Friday August 18, 2017
At the mercy of Joe
Blow
Today was a bit longer than it needed to be because of some Joe
Blows working on the LaGrange Dam lock.
We spent a relatively quiet night at Illinois River mile 57.5 anchored
in the 1 MPH current just outside the red nun buoy south of a nondescript
little hunk of lozenge-shape land with the grandiose name of Big Blue
Island. The river is so low that we
could not find deep enough water to get into the preferred anchorage between it
and the river bank. I watched the AIS
display on the plotter to see when any tows were on the way down river from the
LaGrange lock 23 miles upstream. Due to ongoing
maintenance work on the lock, no vessels can transit the lock between 0600 and
1700. I figured that by the time the
first down bound tow backed up behind the lock could pass by us would be late
at night. Eventually, I was able to see
the tows headed our way in the chart plotter which displays their AIS date
transmitted from their transponders to our receiver. The good thing about the AIS installation we
have here in Pathfinder is that is also transmits our position, course, speed,
and name to everybody else with a receiver.
That way, the tremendously big tows running up and downstream a mere 300
feet from our cockleshell can see us for miles before they get to us and plan
their passage by us accordingly. And, of
course, we also have our anchor light.
Watching an approaching tow in the utter blackness of night which seems
to be the norm on remote rivers is almost eerie. Along with a low rumble like the sound of a
very slowly approaching freight train.
Soon there is a blazing blue-white shaft of light like a light saber on
steroids shot across the bend upriver and illuminating the opposite bank with
an almost physical force. The next
visible clue to what is coming is a blinking yellow light indication the center
of the forward barges and either a red or green sidelight. Then a long blackness as the barges emerge
around the corner. Finally, the towboat
itself emerges with is blazing pair of searchlights above the bridge and
numerous yellowish deck lights. Imagine
what it is like up in the third or fourth story darkened pilot house handling the
4-6,000 horsepower engines and those blazing lights moving at the glacial speed
of 4.6 MPH. Finally the two yellow
lights in a vertical array are visible as the tow passes indicating to any
vessel astern that there is a towing operation in progress ahead.
So anyway, we avoided being trampled by one of those behemoths and
got moving toward the LaGrange lock to make the promised noon lunch break for
the construction crew at which time the lock tenders have been putting through
pleasure vessels and other smallish loads.
So there we were at 1150, tied up on the lock wing wall a few feet from
the closed lock chamber gates watching the workers across the way NOT acting
like lunch hour was arriving. Noon
arrives and nothing changes – aren’t they hungry? 1205 and the lock tender radios us that the
workers are NOT taking a break but that they will quit early. Oh great!
Four hours of more sitting. Then
about 20 minutes later the lock tender announces that the workers have taken a
fifteen minute break and that locking through will commence immediately. And about 20 minutes later we are FREE and
flying northward as fast as our four little propeller blades can spin.
The next viable anchorage was 40 miles north, and a big delay at
the lock would have SNAFU’d our plans big time.
In the event, we got to Havana, IL 120 miles up the Illinois River and
into a decent anchorage near a coal loading facility by 1830. And then a thunderstorm roared through. At least it had the decency to do so before
bedtime.
