Progress report
Nov 3 to Nov 9
Monday...After doing only 13 miles yesterday, we were left with 37 more miles to reach the
mouth of the harbor at Greenville, Mississippi. At 5:00 a.m. a large pack of coyotes were making their social communications
on the other side of the river on the Arkansas shore. The turtle tracks are getting up to three feet wide on the shores
around here. We shoved off from the sand and gravel bar on the side of the dike at 6:35 and had to hold up 10 minutes
for an upbound tow to pass, before we could round the dike. Slow curent and mild headwinds kept our speed to an average
of four mph for several hours. At 1:00 the current picked up and we were making abut six mph. One particular spooky bend
had the red buoys less than 100 yards from the sandbars on the inside of the bend. An upstream bound tow was holding close
to the red buoys. The water was getting turbulent in that area and tended to throw us outside into the path of the tow.
We pedalled hard to get out of the turbulence and up closer to the sandbars. While only 100 feet outside the channel we
ran aground on a sandbar. This worked and we waited, stuck on the sandbar, for the tow with 42 barges to pass by.
I have the radio on most of the time now, and can tell by the clearness of the reception that
a tow is in our neighborhood. If we hear nothing for 10 minutes, it's pretty likely there are no tows in the area. It's
getting to the point where I can say what everyone else has been saying. "Don't sail the lower Mississippi.""
This is a life threatening experience. I am not too worried abut the warnings about snakes, bears and alligators. I am
glad the water level is low and that the current is slower than usual.
At 3:00 we were at the Greenville harbor entrance. As we made the 180 degree turn into the harbor
we hoped the winds would finally be in our favor and assist us on our 4 1/2 mile trip up the harbor. We put the sail up for
the first time in days, but the wind had died to less than four mph, and it didn't help us at all. We pedalled at 3 mph
for an hour and a half till we passed the gaming boats and landed at the Greenville Yacht Club. We have pedalled up and down
so many harbors by now that we will have well over 2003 miles pedalled before we reach New Orleans.
We were greeted by Arlene at 4:30, and she began drying the wet tent while we unloaded the boat.
Soon, three women from the Greenville Yacht Club dropped by with a big bundle of cold cuts, cheese, rolls, fruit tray, and
sun tea for us. It's a good thing they left before we ripped into the feast. We probably looked like hungry coyotes gorging
themselves on a big kill. The past week has been rough on us, and I decided we should lay over a day to recuperate and
possibly get some press coverage.
Greenville Yacht Club, Mississippi... Moored amid the gaming boats
Tuesday morning I awoke clear-headed, but after standing up, my body said lay down. This day off
was certainly needed. We met Ted at the marina and sat around the marina's lounge studying the charts and talking to the
friendly folks. Ted made phone calls to the press. Arlene and I left before noon to do some shopping and make updates on the
computer. Ted tore into the lunch buffet at the marina. At 2:00 I made a long distance call to load updates to the internet.
While reviewing them I noticed a small error in last weeks report. I corrected the error and re-transmitted the log for last
week. Halfway through the transmission my connection began failing, and I ended up having replaced last weeks log with only
half the data. I attempted to connect again and again, but now the modem on our brand new computer was acting up and wouldn't
dial properly. I was disgusted. I would have been better off living with the small errror. I began to plan a recovery. I
would need disks to back up my data, in case I needed to restore the operating system. Arlene and I went shopping and
returned to the marina with some food for Ted.
We did some work on the boat, and then sat at the marina bar drinking beer and picking the
brains of the rivermen that hung around the marina. We were told that we had already done most of the hazardous bends in the
river. The current would be diminishing as we went downstream. We were told that the tow captains all knew we were on the
river, and they were certainly anxious for us to get off. If this was a pleasure trip I would get off now, and never sail
the lower Mississippi again. Several mariners said we needed to stay in contact with the tow captains. Although it will be
embarrassing, I will have to let the tow captains know that I am one of the idiots pedalling down the river, and ask for
their instructions. I expect to hear, "Get the h___ off the river!" We plan on assuring safe passage even if it
means slowing our progress by stopping upstream of a bend and allowing tow traffic to clear.
I decided we should stay off the river another day to recuperate, fix the computer, and get more
information from the local river folks. Besides, it felt good to be around friendly people in a beautiful, well equiped,
marina. We returned to the motel after 8:00 p.m., and I began backing up the computer data. Before I
continued with an attempted repair, I tried the modem again, and my long distance call got through. I quickly reloaded last
week's logs and was relieved to have recovered that web page. Visitors between 3:00 and 9:00 missed half of last week's log.
Our long distance toll charges for doing the updates today were $21.00.
Wednesday my aches were subsiding, and I was glad we were staying over another day. In the
morning Ted and I continued making repairs to the boat in a thick fog that blanketed the harbor. We would have had a hard
time even finding the river this morning. The ABC local affiliate, WABG here in Greenville, interviewed Ted and me at 7:30
this morning. After that we left the marina to get breakfast, and go to the motel so Ted could get a shower,
and I could enter the last couple of days into the log.
