Two lives

Settling into land life again is, as expected, proving to be both a little harder and a little easier than expected. We didn't go wandering on Kintala until years after our girls had all grown and headed off on their own life's journey. Leaving behind nothing but some possessions wasn't an issue at all. In fact it gave us an excuse for lightening the burden of “stuff” that we Americans are so good and getting buried under. Since we were not leaving family in the sense of leaving people we had seen every day for years, it was a grand adventure.

More than a decade passed between the time we headed out on Kintala as full time cruisers and heading out on First Light as Looper Lites to get the boat back to Saint Louis. During that time on land we had the extreme good fortune of up living as part of the extended family of Daughter and Son-in-Law Middle parent to six of our grandkids. Leaving them, even knowing it was for a limited time, wasn't easy. That feeling faded a little as we worked our way north and west, though it never went away. I think it is fair to say that, once we made the turn at the north end of Lake Michigan, the need to get home started to grow again. By the time we hit the river system it was likely the reason we put in some tough long days, just to make miles.

Last night was only our second night back. We both still wake up in the dark trying to figure out where we are. On the one hand my groggy mind thinks we must slipped the hook and run aground since the berth isn't moving and the background noise is wrong. Last night it took me a while to figure out that the trip was indeed over and I was actually in our bed in St. Louis. 

On the other hand I still have to put a hand on the shower wall because the floor under my feet feels like it is shifting and the walls appear to be tilting some. We are still digging stuff out of storage and are trying to remember where they belong in this giant two room apartment. I had to add another hanger to make room for the Ukulele I bought somewhere along the trip. Which was good because the one Uke wall to the right of my chair had always been a little out of balance. Now it is looking pretty good.

The two youngest girls and I have already started playing games while the two grandsons joined in watching last week's MOTO GP race. It will be a lot of fun watching the rest of the season with them. Yesterday Granddaughter Eldest rode with us back to the boat and helped us bring back some more stuff. It was the first time she had seen the boat. I'm sure there will be plans to start doing some “pleasure boating” soon though, sometime in the next few days, I will get started on getting First Light in some kind of shape. A long day of cleaning and scrubbing will go a ways into making her look like a boat that is cared for once again.

Home sweet home with all the instruments back in their proper place.

But the strangest and most unexpected aspect of being back is that there is nothing that needs done. There is no schedule to keep, no weather that needs checking, no plans that have to be made to get through the next few days. Water and electricity are always available at the twist of a knob or flip of a switch. I don't care how hard the wind blows or how much it rains. I have to admit to liking living on a boat, traveling, seeing new things, and facing the challenges of being safe and smart. But this is some pretty good living as well. I am in no hurry to give it up again. Without a doubt I am one of the luckiest people on the planet in that I get to experience both.  

At last...

Our last night at anchor, at least for a while, was quiet and incident free. I didn't get much sleep though, having tangled with some kind of critter while walking around in Beardstown in Keens—critters that chewed my feet up pretty good. Not as bad as the fire ant encounter a while back, but bad enough. Still, I got some sleep.

SV Galactica

We woke up this morning to nearly perfect weather except for a little fog. We debated waiting but it would take a lot worse weather than a little fog to delay starting the last leg of a 5 month journey to get home. We were on the move before the sun broached the horizon.

We have lived in the St. Louis area for a long time. When we cruised full time on Kintala, St. Louis was still where much of the family lived waiting for us to visit. I have flown over it, into it, and around it literally hundreds of times. We have driven cars and ridden motorcycles along all of its rivers. Still, until we joined the Mississippi river at Grafton and rode it under the Clark Super Bridge for the “U” turn into the Alton Marina and First Light's new home, I had no appreciation for just how big the Mississippi is. This is a serious piece of water. Making it our “home” water will take some time and, I expect, some serious respect. Getting caught out in a midwestern thunderstorm anywhere along this stretch of the river will likely have you crying for your Mama.

After filling the fuel tanks and emptying the holding tank, we settled into our assigned slip with little fanfare. It has all the amenities including a roof. A comforting addition when midwestern thunderstorms start dropping hail on everything under them. In fact, walking up to the office and back to get all signed in, I got the feeling that this was some pretty high class digs for a couple of boat bums.

