Once it was light enough to see, each one of us untied from the rocky wall and proceeded in a line toward the Branden Lock and Dam. As traversing the locks seems to be old hat by now, the wait time idling outside the doors waiting for the green light is always a letdown. That day we had three locks to deal with before sunset and time was of the essence as we approached the formidable Marseilles Lock and Dam having waited an hour respectively outside the first two lock doors.
On approach to the lock, the head boat radioed the lockmaster to request passage. It was not a good omen when the lock master responded over 10 minutes later with a curt response basically telling us we had to wait. 45 minutes stretched into 2 hours which soon became 3. All the while we had the engines off only to bump them on when we drifted out of the channel for fear of running aground. Just as the three hour mark passed, the lock master radioed to alert us there was a tow and barge proceeding out of the lock in our direction which would take up the entire channel. Basically telling us we needed to clear a path, we all squeezed off to the side figuring we could hold our ground until the tow motored by and we were clear to move forward. How wrong we were!! Not a minute after we all started to maneuver toward the edge of the channel, we were told to proceed with urgency to tie up next to the stationary tow at the mouth of the lock. The interpretation we all understood from the hurried radio transmission was that the suction from the wash produced from the props of the tow exiting the lock would violently pull our boats into the side of the barge if we stayed where we were. Not fully understanding the severity of what could happen, Nautoncall and Knot Diggin proceeded to take off back up the channel to a safer area while the rest of us scrambled toward the idle tow to secure ourselves. Minutes seemed like seconds as the doors opened and the barge was bearing down on us. Duane spun the boat around as I held on to the side rails with both hands only letting go to throw lines to the awaiting tow workers who were racing around making sure all the boats were tied down. Why in the three hours we all battled to stay in the channel waiting for our turn in the lock did the lock master not ever broach the subject of doing this earlier is something none of us will ever grasp. In the end, the tow glided by without incident and we took a deep breath, gathered ourselves together and with bewilderment locked through. Well all of us except our two buddy boats …an integral part of Group 1.5…who now were stuck a mile upstream with no way to get around the tow and barge creeping their way.
The sun was getting low in the sky and we arrived at Heritage Harbor Marina just as the sun was setting. Alas, our friends would not arrive until 11 that evening in the pitch dark aided by the Harbormaster, Jeremy, who went out on his boat with a spotlight to guide them in. Jeremy was not only helpful beyond measures, he was also extremely knowledgeable about the area from extensive first hand experience. He held a 4pm talk everyday giving boaters the in’s and out’s of our trip South to the Mississippi which was invaluable to those of us who have never traveled these waters before.
The next day with all of us safe in the marina and able to relax, we made plans to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving which was ruined the day before. Jim and Wendy on My Everything had also arrived so what an amazing celebration Duane and I had with all our Canadian friends that evening. Lots of laughs, great food and drinks flowed as we chatted…and vented about daily mishaps…. for hours. Catherine and Chris were our gracious hosts that evening aboard their Catamaran, Two Loons. Our plan was to leave the next morning and proceed down the river …or so we had hoped that night.
The next morning I rushed through my routine of getting things organized for a long travel day. Duane did the same as he checked the oil level and the engines in preparation for the day ahead. Then came the dreaded words I had only heard once before…”We are not going anywhere.” I reluctantly told our friends we were having engine issues and to go on without us hoping that in a few hours Duane would have her running again and we would catch up. I waved as they drove off and sat very dejected on the steps of the galley willing the port engine to kick into gear. Hearing what sounded like marbles rattling around the transmission, we both were pessimistic in the diagnosis and knew this was not going to be as simple as changing a few spark plugs. One day turned into four and twenty plus hours of manual labor on the Captain’s part to get us back on track again. His fear was the transmission was shot, but after a consultation with the local mechanic it was determined the drive plate under the engine had possibly cracked and needed to be replaced. Of course the plate was in the most inconvenient location and the transmission had to be completely dismantled and the thousand pound hunk of metal, which was the port engine, had to be lifted and shifted back to remove and replace the plate. As savvy as he is with the electronics, Duane proved equally as resourceful as a mechanic. He meticulously removed each connection and part and, with some help from the First Mate (ME), we were able to wedge plywood under the engine and hoist it up and over to remove the broken plate. Our replacement part was being delivered the next day so we tried to cheer up and had dinner and drinks with Jim and Wendy who were departing in the morning. With the last of our travel buddies moving on and the part received, Duane got back to business and worked until after dark putting the puzzle back together. I made sure he was well fed and hydrated and gave words of encouragement and praise to keep him focused. Sometimes appreciated…sometimes not. Although our plans were derailed slightly, Heritage Harbor was a great place to be stuck so we could get ourselves back on track and we were grateful for all their hospitality.
After checking and rechecking the vitals, we were prepared to cast off in the morning. Settling into bed, we were both excited for what we will encounter on the next phase of our adventure. Alone for now, we will surely be meeting old and new acquaintances in the near future.
The next morning I woke up with more pep in my step than I had in days. Both engines started with a purr and as I untied the lines, we drifted back from the dock. Duane’s smile soon turned into fear as he realized he forgot to reconnect the shifter on the engine and we were floating aimlessly between the docks. I ran up to the flybridge to take the wheel and he quickly jumped in the engine room to avoid a disaster connecting the gear shifter just in time. One little thing overlooked in our excitement to leave could have proved extremely costly. We both called a do-over and turned into the channel and we were on our way.
We were no sooner under the first bridge when we had two barges in our path. We were back in the grove and squeezed right through with a wave and a Thank You. Starved Rock Lock and Dam was soon upon us and we brushed off the cobwebs and made sure the fenders and lines were ready. The lock through went off without a hitch and as the gates opened I secretly prayed that port started without an issue. It was a pleasant sound as she kicked into gear and we crept up to the tow itching to get into the lock after we departed with its full load. It was a little too close for my comfort, but the Captain had things under control. The rest of the afternoon was calm as the scenery spilled out around us in many shades of Fall and we sat quietly letting it all sink in. Well…Quiet except for the occasional debate on boat etiquette. Today’s topic…How the definition of “in” the garbage is so drastically different than “on” the garbage. Just as “under the bed” is not even remotely the same as “in the laundry bag. “
That night we settled into a nice anchorage behind Lower Henry Island. It was a pleasant sight to see two other Loopers at anchor, Salty Dog and Slow Bells, reassuring us we were not all alone. We fell fast asleep to the sound of carp splashing in the water and the hum of barges passing by.
