We anchored-out about 20 miles north of Mobile Monday night. Monday was scheduled to be a fairly short cruising day (as far as distance goes.) And, we had no more locks to deal with. Nevertheless, we were anxious to get into the big water, so we got a decently-early jump on the day.
A few miles underway, we came across our first UNEXPECTED delay… It was a swing bridge for a set of train tracks. (For those of you who aren’t familiar with these swing bridges, they are a bit different than your typical draw or lift bridge. Instead of lifting up, these have a center-pivoted section of bridge that the whole unit spins (swings) upon. They are apparently pretty efficient, because the center-pivot system means that both ends of the bridge are equally-weighted. Thus, they just need enough power to turn it – as opposed to needing enough power to LIFT a section of bridge – or install counter-balancing weights, etc.
Anyway, our experience has been one of two things with bridges. They are either time-opened (and usually include hours of openings or closings – depending on their default position.) Or, you hail them via your radio (on Channel 16 or whatever is posted) and they will open the bridge on-demand.
Well, at this lil’ ol country bridge, there were NO SIGNS of ANY type posted. I made several attempts to hail the operator (Channels 16, 14, 13, 12, etc.) -- no such luck. We then pulled RIGHT UP TO THE opening of the bridge – as if to signal LET US THROUGH!!!! (To anyone who may have been watching from the booth.)
Finally, I just let go a BLAST from the air horn! (That woke him up!) ;-) Suddenly, there was a shadow of movement in the booth, and we could hear the locking pins inside the bridge disengaging, and then the squeaking sound of metal-on-mental as the bridge began to swing itself open.
As we cleared the bridge, I gave back two (friendlier) “thank you beeps” of the horn.
Since we had gotten an early start on the day, this guy was probably still working “third shift.” He probably fell asleep during the final hours of his shift – until WE WOKE HIM UP!!!!
The day prior, we seagulls began to follow us. Today, we began to spot pelicans around us. Yes, we are getting closer to big water now!
A few bends in the river later, and we begin to see the taller buildings of Mobile – a CITY! As we approach, Kelly says that she’s literally getting butterflies in her stomach – civilization ahead!!!
We had made tentative plans between us that morning to stop somewhere in Mobile to get ice and such. But, the waterfront appeared to be very commercial/industrial in nature. The Tenn-Tom Waterway was completed in 1985, and since then, Mobile has really sprung to life. It has both ocean access, as well as inland freshwater access. Thus, large ships from sea come to not only unload land-based stuff (onto trains and trucks,) but also to unload their cargo into waiting barges to be floated upstream in mass quantity. Ditto for the reverse as well: Barges can float down the Tenn-Tom, and then have their cargo loaded directly into waiting super-tankers and the like.
Mobile also has a pretty large ship refurbishing business (including Navy vessels, tugs, etc.) So, there was a LOT of noise and commotion – jack hammers, sandblasters, etc.Photo: This is the new USS Independence (LCS-2) that is being built for the US Navy in Mobile, AL. It's a trimaran-design hull, that reportedly can travel at speeds up to 46 mph (some say with bursts up to 60 mph!!!) It's supposed to be delivered to the Navy on/about September of this year. Our the back of this sucker are four HUGE jet-drive motors (like a jet ski.) This thing is powered by two gas-turbine motors, and two diesel motors. I have heard of similar propulsion systems, that function on the diesel motors at low speeds, and then convert over to the turbine engines for high speed operation. (Note: In response to problems with the propulsion plant, General Dynamics has resequneced the builder's sea trials to test other systems until this is fixed.) You can read more about this all-aluminum (no smoking aboard) ship at Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Independence_(LCS-2)
What we didn’t see were any sailboat masts (signifying a pleasure boat harbor/marina.) We didn’t see any transient slips, piers, seawalls, or other “welcome to Mobile” invitations to come ashore. So, we decided to just motor-on, and get down to the Gulf Shores area as quickly as possible (now only 34 miles ahead of us.)
Mobile Bay is as expansive as Tampa Bay – it’s HUGE! Soon after entering the Bay, a pod of dolphins appeared, and headed for our bow to play and ride our bow-wave.
All of the other boats that we have owned, we planning “go-fast” boats – so the dolphins surfed/jumped in our wake. This boat, however, doesn’t have much of a wake (because it has a semi-displacement hull design.) Instead of getting on top of the water, this hull is designed to swim THROUGH the water – never getting up onto plane. So, this means that we “push” quite a bit of water up front (like a waterborne plow.) So, the dolphins surf the FRONT of this style of boat – and surf they did.
