Anchoring and Mud on the way to Mobile Bay!

• Columbus, Mississippi to Mobile, Alabama

Our stay in Columbus, Mississippi was great, we look forward to one day returning and seeing more of this area. We wanted to get further down river and the marina wanted us out as there is a slew of boats headed our way. The few marinas available on the Tenn-Tom very much try to accommodate the southern migration of boaters and help get them off the river at night. They are spaced intermittently so many boaters need to head in at each port to put on fuel and water for the continued trip down river.

We headed out early morning as a fleet to lock down the first lock of the day which was right south of the marina. It would be the first of three locks and a 68-mile cruise to our selected anchorage just below the Howell-Heflin lock. We had seen on our tracker multiple boats anchor there in for the past few days and reached out to two friends to learn about depth and the boat ramp for taking Remy to shore. Anxiety of the first anchorage was evident with the crew, well just Tasha, Remy was clueless, and David is always (almost always) calm, cool, and collected. It’s not anchoring that causes the anxiety, we have done a lot of anchoring over the years, but always in our home waters, and always well-aware of where we can get Remy off the boat. I know this is mentioned a lot, but a 14-year-old large dog is a huge concern and commitment. No longer can she jump in and out of the dinghy, assist with getting on and off the boat, or wade in sand and mud. Remy is much more fragile and weaker than our river rat pup of a few years ago. She is Tasha’s top, and mostly only concern to the captain’s chagrin.

Back to the captain always (almost always) being calm, cool, and collected. Leaving Columbus Marina, it was dark, cold, and the flybridge glass was covered with heavy dew, and the captain was a little distracted. There was a shudder and a stop, and then a &^^%$!, &**^%#!, ^&)%$! If we all weren’t awake yet, we sure were now. We had veered slightly off course (Columbus has a very narrow, skinny, tricky approach) and run aground softly, if that is such a thing. Luckily after all the &*&$@!, we got back on track and were able to lock through with everyone. Luckily, we haven’t noticed any issues with props or shafts. Whew!  Just when we thought we were all ready to have the chamber doors close, from behind we see what looked like a battleship, no, it was a huge yacht. It was the Mimi, a 125” Burger from Minnesota. Owned by Stanley Hubbard of Hubbard Broadcasting, a radio and television company. She was a beauty and the first yacht we have seen. This will be very normal in Florida she will be smaller than many, and we will be miniscule. Though seeing her in this small lock chamber with many other boats our size and on this narrow river, she appeared and is quite large. She followed us a while, locked through two more times and then she moved on when we anchored.

It was a great day to be pleasure boating, the sun came out and warmed the crew and boat. It was our first sunshine, decent day in almost a week and it felt good. Early in our day we crossed the Mississippi / Alabama state line. It is marked by a red old fashioned telephone booth.

It certainly stands out as it is in the middle of nowhere with no signs or mention on the charts. Very much an oddity and to those who don’t know the significance, totally unexplainable. A bit of a superman moment headed down the Tenn-Tom in the middle of nowhere!

We cruised with our friends from Long Recess, who are from the greater Cincinnati area. We met them at rendezvous, and this would be our 4^th day cruising with them. Their boat is a 27’ Ranger Tug. The gray hull really makes this boat a looker. We planned to go to the Ox bow anchorage we had scouted through other boats. To our delight, three other boats in our group anchored there as well and we all went to one boat for a drink and the scoop on the day. Long Recess tied off us to anchor and we hosted dinner on the aft deck of Now or Never. These beautiful fall nights and the quiet, serene presence on the river, and enjoying it with new friends is what this trip is all about.

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There was a boat ramp, though no dock. David wrangled with the dinghy atop our aft cabin, and we gingerly got our pup into the dinghy to go ashore. She had two visits before dark and one the following morning. David watched her closely trying to keep her out of the muddy waters, but in a split second, she was in the water and swimming. Always been water dog and hasn’t has enough time in the water on this trip. The water was warmer than the air the following morning. She was a happy camper, though it is so much work for the captain. She’s going to have to learn to go on our mat on the bow, but can you teach an old dog a new trick?

