And fini for the Miss Patricia

 Thursday 14 January 2021 Southport, FL

We were underway at 0615 from an entirely peaceful night with no wind after sunset with just enough light to see the buoys as we entered the channel.  We had seen evidence of storm damage (Sally) all along the waterway starting in Orange Beach, and we kept seeing more evidence until we left the channel at Fort Walton and moved on out into the broad Choctawhatchee Bay which in places was glassy calm.  The strongest wind we had all day was experienced as we moored the boat at our home when the sea breeze picked up. 

The whole trip was uneventful, and we arrived with 15 gallons in the starboard tank and 30 in the port.  Starting back in Homeport Marina where we topped off the tanks, we burned 195 gallons of gasoline going 130 miles at mostly 2400-ish RPM or 1.5 gallons per mile.  This includes near-continuous generator running, except for seven hours while sleeping at anchor.

After we arrived home at 1300, we spent a couple of hours getting our belongings off the boat and cleaning it up before we told Frank we were home.  He quickly arrived, and I spent an hour or so with him going over connecting to shore power and starting and bringing the generator online before a friend of his showed up for a quick tour.

Frank wants to take the boat back down our track 48 miles to Baytowne Marina near San Destin.  He and a friend will show up here tomorrow morning with about twenty gallons of gas to put into the starboard tank to ensure we will have enough to run the ten miles to the fuel dock at Saint Andrews Marina.  I will accompany them that far to give Frank an underway tutorial and below decks tour while his friend runs the boat, and Mary will pick me up at the fuel dock before they depart for San Destin where they will be met by others driving there.

We found our house very cold due to a faulty heat pump.  We have our propane gas log and oil-filler radiator heaters running as well as the smaller heat pump in the new addition to the house to get temperatures to the bearable point while waiting on the repairman.

Thus, ends another delivery encountering no undue hazards and no damage to vessel or vessel or persons.

Okay, we're halfway home from where we were last.

 Wednesday 13 January 2021 Spectre Island Anchorage off Hurlburt USAFB

After getting underway a little after 0700 this morning, we anchored at 1400 behind this island named for the famous Spectre gunships which we can see flying over the island as I write this.  The weather has cleared with no clouds in the sky for the first time in days, and the calm water sparkles with the reflected sun.  The water is so clear compared to the muddy rivers and Mobile Bay giving us a white wake for the first time of this delivery that I can see our anchor on the bottom in 8-9 feet of water.  We stopped the boat in Santa Rosa Sound about an hour before we arrived to reset the Fortress anchor from its mud position to the anticipated sand here at the island.  As always, I use a snubber to hold the strain from the anchor rode.

The GIWW runs on the other side (north) of the island, and this favorable anchorage is between Santa Rosa Island (the many miles long barrier island stretching from Fort Walton Beach to Pensacola) and Spectre Island.  It is approximately seven steaming hours from home.

Windfinder.com shows winds building from astern of us after noon tomorrow, but by then we should be across 23-mile long Choctawhatchee Bay and into the narrow 15-mile cut (called the Grand Canyon by towboat people and locals) which leads into our home system of bays.  Then we will run through our own West Bay and turn up to the NE heading into North Bay and into good old Fanning Bayou.

As we passed through Big Lagoon west of Pensacola, I was reminded of my salad days as a junior high school age kid helping to launch the family boat at Sherman Cove on the Naval Air Station which is on the northern shore to run across the lagoon to the north shore of the barrier island.  The boat was filled with several kids a set of parents and all the supplies and sun cover Mom could cram in there.  We often had accompanying boats with the families of Dad's friends from work.  Once anchored a few yards off the beach, we would ferry all the shoreside base supplies ashore before beginning the water skiing events which ended when we waved into shore for lunch.  Hot, tiered, sandy, and thoroughly satisfied with our activities for the day, we returned to Sherman remembering to duck for the very low bridge crossing its entrance to then watch or participate as our abilities dictated in the complex and oddly entertaining boat recovery dance Dad had devised to to re-trailer the boat.  Today I noted the low bridge has been removed to allow taller boats to pass, and I was happy to see that the marina seems to be hurricane damage free and thriving for the military folks who can take advantage of it.

We have noted plenty of river flooding damage and even more direct hurricane damage everywhere along the Gulf coast.

As we finally near the end of this jaunt, we are trying to get the accounts and inventory ready for Frank who wants to immediately start using the boat.  Mary was hard at the inventory sheets today trying to figure out where various items had gotten to.