The dolphins would ride our bow for a minute or two, then disappear, and later we would see them several hundred yards behind us. One pod after another, they would come, play, and then leave – as we crossed the bay.
The weather forecast had predicted calm winds and seas, and no tropical storm activity expected for the next 48 hours. There was (as always) a risk of afternoon pop-up coastal thunderstorms – but, that’s pretty typical of coastal towns in the humid southeast.
It was noon by the time we entered the Bay. As forecasted, the seas were pretty calm, and winds were light (2-7 mph) both at our nose – which is the easiest way to take the wind/waves in our boat. (When the winds are directly astern, the breeze tends to blow the smell of our exhaust past us, and it can make you feel kinda ill after awhile of that…) Following seas seem to push this ol’ bathtub around somewhat helplessly, too (as it did in the Mississippi River.) The rudders work best when water flows front-to-back. When the flowing seas PUSH against us, we seem to meander somewhat aimlessly…
Tips from fellow boaters told us to take the Mobile shipping channel out to “red marker number 50.” Then, head due-west for about a ½-mile or mile between the dredge “spoils,” and then set a course/heading to pick-up a marker buoy about a mile out from the Gulf Shores entry channel. I had pre-plotted the course into our GPS and mapping system days ahead of time, so we simply steered our course accordingly.
This is a fairly nice and easy way to induct inland boaters for big water. We depart from an area surrounded by land and buildings (comfort to the landlubber’s sole.) Then, ease our way down an OVER-MARKED shipping channel (you can almost walk, swim, or cast your fishing line from one marker buoy to the next.) But, as you head out towards deeper water, the shore begins to widen on each side – and there is NO SHORELINE directly in front of you. (But, you still feel the comfort/safety of a distant shoreline to your right/left, and behind you as well.) Oh, while the shipping channel is dredged to 40-something feet deep in most spots, it’s only a couple of hundred feet wide. Outside the shipping channel, the waters are less than 10 feet deep (often only 1-3 feet deep.) So, if something WERE to go bump, we could always just turn right or left and “beach” ourselves until help arrives.
By the way, Kelly has been driving ALL DAY today! She is also the one who is driving us to sea.
When we finally reach Red Marker number 50, she makes the planned left turn, and follows our chart/plot/course through the submerged spoil islands. (They create underwater islands that are only 1-3 feet deep. But, there is a small channel between them now and again – dot marked by any buoys, but clearly documented on the charts, and also well-known to the locals.)
After clearing the spoils, we then make a slight right turn, and now steer 100% according to the map/GPS. We can’t see anything on our horizon anymore. And, there are no channel markers outside the main shipping channel. We are now boating through the “open” Bay on our own.
The first 30-60 minutes of it, are ideal. Sunny skies, calm seas – life is GOOD! Kelly is still driving, and I sit in one of our deck chairs with a cold one, kick my feet up onto the railing, and sit back in the sunshine to watch the pelicans perform for me – aerobatic dives into the water to catch their meals – it seems like HUNDREDS of pelicans are performing – just for me!
I look back in our wake, so see Mobile fading behind us – getting smaller and smaller on the landscape behind us… But, what’s getting bigger and bigger, is a dark grey (almost black) storm cloud that’s enveloping the cityscape.) I say something about it in passing to Kelly, like, “Wow, it looks like a big storm just swallowed Mobile.” I scan our horizon to see if there are any clouds ahead of us, or to our sides – nothing but blue skies – GOOD!
Only a few minutes later, however, I notice that the sunshine I was enjoying minutes ago in my easy chair, has now clouded-over a bit (white clouds at this point – not the mean grey stuff – YET.)
From the looks of it, this storm is building, spreading outwards, and beginning to chase us out to sea. Winds are beginning to shift a bit as well, and the seas are beginning to build. It’s not that the seas are becoming “big” – it’s that they are now shifting to our right/starboard – and beginning to hit us a bit more broadsided – which rocks our boat a bit more dramatically left-to-right – in a rolling motion. (Those of you who get seasick easily, this is your time to STOP reading…)
“Let’s get ready fro the rain,” Kelly smartly suggests. Whether it ever really catches up with us or not – it’s always BEST to be prepared ahead of time. Because by the time it DOES arrive, your hands are FULL with other issues. Kelly grabs all of the portable electronics and snacks and such from the fly bridge, and heads below to stow them safely inside/below in the cabin. I meanwhile take the helm for a bit, and prepare our permanent electronics for a bath (putting covers and bungee cords around them, to keep them from getting blown off during a strong blow.)
