Close, way (way) to close

We woke up pretty early this morning. First Light was the first boat in a line of boats tied up bow to stern along the wall. Since we were up and moving, we decided to just keep on moving until we were underway. The departure prep went smooth and a bit before 0700 we were back on the river.

The first plan was a four hour day to end on a dock owned by a restaurant. One can stay the night in exchange for having dinner there. Deb had talked to them several times yesterday and we knew that there was little space. So she called again today15 minutes before they were officially open to grab a spot. But two of our companion boats for the last couple of days called even earlier. They were bigger boats so...no space at the inn, literally.

The next plan was to stay on the town's free dock. It had some pretty poor reviews including having uninvited people board the boats in the dark hours of the night. Once upon a time, I might have just shrugged and said, “fine, fish need fed.” But those days are long gone. Other reviews were not near as harsh. But when we motored by, the place looked like a ghetto dock. Pass.

The plan after that plan was to just continue on and add tomorrow's route to today's. It would make for a pretty long day but would knock off two travel days in one go. And it would end up at what was reported as a nice anchorage with easy access and lots of room for boats. A hitch in that plan was a lock that had been a part of tomorrow's plan now being in today's plan. There was no telling how long it would take to clear it, time that would be added to a now 10 hour day.

It turned out to be a bit more than two hours. We waited it out anchored next to a new “buddy boat” we had picked up just as they cleared the marina entrance where they had spent the night. It looked like they were going to be faster than us. We radioed them ship to ship to let them know we were slowing down to let them slide into the channel ahead of us and take the lead. It turned out they were hading for the same anchorage we were. But the already long day was stretched a bit more by the lock delay.

Today's buddy boat, MV Knot Golfing, a Prestige F500 beautiful boat

After clearing the lock, we headed off down the Illinois River, our new traveling companions pulling a slight lead as we went along. It went that way for several hours as we twisted our way down the sometimes narrow channel. The river itself was seriously wide in some spots, not so much in others. And it is much prettier and way more remote than I would have guessed.

As we neared the end of the trip, literally just two bends away from entering the anchorage, and in a narrower part of the river, a barge called our traveling companion and asked if he would hold outside of the rather tight bend that lay between us and the anchorage. Both crews were really ready to be done for the day, but pleasure boats that tangle with tows always come out on the bottom (no pun intended). 

There was some discussion as to where would be the best place to hold, with one idea being to hold position just outside of the channel marker for the barge to pass. I wasn't a fan of that option as just outside the channel marker could be pretty shallow water. Instead, I moved back in the direction from which we had come to let the barge make the corner and get on a straight bit. Our friends did the same and, with our buddy boat now to our stern, the two of us just passed the tow inside the channel. Easy. 

After we passed the tow, I started into the turn, my line of sight now free of the tow and the tree-lined shore. Much to my surprise, a second tow was already in the bend and heading straight for us. This thing was so wide that two tugs were doing the pushing, completely filling the channel. My first impulse was to stop, turn around, and outrun them to the straight part were we could negotiate a reasonable pass. Alas, our traveling companion and the tow were too close to make that a safe option.

Deb suggested I just stop. We were already outside of the red and the tow was nearly on us. I disagreed with enthusiasm for several reasons. The first being we were very close to the marker, as in just a few feet off the starboard bow. Second, First Light is not a particularly easy boat to hold still in one place. Third, the tow, while not making much of a bow wake, was churning up a monster wheel wake with two tugs trying to twist the raft of barges around the corner. And fourth, I was already in 5 feet of water in a boat that draws four and a half. But by then it was too late to do anything but try to do what Deb had suggested. I was not at all sure I could pull it off, but there was no choice then but to try and make it happen. So I tried, and it worked. (Always listen to the smart person on the boat.) 

It was close though. Way, way too close. I aimed First Light at the moving target of the starboard aft corner of the barge closest to us, leading it to get as close as I could and back into the channel at the earliest possible moment. As we cleared the massive island of moving steel, I brought the power up to our normal 8 knot cruising setting and plowed into the wheel wake, still not at all sure I could keep the boat off the shallows. Deb kept reading off the depth as I wrestled with the thrust levers and helm and, just like that, all was well.

The first tow Captain had been professional enough to call and make arrangements for a safe passage. But he never let us know that there was a bigger, meaner tow right behind him. Whoever the Captain was on that tow never called, and never answered our radio calls to try and come up with a plan. I have to say that my generally high opinion of professional river mariners took a bit of a nose dive. He near to ran us down without making a sound. And when I say “near” I'm talking feet, not yards, not boat lengths, feet. Our buddy boat was back far enough to get a little warning, but pretty much had to do the same thing to miss getting chewed up. It was not pretty.