On the engineering side, seven hours of running at mostly 2400 RPM to make 10 MPH showed little oil use, and the generator, run the same amount of time also showed no oil use.  We ran through 86 gallons of gasoline getting 62 miles today.  The stbd tank was 5 gallons lower that the port owing to the generator drawing from it all day.

Halfway to where? Just go home.

Tuesday 12 December 2021 Homeport Marina in Gulf Shores, AL

We were snug in our sheltered slip last night and knowing the winds were not to die down until around lunch, we slept in and made breakfast late. 

Underway at 1150, our run down the long, narrow channel leading from Dog River down to the ship channel was calm.  Power setting was about 2500 RPM to achieve 10 MPH or a bit more in the shallow channel.  When we got to the deeper ship channel, the “squat” we had experienced in the boat channel ceased and we picked up speed to almost 12 MPH.  The throttle was eased back to about 2400 to keep us on the ten-MPH goal for the 35-mile run.

The seas picked up a bit as the fetch astern increased, and we comfortably sailed directly down sea all the way across the Bay.  With no auto-pilot and no really good steering compass, aside from the small car compass I stuck on the consoles before we left Wheeler Park, maintaining the route I had laid down in my Coastal Explorer chart plotting software was an observational exercise in which I corrected any off-track errors by steering to a general area of the small compass.  At times we could steer by just maintaining a slightly left of straight down sea course.  Once objects on the land area ahead became visible in the last third of the run across the Bay, we were able to steer for whichever object kept us near the route line.

Halfway across the 25-mile route angling southeasterly, Frank called to ask if we could get the boat as far as some place east of Escambia Bay (Pensacola).  His reason was that he had been studying the weather and had found Saturday to be a seriously windy day with predictions of thirty-plus MPH gusts.  I immediately began a search for a slip anywhere in Santa Rosa Sound or the Fort Walton or Destin area as someplace we could go to tomorrow after leaving this marina.  The results were dismal as no marina had a spare slip due in large part to all available slips in the area from Orange Beach to Panama City being occupied by local as a result of being displaced by hurricane damage to marinas over the last two years.  The main reason we needed a slip was to transfer us off and Frank and his guest onto the boat on Friday afternoon.  We have a good anchorage we like 62 miles east of here called Spectre Island, but that would not suit for a vessel turnover.

In the end it was decided that we would just take the boat all the way to Panama City, another 130 miles for a total of about 690 miles for this delivery.  At least we will be getting home a day early as our ETA is now Thursday.

We arrived here at 1430 and refueled having used 52 gallons of gasoline in 35 miles, or 1.48 gallons to the mile.  Dinner at Lulu’s was a disappointment for our last meal on Frank.  Stick with their sandwich menu.

Brother Jim and wife Jackie came to visit and exchange Xmas gifts with us, all socially distanced on the pier.

 

So tomorrow, Spectre Island anchorage, and the next day home. 

Into the big water

Monday 11 January 2021 Dog River Marina, Mobile

Despite the impending rough overnight weather forecast we spent a restful night at anchor (using my Fortress FX37 on mud setting) in the Tensaw River about a mile from the 40-mile mark of the Tombigbee Waterway which at that point is actually in the Mobile River.  Confused?  There was sufficient current to keep us steady with no yawing, and winds were light all night despite rain starting at 0200. 

The generator was shut down at bedtime for several reasons including potential for general mayhem like fire and dealing with carbon monoxide alarms going off.  The unit itself is very quiet despite the fact that it is directly under the bed, but even this one displays the common disquieting (at least to me) loading/unloading noises as the air condition systems start and stop.  The temperature outside was 39F and 51F inside at 0500 when I got up and started it to warm the interior preparatory to rousting Mary out of her warm nest of quilts.

We were underway in the pre-dawn rain and general grungy weather and entered to Mobile River to head to that fair city by dawn, although you couldn’t tell much difference in the gloom.  We overtook or passed several tows on the way south, and with only 54 miles to run, we kept the RPMs to 1800 running at 10.2 MPH with the current and sticked the tanks at a one-hour interval to find we were burning 10-12 gallons of gas an hour. 

We briefly reversed course into the current to get an understanding of our “still water” speed, which turned out to be about 8.6 MPH.  With a theoretical hull speed of 10.06 MPH computed at 1.32 times the square root of the hull length in feet times 1.15 to convert to MPH, this might seem a bit slower than the hull would economically support, but some would say that a more conservative 1.0 times the square root of the hull length in feet (resulting in 7.6 MPH), is a better option.  So we were running is a sweet spot between the two options for hull speed, and the boat and engine combination is very quiet at this speed.  The boat is very quiet underway as a result of the engines being all the way aft.  This was the first day we did not have one of our three carbon monoxide detectors sound off while underway.