Kelly returns to the flybridge, and says she’s feeling a little green. I offer her the helm/wheel (steering the boat actually helps prevent seasickness.) I have experienced the EXACT same thing when flying in a small plane. When you are a passenger, you are kinda just “along for the ride” – and it can be a bit like being in a rollercoaster. But, when YOU are holding the wheel/rudder/stick, it makes you feel a bit more in control of your destiny – your hands seem to tell your brain exactly what’s going on (proactively) instead of having a reactive feeling.
I begin to secure and clean-up a few things on the deck, when I notice that our dingy cover is getting damp around the edges… Weird… We don’t have any rain yet… Why is the dingy cover wet? I dismiss it as some sort of anomaly – maybe some morning dew that was on the deck has washed down onto the dingy’s cover in these now building and tossing waves?
I go below, and boot-up Kelly’s laptop, and tune into www.weather.com. I search for Gulf Shores, AL, and then click on the “weather in motion” link to get a real-time radar picture of our situation. Sure enough, there is a BIG storm enveloping Mobile, and trying to catch us, too!
I go back topside to join Kelly, and tune-in to the weather radio station on our marine VHF handheld. It’s giving us the most recent weather information (computer-generated, and updated once an hour.) Blah, blah, blah about calm seas, and 2-7 knot winds… blah, blah, blah…. (That computer that generates that weather forecast is obviously located inside of a dark/cold datacenter, and doesn’t have a window to see what WE are seeing!)
Then, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, long BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. (you know, that familiar sound that we typically hear on TV at home every now and then – when they “test” the “emergency broadcast system.”) Yup, THAT’S the sound that now blares from our VHF!
“The national weather service has issued a severe thunderstorm warning for the Mobile Bay area. This thunderstorm will generate heavy rain, and wind gusts up to 50 miles per hour, and increased wave heights. Lightening can be intense, and boaters are encouraged to go below if they are caught in this storm.”
Great…
But, our lil tug still has a jump on the storm. They say that the storm is moving at 20 miles per hour from west to east. But, we are moving at 7.5 mph to the southeast (mostly south.) I go ahead and push the throttles up a bit – to get us up to about 9 mph.
The seas ARE building quite a bit, but we are still under white clouds – with blue skies ahead of us.
I think we are safe from the rain and lightening, but these seas are REALLY giving us a tossing. I ask Kelly how she’s feeling – and she says that she could vomit at any time now. I offer to bring her the bucket, and she declines. (I take that as a GOOD sign!)
I turn to check out the clouds to our stern, and notice that the ENTIRE dingy cover is now wet! What’s up with THAT?!!!!!
Then, I realize – it’s getting wet from BELOW! The dingy must be FULL of water! The rocking of the boat, has caused the water inside of it, to splash-up to the underside of the cover – which I can then see from above.
Go figure, as we are navigating through our worst seas & weather, our little “life raft” of sorts – is pre-sunk aboard. (The boating folks call this a “freshwater drowning” -- when a boat sinks due to rainwater at the docks and such.) There is so much water in the dingy, that I can’t lift/tilt it to pour it out. And, there’s no drain plug in this little bathtub of a dingy. So, I either have to bail the water out, or siphon it out.
I first try to bail it out. But, since it’s a multi-purpose sailing dingy and row-boat, etc. – there are all kinds of “features” that are in my way (rudder, tiller, oars, oral locks, sail bag, ropes/lines, etc.) Each scoop of the bucket is only removing about a half-gallon of water, and it’s pretty difficult with the rocking/rolling of the boat/seas.
So, I ditch the bucket, and fetch the garden hose instead. I put one end of it into the boat. Instead of sucking at the other end (which would be a REAL pain with this long of a hose,) I attach the opposite end to our water spigot. I briefly turn the spigot on to fill the hose. I then turn it off, and disconnect it – and let gravity do its thing, and auto-start the siphoning process (no sucking of the hose required.)
It works like a charm, and I go up to the dingy to double-check things. By the time I get there, the wave action had caused the end of the hose to pop out/above the water = siphoning has stopped!
I shove it back down into the water, and try the whole process one more time. Again, the process starts perfectly, and again, by the time I get up to the dingy, the hose has been knocked up/out of the waterline – and stopped functioning.
At this point, I’m wishing that I had some sort of brick to place atop the end of the hose, to hold it to the bottom of the dingy. I don’t have a brick…
I scan the decks, and the only thing that I see that LOOKS like a brick, is our stern anchor! But, that would be like using a sledge hammer when you only need a little tap.
Instead, I semi-tie & loop the hose around some of the gear inside of the boat, to make it less susceptible to the rocking of the waves, and prevent it from whipping itself out of position. I watch it for about two minutes, to ensure that it’s NOT going to work itself free. Satisfied with this approach, I go below to the spigot, and re-prime the line.