So we are about to start a new kind of boat life. Rather than full time cruisers on a sailboat or Loopers on a trawler, we are just your average “pleasure boaters” now. Having grandkids and friends along for a day on the water or heading off to an Illinois River anchorage for a night or two will all be for pure fun. No need to get anywhere for any reason. When the boat isn't moving it will be another of my hobbies. First Light is travel weary, showing the miles and carrying a scar or two. She deserves some TLC. I happen to like working on the boat as long as there is no pressure to get it done or need to jury-rig something just to get out of a bind. We did the trip we planned to do. We handled the things we had to handle. We saw cool stuff, met good people, usually made the right decisions and did what we needed to when this or that decision went sour. It is time to turn the heat down a little. We are, after all, entering the winter season of our lives. There is nothing left to prove.

(Ed Note: OK I might have gone just a little crazy on the pictures today...)

Did you know that school buses ride the ferry in Grafton, IL?

The last barge to pass on this trip.

We used to ride our motorcycles to The Loading Dock. Weird seeing it from the water.

The casino in Alton, IL

Coming into Alton Marina

Packing up to go back to the apartment. I think we have a bad case of UAS (Ukulele acquisition syndrome)

Sounds like a plan!

It was another ground hog's day of travel, only with fewer barges to pass. There was a ferry crossing, something we haven't run across in a while. And it included the (apparently) required two hour hold at the lock added to the planned seven hour day. At least it was the last lock we will run across on this trip. There are none on the planned route for tomorrow.

The day started out at 5:30am with the Harvest Moon

We are also on the last planned anchorage for this trip. Somewhere along the Illinois river between its East bank and a chunk of land called Willow Island is where the hook hit the bottom. It is kind of a desolate looking place that is very, very quiet and very still. Generally those are two good qualities for an anchorage but it is also very hot and muggy. I suspect mosquitoes will be our main companions for the evening. It is kind of a narrow channel as well so, in other places this tight swinging would be a concern. But there is just enough river current running though the channel to keep the boat pointed in one direction. All in all not bad for the (planned) last night of the trip. Why the parentheses? If there is one thing we have learned since putting First Light in the water at Duck Creek Marina on November 3^rd 2022, it is that what is planned to happen and what does happen can be two, very different, events.

Six hundred and eighty five days ago I didn't have a pacemaker stitched into my chest. Deb didn't have a plate and screws holding her wrist together. We had not spent months traveling with Grandson Eldest. First Light didn't have near as many new parts as she does now. The boat had not been dropped in the Big Chute Railway, nor had we come near to being run down by a couple of barges. None of those events, as notable as they are now, were in any of our plans.

The planned events, Delaware Bay, New York, the Hudson River, Canadian Waters, Great Lake Waters, and rivers this far from an ocean, were rarely, if ever, what we expected them to be. Some were far more spectacular and fun than we suspected. Others were far more difficult and uncomfortable than we expected. That is usually the way it works when one goes a-wandering.

Tomorrow's (planned) last day of travel to our new home marina of Alton, IL is just shy of 40 miles and a bit over 5 hours. So, somewhere around noon to early afternoon, this little foray into being river sailors on “Motor Vessel First Light” should draw to a close. I am guessing it will take a few days to get relocated back to the apartment in St. Louis, with grandkids (6) once again nearby. Pretty much everything we own has to be packed up from its rightful boat place. Then loaded up, hauled over the bridge, unpacked, and put back in its rightful apartment place. I am guessing it will take more than a few days to get used to being land dwellers again. True, we have only been gone for 5 months or so rather than the near six years we were on Kintala. But I still expect to wake up at night a few times, concerned that the boat wasn't moving and wondering if we had run aground somehow. Or have the thunder wake me into scrambling to get the hatches and ports shut before the rain arrives. Good habits on a boat that make one feel silly on land.

Our Looper friend Doug and his trusty sidekick Sailor on Galactica, a McGregor 26

But, for tonight and in this place, I will simply enjoy being on a boat that is riding gently to its anchor. No shore lights, no traffic noise, just sky, trees, and water. The good news is, even after getting settled in to land living again, First Light will be near at hand and ready to go out for a day, a weekend, a few days...whatever we can work out and whenever we feel like doing it. We might take a couple of days and motor right on back up here for a visit, hopefully with a few grandkids aboard. Sounds like a good plan to me.

The LaGrange Lock and Dam

After 2 hours we finally get our turn!

The State of IL must have a ton of this ugly green bridge paint laying around. There were so

many bridges painted with it and it's really hideous in bright sunshine.