The winds continued to build from the north as we headed south, and by the time we exited the close confines of the harbor area, the following seas were beginning to build.  The boat rode the 2-3 foot wind waves well enough, but seven miles south of the harbor, where the seas were pretty well built up, we had to turn 90 degree to starboard presenting our beam to the seas giving us quite a jostling.  We had prepared for this by taping the refrigerator doors closed and removing all loose items to safe locations.  Eventually I discovered a higher power setting for the engines which somewhat moderated the rolling motions.

We arrived at the Dog River Marina dock with 78 gallons of our 240-gallon capacity remaining after 131 miles of travel.  With gale force winds predicted for tonight, we were happy to be offered a slip inside the basin rather than the normal transient dock along the Dog River.

The plan for tomorrow is to await the forecasted easing of conditions on Mobile Bay so we can run the mostly southeasterly 24-mile run across the Bay in the afternoon.  Then we enter the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway and travel a few miles to Homeport Marina where Lulu’s (Jimmy Buffet’s sister) Restaurant is located.  There we will clean up the boat, collect most of our possessions, and hand over the boat to Frank when he arrives on Friday afternoon, and drive his car back home to Southport to await his arrival on the boat on Sunday. 

Maximum frustration

 

Sunday 10 January 2021 Tensaw River Anchorage

I am not sure why, but the lowest outdoor temperatures we have been seeing at night are quite a bit higher than the forecasted temps, while the daytime temps seem to match up fairly well.  Our lowest temp last night was 39F as opposed to the drastic landside forecast of 25F.  Must be the water moderating our local conditions.

Today our fabulous lock luck failed in the most spectacular fashion.

I got up at 0400 this morning at Bobby’s Fish Camp and over a period of almost an hour, I tried calling the Coffeeville lock just three miles downstream from us.  There was no tug traffic going by us toward or from the lock, and the VHF radio was dead on both channel 16 and 14.  With no success on the phone, I finally resorted to the radio at 0500, starting on channel 16 shifting to 14.  I asked the person who answered the call what our prospects were for a passage of the lock within a short time period.  His laconic and extremely weak strength response was simply, “Come on down and call when you arrive.”  It was like he was talking to the radio mike from across the room.  EVERY other of the 13 lock masters we contacted throughout this delivery would state that we should either come to the lock because the lock was clear of higher priority traffic or that we would be encountering higher priority traffic and should delay getting underway if we were at a marine nearby.

We arrived shortly thereafter and called the lock operator who then informed us in the same vague voice that we would be having to wait our turn after the tug Brian Boudreaux.  There is absolutely no way this man did not know that tug was on the way and would interfere with our passage.  He should have told me this so I could make up my own mind about getting underway in the pitch dark.  I can only attribute this to one extremely poor attitude or blind incompetence.  In my opinion there was time for him to lock us down and turn the lock around for the tug, but it was the unconcerned attitude of the lock operator which made me angry.

That was bad enough, but as we waited for the Boudreaux to lock through, I asked the lock master if we were next to which he responded, “You are going to have to wait for the next tug.”  Incredulously, there was another tug within a couple of miles he had AGAIN refused to inform us about a tug's presence, for both the tug’s and our safety in the tight confines near the lock.  I told him in very graphic language that I was departing and heading back to the pier at Bobby’s Fish Camp and did not appreciate be literally kept in the dark about what was going on.  This was the most unprofessional lock master I ever encountered in the dozens of lock passages I have made over the last few years.

We spent an hour or so at Bobby’s to have a quick breakfast and to outwait this idiot lock operator’s shift which ended at 0700.  When I overheard the departing comments of the second tug, I called the new duty lock master on the radio and was quite pleased to hear a clear and strong voice telling me good morning and that all was clear for us to lock down, and he was true to his word.  His radio procedure was precise, and his good attitude was one we have come to expect of lock masters.  I am certain that this second lock master would have provided us the information we would have needed to remain in place at Bobby’s until it was safe to run down to the lock not having to avoid two tugs in the dark.  When I complained about his predecessor, he promptly gave me the name of the supervisor to whom I spoke the next morning and to whom I forwarded the above comments.