The third time is indeed a charm. Success!
Over the next hour, the waves began to dissipate a bit (as we now grew closer to the protection of the barrier islands of Gulf Shores.) And, our dingy self-siphoned itself almost completely dry (I couldn’t have planned it any better it I had the time to do so.)
As we entered the protection of the intracoastal waterway (ICW,) we began to clean-up the decks and such from our crossing-of-the-bay. We stowed hoses, and power cords from the night before, and got things looking ship-shape for our arrival into “fancy ports.”
We took showers, and changed into some decent/presentable clothes.
As we arrived in the marina, onlookers gawked and pointed at our big ol’ boat as we idled into the marina. She (the Venture Out) is designed as a coastal cruiser, and seems to be drawing quite a crowd. (This would have been an excellent time to hand a huge “FOR SALE” sign off her railings!) ;-)
But, these were all just tourist/gawkers/dreamers anyway – not REAL boaters. They were admiring us – the adventurers – the travelers, returning from sea.
The day was actually a pretty good hair-raiser. It started off slow and easy, but turned into quite a handful by mid-day. By the time we got to the dock, we were pretty-well spent of our energy and enthusiasm.
The harbormaster was nowhere to be found (these guys apparently have bankers hours.) We went ahead and helped ourselves to a slip of our choice. Just after we got all tied off, turned off the motors, hooked up the shore power lines, and shut down the motors – and ready to call this day DONE – I heard a “bloop” splashing noise, immediately followed by a familiar obscenity from Kelly.
“What was that?” I asked. (not REALLY wanting to hear the answer, because by the sound of the bloop/splash, I knew that it wasn’t something cheap/easy like a pen or a pair of my sunglasses or a leftover Coke can. Nope, that was the sound of something of weight and value.
“It was the radio,” she said.
Being the ever-optimist, I replied, “You mean the portable CD player?” (Which we had just purchased at Wal-Mart before our adventure for $40 bucks or so – so we could have some tunes aboard.)
“No! The handheld VHF!” she replied – with words that I did NOT want to hear. (You know, the ONLY radio that has REALLY been worth a damned this whole trip – the one that WORKS – the one that’s small and convenient to be shoved in my pocket as I run up/down on the boat – the one that is water-resistant (to rain) – but, NOT waterPROOF (to drowning.) Yup – the model that does NOT float!
As I looked up at her, I saw the disappointment/frustration, but ALSO another familiar look – the “you WILL be diving to get that radio” kinda look. (The SAME look that she gave me when the anchor went over unattached, and many other times in our past – when we dropped things into the drink.)
The sun was setting, the water isn’t clear here, and the radio fell between the dock and the boat. So, to dive for it, I was going to have to first move the boat to a different slip (which we did.) At first, we were going to tie-up to the dock closest to the bathrooms and such. But, they were locked (according to Kelly.) So, after maneuvering to tie-up, we called “no joy” on slip #2, and proceeded to a different slip (#3 attempt.) We tied-up the boat, and prepared to then attach our shore power. But, it turns out that THIS particular slip, ONLY had 50-amp service (and we need 30-amp service.) So, I walked the docks a bit, checking each power-post, to finally find one with 30-amp service. So, we moved the boat (AGAIN) to slip #4 for the day.
We tied-up, but I didn’t hook-up power (yet.) The sun was setting, and if I was going to find that radio, I needed to make haste and get wet ASAP. I grabbed the fins, mask and snorkel, and a flat cushion, and made my way to the scene of the bloop.
I reluctantly geared-up, and stepped off into the water. (Note: Fish are jumping ALL AROUND the surface here – usually a sign that a predator fish is in the hood. I have also already seen jellyfish in this cove, and marinas are also known for having “naughty guests” who still flush their heads (toilets) into the marina.) So, yes, I’m jumping into a cesspool filled with unseen predators and things that bite and sting. Are we having fun yet? Welcome to LuLus! (LuLu is apparently the sister to Jimmy Buffett.)
The depth gauge on our boat was reading 4 feet here. But, that’s from the bottom of our boat, which is already 4 feet deep. So, it’s REALLY about 8 feet deep here. The water is so dark, that a flashlight or such is useless. I just take a deep breath, and dive down (hands-first) until they touch bottom. Will it be sand? Rock? Mud? Silt? Having fun yet? I was hoping for sand. But, got silt atop mud instead. (expect the best, receive the worst.) ;-)
I then swim across the bottom like some sort of overgrown flounder. I need to the entire length of my arms to search through the muck – not just my hands. (I need to make as much “surface contact” as possible. This means, that I literally swim with my chest & belly sliding across the silt bottom, as I then wave/fan my arms out ahead of me – like underwater jumping jacks. The entire length of my arms in contact with the bottom.
