. He can see the tows coming on his monitor and the tow can see him on their radar even in this fog. Dave is probably behind him moving cautiously as I did. I radio back to them, no reply. I call Dave on his cell phone to alert him. Scott has him on his AIS. We bite another bullet and we move on.
The Sea Marie slithers out of the fog bank and the sky above clears. No clouds just solid blue from horizon to horizon. I radio back to my buddy boats and Dave answers. I tell them I’m out of the fog bank and to look for the bridge coming up. and also for a tow with many barges was about to enter. I learned later Scott was in radio contact with the tow and the tow was going to wait before moving forward into the fog bank. Had that tow not stopped for us it could have been a pretty nasty situation.
We all got out still floating. Scott and Rhonda in the Mucho Gusto take off ahead.
There's a chill in the air but not bitter. I have my winter gloves on and my hands feel warm. That extra sweater is keeping me warmer than I was yesterday. The cap and hoodie are keeping my ears warm too. Throttle up we lost an hour waiting for that morning fog to dissipate and traveling with extreme caution in the fog bank. 48 miles to the confluence of the Ohio River then upriver to the new Olmsted Dam and Lock. We have no absolute idea of what to expect. My guidebook lists lock 53. We were told at Hoppies by Fern Hopkins it was gone. Olmsted will take the place of both locks 52 and 53. Lock 52 upriver is still operational. But first, we got to get to the junction of the Ohio River
My eyes are getting glazed and my fingers are taping incorrect letters on my cell phone as I write this. Got to finish this tomorrow. There's still that tsunami that hit me and getting to our anchorage in the dark to tell. And of course, my rugs are wet again. Fair winds and gentle seas...
As much as I had my hands full, Beth on the Mystic was having her own nightmare. Their navigation program lost all its information as they were leaving the Little Diversion Channel. Bermuda has its mysterious Triangle, we have one of our own. Read what Beth and Dave had to do to get things back to normal on her blog…
Cruising - Team Rogers: Bean Branch Creek
Comments from 2016:
Susan Christine, YOU are a magnificent storyteller Henry!!! Continued safe travels ♡
Bob Meredith Next time, a bigger vessel, a trusty crew, and the ocean!
Robin R Slike Stay safe Henry
Joanne Mandano I love it, what a great journey Mickey.
Camille Sandrock Mickey, Henry was a nurse colleague of mine in the University Hospitals Cancer Center!
Henry Krzemien RN Hi, Joanne. Meet Mickey my boat cat.
Mickey enjoys the sun as he cleans up for his dinner.
Phyllis Lemasters Mickey looks like a good sailor.
Henry Krzemien RN He will be when this trip is over.