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We pulled anchor and had a wonderful cruise of just under 50 miles and no locks to Kingfisher Marina in Demopolis, Alabama. The first mate has had her fill of locks, 34 to be exact, and only two more this part of the trip. It will be a while before we traverse them again. Thank goodness. They are a bit daunting at first, fascinating for a while, and then just a plain nuisance after that. The mornings are crisp (maybe cold) but then the sun shines and the day is magnificent. We left our anchorage at 8 after taking care of the pup and reeling in the dinghy, then two hours in, the white cliffs appear. I had just read a comment from a friend (hello -Barbara!) who looped a couple of years ago and indicated we would encounter the white cliffs in this area and here they appeared. We have been cruising the Tenn-Tom for over 300 miles. Three hundred miles of dirt, mud, and clay riverbanks and then, there they were, the White Cliffs of Epes, Alabama’s most underrated natural wonder. Stretching for approximately one mile, this group of historic cliffs is made of layers of the Selma Chalk Formation. Over time, the natural wonder has become more and more exposed due to the rushing river water. They stand about 30’ tall. The cliffs were deposited about the same time as England’s White Cliffs of Dover, which are approximately 70-million-years-old. Amazing to see this wonder along the river in rural Alabama.

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Kingfisher Bay Marina was a pleasant surprise. We had such a great visit in Columbus, we were not expecting another. It is a new marina (within 10 years) and the owners are on site and take great pride in their facility. New docks, new and very clean baths and laundry, a great cruisers lounge and a great rooftop party deck. We wished we could have stayed two nights, the marina certainly warranted a longer stay than one night, but we wanted to leave before lock work at the next lock would have it closed for the better part of the next day. There would be a chance we could get through at first light, but if there were any commercial vessels in que, that would delay us yet another day. This would be the perfect place to be delayed, but with the number of boats coming behind us down the river, impending rain later in the week, and two to three anchor nights ahead, we chose to move out after one night.

David attended a captain’s meeting for the following day’s departure. With so many on the same course, the rivers being narrow, and the multitude of locks, all tend to plan together so that all can motor down river as efficiently as possible. In an ideal world, the faster traveling boats go into the locks first so when departing they can get up and go, not wake others, and not have to pass in narrow waters. It makes for a much better cruise if all follow this procedure. But there is always one that messes up the whole plan. After the meeting, we joined new boat friends Sniper’s Hide on the dock and Long Recess who hosted a chili dinner. It was a great evening, but it’s amazing how dark it gets when you are in the middle of nowhere. We went our separate ways by 8 and Tasha and Remy walked up the ramp and along the grounds. It was pitch dark, not a soul was seen, very few boat lights, and the sky was filled with stars. A little bit of an eerie feeling as everyone heads in so early exhausted from the days cruise.

We departed pre-dawn again to head to an anchorage near Coffeeville Lock. We had one lock and 100 miles to go. It was going to be a long day, but we chose to travel two long days over an additional night at anchor. Twelve boats left the marina for the first lock together, it was pretty sight to see everyone aligned with their navigational lights on and the sun starting to rise behind us. What was supposed to be an organized start to the day based on the captains meeting the afternoon prior, turned into somewhat organized chaos. It only takes one, and this one didn’t come to the meeting, and didn’t have his radio on. Who doesn’t have their radio on?

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We found this to be true for most of the day as people would call to pass them to no avail. When we came up on a major river dredging process, the dredge operators kept giving them directions that they were not heeding. After almost running aground, they called the dredge operator for instructions. The dredge operator told them he had already told them several times yellow buoy on your port. A voice from the boat indicated; I didn’t have my radio on. Who embarks on a 6000-mile trip, with commercial and pleasure craft abound and doesn’t keep their radio on? Was that mentioned before? We tried to find an anchorage again near a boat ramp to no avail. We are now in banjo and gator county and there is nothing at all in the area, just the serenity of the river.