First attempt = nothing. Second attempt = nothing. Third attempt = nothing. I know it’s down there – somewhere, and Kelly’s not going to be happy until I bring it up. I know that it’s done-for – not designed for this kinda dunk/bath. But, this isn’t about the radio at this point. This is about marriage/emotions. Find the radio = happy (but disappointed) wife. Don’t find the radio = he didn’t TRY hard enough – he COULD have found it if he TRIED harder!!!
Maybe – just MAYBE the radio DOES float??? Maybe it fell into the drink, but then floated up/under the dock (and is stuck there?) So, while I’m still in the water, I also put my hands under the dock, and FEEL every inch of it, too. All of the barnacles, slimy mossy stuff, bilge stuff, ew, ew, ew!!! Nope, no radio. So, I return to diving. This time, I will swim further beneath the docks. It’s COMPLETELY dark under the docks. And, when you swim under them, you have to make sure that you have an exit plan. You don’t want to attempt to surface from beneath them, and then bang your head on the bottom of them. If I has wearing SCUBA gear, this would be no issue. I could take my time, and search under the docks slowly, and then come up slowly/carefully. But, since I am skin-diving on my own breath, I have to make sure that I not only have enough spare-air in reserve to come UP, but also enough to FIRST swim out/away from the docks, THEN up.
Still = nothing.
I noticed as we arrived, that it was a bit difficult to get the boat to snug-up to the dock. I’m assuming that the tide was coming in, thus, there was a slight current pushing me away/off the dock. If that’s the case, then maybe the radio is actually a bit further away from the dock – then beneath it. So, I next do a pass a yard or so away from the dock. Bingo! Success! One well-wet radio recovered!
Note: The only other thing that I found was a small piece of log. I would have thought that there would have been more stuff down there – tools, wallets, sunglasses, beer bottles, etc. Go figure.
As assumed, our offering of a VHF radio to Nemo the sea gods had been accepted and received by him. Because when we got it back to the boat, and freshwater rinsed it, then dismantled it, and put it under the fan to dry it out overnight – it didn’t power-up upon reassembly. Our little handheld VHF was dead as a doornail, its soul is with Nemo now.
Our day was finally DONE! We didn’t have the energy, enthusiasm, or desire to even go to LuLus for dinner & drinks. Instead, we simply collapsed on the sofa, with clicker in-hand, and licked our wounds as we watched TV.
Wounds: I pretty much HATE boat cleats, engine vents, turnbuckles, and any/all other rigging that protrudes from the decks of boats. I have two unique gifts in life: 1 = I can get dirty – even when no dirt is around. Even if I try NOT to get dirty, I somehow manage to get dirty! It’s a gift. 2 = My toes have the ability to find and stub/cut themselves on ANYTHING that protrudes from the decks. (Kelly has developed this gift as well.) And, we have now extended this feature to our hands, too! So, we are both sporting Band-Aids on our hands and feet, and both have split-open big toenails due to boat-related stunts + deck gear.
But, we are SAFE! We are in saltwater! We have seen TONS of dolphins already! Kelly has made plans to meet-up with Laura and the girls, and spend a day doing laundry at their condo, and sitting at the beach. She’s making plans to make dinner for them, and maybe even catch a soaking in their bathtub as well.
I’m going to stay at the boat Tuesday, to catch-up on some maintenance chores, and work-related stuff. Maybe even hunt down that harbormaster and try to pay out slip rental fees? (Maybe not?) ;-) I haven’t done ANYTHING pirate-like this whole trip (except polish-off a huge bottle of Captain Morgan rum.)
Our river-cruising days are behind us, we are coastal-cruisers now. I wish I could say that our days in the “ditch” are behind us. Unfortunately, much of the ICW is also man-made “ditch” as well. But, it should be a bit prettier ditch, dotted with marinas, waterfront homes, more pleasure boats, manatees, dolphins, etc. We are only 10-20 miles from the Florida state line. Once we cross that line, it will be “rods in the water” for the rest of our trip. (Alabama is still kinda weird about fishing licenses for nonresidents and such – so we won’t be fishing while we are here.)
Note: We may be holed-up in this marina for a few days as we visit with Mark & Laura, and do our chores, make a Wal-Mart reprovisioning run, and such. (Nothing worth blogging about.) Once we get moving again (probably two or three days,) we will resume blogging.
Venture Out (“over”) for now…
Nick & Kell.
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