Just a few hundred yards after the near miss lay the anchorage entrance. We are hooked, secured, and really, really tired. I'm guessing it took a while for my heart rate to return to normal. So close to the end of the trip and yet another close call. 

But at least we squeezed two day's travel into one. Tomorrow we will start with the plan that was was the day after tomorrow's plan...I think.

MV Pipe Dream. We met these folks at the very beginning of our trip in Chesapeake City, MD

A Defever 47, one of our "lottery boats"

We watched as an Asian Carp jumped out of the water and landed in the piles of sand on 

this barge. He was unsuccessful at returning to the water. They jumped all over the place

in our wake almost the entire day, just like the dolphins do.

A tug maintenance facility

Couldn't figure out how in the world they got this tug up there.

King Pelicans! If you can't have dolphins greet you, then the pelicans work just fine. They

use the Mississippi Flyway to migrate to the south for the winter and we used to see them

at Carlyle Lake this time of year.

Bad picture but it was just too far away for my iPhone camera

New with illusions of old

The only lock for today was about an hour and a half away from the marina. An 0630 call to the lockmaster gave good news. If we got a move on, the lock would be ready for us when we arrived. So four of the five boats from yesterday pulled in lines, fired up engines, and got a move on. The fifth boat from yesterday was going to spend and extra day at Heritage. I silently  bid them  fair winds and following seas as they are good folk. Though that was kind of silly seeing we that we are all in a river with boats that have motors.

The river today was a totally different river from yesterday's industry-laden waterway. We passed a few places where barges were beached and a tug terminal or two. But for the most part it was 40 miles of water, trees, a few dear, some eagles, and a whole lot of not much else. It was also really wide, though staying in the channel was still necessary. Just because it is wide from side to side doesn't mean it is deep from side to side. There were many a place where the birds were standing bird ankle deep in water while a long way from shore...and not all that far from the boat.

The water levels are very low this year as evidenced by the exposed tree roots.

At the end of the day, we tied up to a wall at Henry Harbor Marina, a wall that is actually an old decommissioned lock. The old lock was the first lock ever built on the Illinois River and was constructed in 1870 for a total cost of $400,000.  What is left of the lock is a rock wall with bent hoops of rebar cemented into the top of the wall to use as cleats. Every fender we own is hung between us and that wall. Care is required when walking as much of the top of the wall is covered with loose rock and shale. It is a twisted ankle waiting to happen. But there is power and water and the owner/operators, Fran and David, are the best kind of helpful.

I did have a weird thing happen while I was closing up the flybridge. I glanced up over the bow and was a bit surprised and being absolutely sure I had been in this place before. It was a classic case of Deja Vu. It doesn't happen often, but it is also something I have experienced from time to time. Those who know me well know there isn't an ounce of wooist in me anywhere. I loves me some mythology, but that is about as far as my “other worldly” interests go. There is zero chance I have ever been in this place before, and a less than zero chance that I looked at it from the flybridge of a 42' trawler named “First Light.”  So I got me a good chuckle along with the reminder that the human brain is really, really good at fooling itself. Something I think we should all remind ourselves from time to time. It just might make our collective passing this way a bit more tolerable. 

So here we are, safe and secure at a truly unique “marina” and sharing space with a couple of crews we have been traveling with for several days now. Which is still a new experience for us.

Leaving Heritage Harbor in Ottawa, IL

The Starved Rock Lock. MV Finito and MV Lily Pad

MV Finito. A truly spectacular Flemming 55

MV Sparkling Star, a Sea Ray 390

No more pretty blue water...

The view from the wall at Henry Harbor

Not brief but a good briefing

Today was a pretty easy day with one exception. That would be the nearly 4 -hour delay getting through the Marseilles lock. When we called the lockmaster about a half an hour out he let us know that he was just starting to work a commercial barge and it would take several hours. He asked that we anchor at a spot a mile or so away. Which we were glad to do. The five boats each picked a spot to drop the hook, and then we just waited. Deb and I both got some music practice and and then I crashed for a while to try and catch up on a little sleep.