There is one barge, a so called marina, really just a spot on the river where boats tie off to the tune of $1.50 a foot. There is power if you are one of the first three boats there, after that you raft off with no power. You too get to pay $1.50 a foot. (The river is full of nice places from $.50 to $1.50 / a foot. This is not one of those places). There used to be a restaurant. No more. They have fuel, but you wait until everyone clears out in the morning as there is no room to other than where people are tied. And the owners have been known to say things not very supportive of the looper community. Six of the boats we started with went there. For us, unless we were on the inside, there was no advantage for us as we couldn’t get Remy off the boat anyway. And the principle of charging full price to all even though many do not get power wasn’t very keen to us.

We anchored in the mouth of Turkey Creek, a Choctaw National Wildlife Refuge. One boat anchored a little further back and we both dealt with bass fishermen entering and exiting the creek most of the night. Let’s just say, they are very outspoken if a boat wakes them on the river, but they had no problem waking pleasure craft within feet of them anchored at night. The anchor was peaceful and pitch dark prior to 7, and we might have heard banjos.

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It was an anxiety driven night, again, with Remy in mind. There was nowhere to take her ashore, and we were in an area where alligators start to be seen. We have a grass mat that she has never used (our fault we didn’t work with her prior to departure in June), and they say when they must go, they’ll go. But she has been the perfect dog from the start when it comes to knowing where and when to relieve herself. But it was agonizing seeing her anxiety of not going ashore. The first half dozen times we took her to the bow and told her to potty on the mat, she laid down on it. Kind of like oh, wow, how nice of you to get me a grass mat to lay on. This continued all evening and into the morning. This is a dog at home who can hold it when it is her choice, we struggled that we are forcing it on our old girl.

David and Tasha took turns taking her to the bow every 10 to 15 minutes all the next morning while we were cruising down the river. You could tell she had to go and looked to us to take her ashore, but she continued to hold it. 28 hours into her ordeal, right after she had come in from the bow with total encouragement to go, she relieved herself on the aft deck. This is our back porch that is carpeted. Not ideal, but she had to go. Luckily, we had a dog mat down used for water and mud and that is where she went. Most of it was absorbed into this mat. We took it to the bow also, but she still wouldn’t go again on it.

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The day went better after that. We had another long day, 81 miles, but again, this would knock off one night of anchoring. We arrived at our anchorage and David was determined to get our girl to shore. We had passed miles of sandy shores that the Corps of Engineers were dredging on the river and unbeknownst to us just passed a boat ramp 2 miles from where we anchored (we were busy looking out the other side). We arrived at the anchorage with 8 additional boats and could find nowhere to take her. David cruised the banks and ended up taking her where he thought might be a good place. It wasn’t. It was low tide; we were below the last lock and the water level on the banks now changed with the tides. Remy jumped out of the dinghy like a young pup, she wanted to potty, and just like that, all four legs stuck in the mud to her belly. She wears a harness and luckily David was able to scoop her up and get her further up the bank, all while he was in mud to his knees. She was able to get all her business done but was quite the mess to clean up upon their return. David, Remy, and the dinghy were all washed down well on the swim platform before boarding the boat. We had a happy pup though. it was a beaitiful anchorage on the Tensaw River. Wide with room for tens of boats to anchor.

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That night, the first mate could not sleep, still worried about Remy, so she got up and did some research of where they could go to shore. This is when they found out they had passed a boat ramp with dock two miles up the river. That would be a quick dinghy ride, and all would be happy.

