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.