Thursday...Arlene and I were up at 4:40 and were soon off to the yacht club. The first light
of day was appearing, and no one was about, expect Ted. We packed up, launched at 6:40, and were sorry we couldn't wait
around to bid a final goodbye to the helpful folks at the GYC. The stormy weather was looming. A three mph breeze from the
north was not
strong enough to speed up our trip out of the harbor. It took an hour and fifteen minutes to get back to the Mississippi
River. Once on the river we had to immediately beach the boat since a tow with 42 barges was "holding" just
downstream of
the harbor exit. After 10 minutes the tow that was holding up for another tow to pass, set off down the river. We followed soon
after that. The north winds were favorable, and we sailed under overcast skies all day. A fisherman on a skiff pulled
up to us and said he had seen us on TV last night. Ted pointed out that the only boats, other than tows, that we see on
the river around here are fishing boats. During the day I contacted tows on several ocassions to inform them of our
intentions or to ask what they wanted us to do. It was getting close to 3:00, and we had to choose to land behind a dike
and not take a chance on making the next possible landing 6 miles downstream. We got a good mooring on a sandy beach where
you gradually sink if you stand too long in one place. Without having seen the sun all day, we were now in a cold, and windy
Louisiana. We entered Louisiana about 10 miles upstream of here. We did 42 miles today in 8 1/2 hours.
Friday...We started packing before 5:00 as the cold winds whipped about our camp. Fortunately
they were from the northeast. The skies were still overcast and dismal. We were dressed in extra clothes as we launched
at 6:40. The winds were variable 5 to 15 mph and to our favor for all but three miles, when we sailed to the east. The
rest of our 48 mile cruise needed only modest pedalling. This day was like so many others recently there wasn't
anything to report. We landed at 3:00 in a small bay. Before we coud set up the tent we had to repair one of the poles.
After 2 1/2 months of continous action it is beginning to wear out like just about everything else we use. We hurriedly
pitched the tent and stowed the gear so we could get in out of the cold. The weather channel on the marine radio said
it would be like this for some time. With only 16 more miles to Vicksburg, Mississippi, it looks like Ted will be able
to get to Sturdy afternoon mass.
Saturday...Woke late at 5:17 and jumped up to wake Ted and start packing. We had a late launch at 7:00 but
had only about 16 miles to go. Some headwinds delayed our progress, and we made 15 miles to the Vicksburg harbor
entrance by 10:00. We turned directly into the wind as we entered the harbor, and encountered the unexpected 1 mph
current of the Yazoo River. It took an hour of vigorous pedalling to reach the boat ramp and docks 1 1/4 mile up the
harbor. Arlene was waiting as we inched our way to the docks extending from near the boat ramp. The Sweet Olive excursion
boat was docked, but we found a spot on the upstream side of the docks that neatly fit our craft. we met Jimmy who was
running the
excursion boat, and then later a fellow named Neely, who was cruising the U.S. in a homemade boat. He had his dog Duke
with him and was on his way south for the winter. He enjoyed travelling the lower Mississippi, which was surprising
to me. We went off to find the home of Vernon and Chan who had generously offered to let us stay at their home. Vernon
worked for
the state of NM and is a friend of Arlene. Chan is a deacon for the Espiscopal church and will become an ordained
minister in Jan. We got Ted to mass at 5:30, and Arlene and I returned to Vernon and Chan's home for enchilades (a
Northern New Mexican delight). I plan on doing long overdue email and web updates tonight and tomorrow morning. Our
departure will be delayed a bit.
Vicksburg, MS...at the docks waiting for Ted to return from mass
This Sunday morning at 4:35 it was hard to get up and meet the challenges, but the aroma of
coffee made by Chan energized my mind to go out and take care of business. Later, after a breakfast of huevos rancheros,
made by Vernon, I was ready for another day.
As I took a break outside at 8:00 I heard beautiful music wafting from a church down the block. There are numerous
churches in this area, and I was surprised to find that each and every denomination was duplicated and labeled as black or
white. The music came from a white church labeled black. This is Mississippi.
Sometimes I am too harsh about the river. Our camp, this Sunday evening, is a small sandy bay,
with hard packed sand sloping away from shore at perfect angles to the beach and under water. This is a comfortable mooring
away from the sailing line of the towboat traffic. The full moon has risen through the treeline on the opposite shore
(Mississippi side). Its light fills the back window of our tent. It's like a beacon above all the towboat traffic with their
headlights dancing about the river. This seems to be a busy night, but their wakes barely rock us. The drone of their engines
crescendos to a roar as they pass our camp, and then the drone begins to fade. But, another tow starts the cycle again before
the sound of the last is gone.
Today was nice. We launched at 10:20 and did 27 miles to camp at 3:15. Winds were 5 to 10 mph
and in our faces for only a few miles. I overheard a tow captain radio a following tow that he should see the nuts on the
nutty contraption that the lead tow had just passed. (not the exact words) They discussed us and tried to remember where
they had seen us. I keyed my radio to let the trailing tow know that I would be staying out of the channel. I asked him to
switch the radio frequency, so we could talk about things other than navigation.
I told him of our cause and our journey, and that I was sorry we were on the river making their
lives miserable. He said, "You're not in the way." We had a friendly chat, and in the end, the other tow captain
joined in and wished us luck. I mentioned to the trailing tow captain that we would like to cross the channel behind him
after he passed. (so we could make a landing) He offered to slow his engines to suppress the powerful swells. I quickly
radioed back, "Don't do that! We're not in a rush to cross over the channel." The captains were very nice, and I
found out that the "Blacks" meant the green buoys, which at one time were black.
Next progress report
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