Once clear of the awful lock experience, we were free at last to travel at our chosen speed without further lock interferences.  However, this two-and-a-half-hour delay quashed all hope of making it to the Dog River Marina by sunset, and we throttled back a few hundred RPM to arrive at this anchorage by 1500.  We noted a lot of evidence of recent flooding damage, and many buoys were missing; so we ran the boat along a track I had laid down on the computer which honored the missing buoys just as if they were still there.  We had a few tugs to overtake of pass on opposite courses, and all went well.

There is no significant traffic through this small river, and there is enough current to keep the boat straight behind its anchor, one of my own Fortress FX37s I brought along. 

We used 105 gallons of gas and ran 78 miles for the day.  Tomorrow, we will run the remaining 54 miles to Dog River Marina and hopefully depart Tuesday for our final 35 mile run to Homeport Marina near Lulu’s (Jimmy Buffet’s sister) Restaurant in Orange Beach/Gulf Shores.

Rollin' on down the river

 

Saturday 9 January 2021 Bobby’s Fish Camp near Coffeeville, AL

This day went well, as we got underway at 0620 and were through the Demopolis lock by 0710.  We ran at 2500 RPM making up to 13-plus MPH at times.  Along the way the overcast and leafless trees on either bank made for a very dreary passage, but at least the blinding glare of the winter sun we have experienced on sunny days was not an issue.  In total, we saw one southbound tow, two northbound tows, one yacht bound for Chattanooga from Annapolis, various bird life and two pigs swimming the river, one adult and one piglet.  Goodness knows what forced those two into the river.

Upon arrival at Bobby’s, we went alongside their tee-dock at the south end where the fuel pump is located.  An earlier phone call to the listed number connected me to a Laura Jane who admitted to ownership of the place and who told me that she would send her husband down to attend to the fueling but that we would wait a bit for him to show.  Apparently, they do not live on premises which in addition to the office and former restaurant up the hill a hundred yards consists of a few small ramshackle waterfront houses which I would term “rustic” with the associated pickup trucks and detritus found in “alternative” communities.

An hour after we arrived the man of the hour, decked out in full camouflage, arrived in his Gator four-wheeler and shouted down the hill that I could start pumping.  With winds roaring right down the river and air temperature 41 degrees Fahrenheit, pumping 120 gallons of gas into the tanks was a chilly process indeed.

During the last hour of our run today, we picked up speed to 2800 RPM to see how the engines behaved and the associated fuel usage.  Remembering that this boat ran at 4400 RPM making 22 MPH during its sea trial, there was not much concern for bad things happening.  By sticking the tanks both before and after the hour-long test, we found that the boat uses 20 gallons of gasoline per hour at that RPM and that with the push of the river, we were making 14 MPH. 

This information helps us determine if we will be anchoring out north of Mobile tomorrow or if perchance, we could make the entire 130-mile run through that city and to Dog River Marine 14 miles south of it.  We need a reserve of 10-20% of our fuel to ensure we don’t end up running short which means there is roughly 200 of our 240 gallons of gas we can plan to burn.  At 2800 PRM making at least 13 MPH, we would arrive in ten hours just at sunset (we have no radar) having burned 200 gallons.  Coffeeville lock, two miles away, will be our last lock before entering tidal waters where our predictable river current no longer pertain.  If we stop making that 13 MPH speed due to tidal effects, we will be in the dark arriving at Dog River as well as eating into our reserve fuel supply.  We will see how things go tomorrow and play it by ear as we near the anchorage north of the city.

Tonight’s low temperature is predicted to be 25 degrees F.

Ready in all respects for sea, sir!

Friday 8 January 2021 Demopolis, AL

The Vacuflush toilet motor, piston and pressure valve arrived today as did the piezo-electric alarm for the firefighting system in the engine room.  All were duly installed (I only had to disassemble the vacuum generator on the toilet system once to resolve a leaking o-ring.  Thus, we are in all respects ready for sea, or at least to proceed on to Bobby’s Fish Camp, about 93 miles down the waterway.

The plan is to call the Demopolis lock master (the dam is just a couple of miles away) on the phone at around 0530 tomorrow morning to get a handle on when he can give us a drop.  If it looks bad, back to sleep; otherwise, it will be hurry up and get moving!  That will be our only lock for the day.  Our last of fourteen locks is the Coffeeville lock just a mile or so south of Bobby’s Fish Camp where we will repeat tomorrow’s plan in an effort to see how far we can run in one day.  The rain we had over the last two days, while not an inundation, should give us a pretty good shove downstream as we exit the locks.  Winds are forecast from the NNW and not too strong tomorrow and more northerly but lighter the next day.  We are hoping for enough sun to help warm the cabin because it is going to be in the low forties both days.