Fortunately, the Heritage Harbor Marina turned out to be a delightful place that has close ties to the Alton Marina that will be First Light's home. We were also able to attend a briefing on the route down the river. Something very helpful since we haven't been this way before. Bryce is a life-long river captain, and is now the TowBoat Captain who knows the river. It was very helpful but also reinforced something that I have started to realize. Hard-core river travel isn't really “pleasure boating”.  It is more like mountain climbing. You don't do it for fun. Also, and to to my surprise, there are long stretches of the river that are much more remote than I would have guessed seeing that we are in the middle of the populated part of the country. Services are few and far between and some careful planning is required. Something I don't recall as being much of an issue when we did the ICW in Kintala. But we are in the final stretch and home is feeling really close.

MV Finito, our traveling companion.

We tie up to these floating bollards that slide down inside this channel as the water drains out.

A cool floating tiny home community

The morning departure from the free wall in Joliet

Off the Lake

We crossed the time zone late yesterday without realizing it. So we were up and moving before first light this morning. Which worked out okay since we were already under way when the sun first broached the horizon. Shortly after that, we were officially off the lake and into the river system. For the most part it was easy and fun even though much of the route was one industrial sight after another and a constant stream of bridges. Forty-eight bridges to be exact. We also passed port to port to a couple of barges where there wasn't a lot of room. We were within a First Light boat length as we passed. The nice thing about river barges is that they don't go fast and, except for the turbulence coming off the propellers, don't make much wake. So a close pass isn't much of an issue.

We had two locks to go through. Something we haven't done for many weeks. The first was all of a two foot drop but it seems I did something that irritated the lockmaster. As we pulled out he gave me a nasty look and a brush off hand signal. I had no idea what I did wrong. We had called in on the radio to start. Then I called a back to ask about specifics but got no answer. No one came out to the wall to tell us what was going on. The lights turned green. I drove in (we were the only ones in the lock) we tied off, we went down, the gate started to open, and I drove out. For some reason he blew a long horn blast after we were clear and underway. Ah well. Never going to see him again. Don't really care what his problem was. I hope he didn't stew about it for long but, if he did, that would be his problem, not mine. 

The second lock was a different story. They were working a 3 x 4 raft of barges though the 40 foot lift. So First Light and three other pleasure boats ended up holding station for nearly 2 hours before we could lock through. It was a bit of pain but that is the way it should be. Those folks are working for a living and moving the stuff that keeps the country working as well. It is only proper that the commercial boats take priority. After the barge moved off, the lockmaster called the waiting boats with the order that he wanted us in the lock. We rafted up 2 by 2 to ride the “floaters” (floating bollards which are spread pretty far apart—as you would expect in a lock built mainly to handle massive barges). The lockmaster came out to the boats and explained the procedure. A procedure which Included the last step of him sounding a horn when we could power up and move out of the lock. Apparently that gives the people waiting to go the other way notice that boats are heading out.

If the first guy had bothered to share that with me, I likely would not have irritated him so.

Half of the barge tied off to the wall waiting for the other half.

There were four of us waiting for the lock.

The tug finally arrived with the second half of the barge.

Two hours later and Voila!

Rafted in the lock.

Shortly after the second lock, we passed through four lift bridges one right after the other. Clearing the last, our little armada all drifted a bit to starboard and took up residence on the town free wall. Yes, we are risking another wall, and one that lay athwart a busy commercial waterway to boot. It has good reviews and free power, so we decided to take the risk.

A little while ago, another huge barge & tow went by about 50 feet off our port side. We felt nary a ripple. The wind is rattling the trees but with just over 300' of fetch it has no chance to get a grip on the water and stir things up. And the lake? It is more than 30 nm away along a twisty river and two locks. I don't think even Lake Michigan can come up with a surge that can reach us here.

Have I mentioned about how glad I am that we are done with Lake Michigan? Well, most of the folks in our little armada are of the same opinion. All of us had a story of sitting for days waiting for the winds to abate and most had tales of at least one really ugly day of travel. One couple is on their second loop. On the first, they were on Lake Michigan during the same time of the year as now. They had little problem the first time around and were as surprised as the rest of us at how challenging that part of the trip had been.

Tomorrow, most of us plan to head off together for the next series of locks. The “pleasure boats” traveling in packs from lock to lock is what the lockmasters like to see. I am glad to cooperate so long as they tell me what they want.

Yes, there are four bridges right in front of us...

We kept seeing these odd fountains

This bridge started to open, then stopped, then opened some more, then stopped.

We thought it was breaking and we were going to be stuck.

View from the Joliet free wall