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As we prepared for the trip to the boat ramp at first light, all 8 boats at our anchorage departed for the journey to Mobile Bay, our last leg for this part of the trip. We would be at least an hour behind by the time David and Remy went ashore and we reloaded the dinghy to the top of the boat. Something told Tasha to make sure David had his life jacket on and Remy had hers. Remy got a new life jacket for this trip with two handles for easier lifting and it still had the tags on it. We strapped it on her to her dismay. David and Remy were off around the bend onto the main river where Tasha could not see them. An eerie aloneness swept over her. Can you hear banjo’s during daylight? David also took a radio, told Tasha to make sure she had the one on Now or Never on channel 16 and he had his cellphone which would be of no use as there was no signal. Ten minutes or so later, David calls Tasha on the radio (this never happens), he tells her to be ready with the boat hook. Hmm, by the tone of his voice, Tasha could tell something was wrong, but also tell he did not want to share it on the radio where others could hear. Tasha saw them emerge from around the bend in Remy’s Ride (our dinghy’s name), and they were putzing along, slow, very slow. As they got closer, they were both covered in mud. As true to our relationship when stuff happens (good or bad) we grab our cameras. Tasha took pictures of her crew before even asking what was wrong, not sure she wanted to ask.

Seems the hub had spun on the prop on the way to the boat ramp (they never made it). David was fearful they wouldn’t make it back to Now or Never as the boat was around the corner on an adjoining river and it was upstream back to the Now or Never. He wondered how Tasha could maneuver Now or Never to get to he and Remy. David also knew he had to get Remy ashore. So, they stopped again in the mud, and there she sunk again to her belly, and when David went to free Remy, he sunk to above his knees and had to lay on the dinghy to free himself and Remy. She did get to pee, but that was all, they limped back to the Now or Never, a muddy mess. It took us over an hour to get everyone and the dinghy cleaned up enough to board the boat. We were now a good two hours behind our cruising partners, though the next wave of boats and two we were acquainted with were just behind us, reminding us, we have a lot of friends on the water, and we need to keep a look out for all. Also, a good lesson learned by this crew, we can never be too safety conscience and need to plan out everything and always have life jackets, safety equipment, and a plan in place. We became too comfortable and complacent on what was like our home waters, and we are not in Kansas anymore. One can never be too careful on the water.

After a cool cleaning off on the swim platform, David took a long hot shower; did we fail to mention it was 46 out when he and Remy were playing in the water? We headed out, turned the generator on, and Tasha made eggs, sausage, and toast for her crew (she never makes breakfast!). This was a treat and got everyone back in the spirit of heading to the Gulf and Mobile Bay. As we cruised the forty miles to Mobile Bay, the scenery began to change.

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The normal trees were replaced with tropical greens, the water a little muddier, and some remnants of recent years hurricanes. We had no idea other than major commercial traffic of what to expect as we came into Mobile, there was another lift bridge and we passed under I-65 again and known by the locals as the Dolly Parton bridge.

And then, commercial traffic was everywhere. We went from countryside to commercial in the snap of a finger. What we did not expect was the number of military vessels. They were building several just across from all the container ship areas. It was quite a site.

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It was also sad to see the number of container ships, and the number of containers on the ships and ground, and not a soul to be seen working on either the ships or the ground. It was like a container ghost yard. Very said that are country can’t get their ship together!

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And then we arrived, a parting of the commercial area gave way to Mobile Bay. The weather was gloomy, and the bay was hazy, but what we could see was big, big water. We’ve been on the great lakes before, but never in our boat, this was big water with a lot of wind and chop. We were not quite ready, but off we went. We had 14 miles to travel to Dog River and The Grand Mariner Marina and Restaurant where we would wind down for a few days. We rocked and rolled all the way to Dog River, trying to follow the channel markers which were hidden in the haze, and avoid the crab pots that appeared out of nowhere.

Mobile Bay is large but very shallow in many places and the Now or Never was the only vessel in sight. After about an hour and a half, we went under the big bridge and arrived in Dog River. There are three choices for docking in Dog River and we chose Grand Mariner and from the initial communication to the southern hospitality welcome, we know it’s going to be a great stop!

We are now in salt water, tidal waters, and half the river leg done (the other half will be at the end of our loop as we journey home). Time to celebrate and prepare for the gulf coast. And time for Remy to have some grass and walking time!

Cheers! D, T & R

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