After some last minute provisioning we handed our car over to Karl Swigert for delivery to Florida. He has a boat on the same pier as we at Blue Dolphin. He was planning to rent a car and drive to Florida so it worked out well for both of us.

Stingaree

We cast off at noon and did a 30 mile trip to Stingaree Restaraunt and Marina on the ICW. We docked along the bulkhead just ahead of a DeFever 44.  The boat M/V Meander is owned by Bill and Judy Fletcher. They left from Lakewood Yacht Club the same day and had to have passed us on the way out of the marina.

We had dinner with them that night and it turned into Old Home Week when Bill and I discovered that we were both involved in Sage Air Defense testing in the late 50's.  He was a fighter pilot and flew the F-102 interceptor. I was doing development and testing of the tracking program for Airborne Long Range Inputs.  The ALRI aircraft was a Lockheed Constellation. It could track low altitude aircraft out to 200 miles. SAC bombers would fly simulated  raids on Boston at low altitude to sneak in under the land based radar's coverage. He flew one of the fighters we used to intercept the bombers out over the Atlantic. It was a dangerous mission flying at high speed a few hundred feet off the water.

Marion and Judy are both retired teachers. They chatted about cruising experiences. After trading contact information we went off to bed. (still recovering from surgery Marion needed sleep)
 
 

Goats along the Intercoastal Waterway made for an interesting change of scenery on our way to Louisiana.

Adams Bayou

Marion reports:

Up early, and excited about our first long day, we pulled out at 7:00. On the way to Port Arthur Yacht Club we decided to go on further to Adams Bayou. We arrived around 3:00 in the afternoon. Pulled into a quaint marina called Sabine Yacht Club. Run by basically no one. It had a very elegant restaurant, now closed. Our tour guide was an engineer who had his office on the second floor of the building. The restaraunt and club room were large and beautiful. The interior was nautical. In fact the owner cut up a 36 foot sport fisherman and used the parts of the hull and interior to decorate. Parts of it were everywhere. The large stern and the bow were located in different parts of the room and served as bars. The head was also located near the bar and was still intact. The restaraunt is available for lease.

We met some folks on a S/V Korina from Clear Lake. They were leaving on an extended cruise to Florida and the Bahamas. Bill, girlfriend and brother in law, (along for the ride on his two week vacation from ugh... working)  were travelling together. Bill's girlfriend was off doing laundry and learning about the cruising life. I wish we had more time to discuss how to stow feminine gear.. clothes, and personal items aboard, but our visit was short due to mosquitos that drove us below for shelter. Guy cruisers don't seem to have that problem -- a shower - a toothbrush - same pants as day before - clean T-shirt ..ready for the day.

Bayou Lacassine Anchorage

It's a two day cruise from the Texas border to the next electric hookup at Intercoastal city. We picked an anchorage at Bayou Lacassine, about 2 miles west of the Mermentau River.

At the Calcasieu Lock we saw S/V C'est la Vie ahead of us. "I think they might be TMCA members," I said to Marion, "Where is the directory?"

"I'll go find it."

The directory listed the boat as a 44' Morgan. That checked out. We called and asked for them by name.
They were naturally surprised and confirmed that they were Jane and Jeff Landry and on their way to Florida. They planned to stop at the Mermentau River anchorage that night.

As we approacehed the Bayou Lacassine a passing tow vectored us into the bayou opening and told us, "Follow dat east bank roun... you go slow... drop you hook jus pass de bend.. You be safe from traffic. Y'all have a good night y'heah."

We did as directed and found 11 feet of water in the bayou entrance. At the bend it was 6 feet. We coasted to a stop and dropped anchor.

All of a sudden we were in a place where there there was no sign man had ever been there. The east bank had cypress trees mixed in with the hardwood forest. The west bank was non existent... just a broad shallow lake with occasional marsh outcroppings and floating hyacinth. Cormorants were in abundance diving for fish. A Great Blue Heron was wade fishing in the marshy area. A Snowy Egret sat on the top of an ancient navigation marker and occasionally stretched and preened herself.
 
 

We toasted each other on the foredeck with gin and tonics. To while away the hours before sunset I pulled out the fishing gear and cast a lure at the spots where the fish were jumping. Marion tried her hand as well. We didn't catch a thing. Maybe the Louisiana fish won't take a Texas lure.

 

Promptly at sunset the Mosquitos drove us to shelter on the aft deck.  The sunset and the fading light changed the appearance and coloration of the marsh minute by minute. I attempted to catch the moment on film.

Intracoastal City

The next day on our way to Intracoastal City we passed C'est la Vie again. The trip to Intracoastal has long straight sections that make the cruising easy. Lots of time for sightseeing. And the weather was simply fantastic for the whole trip to Gulfport. Cloudless skies, virtually no wind, temps 60 to 78. This will be the only weather report for this section of the story.

Traffic got very congested as we approached the Leland-Bowman lock. At the bend before the lock and for the next 4 miles the traffic was moving at a crawl. On two occasions I passed tows too close for comfort.

"I want to go back."

"What?" I answered, "to Seabrook?"

"Yes Seabrook. I can't stand this... I am frightened... and everytime you pass we are all over the place."

I explained that I was having problems steering in the prop wash of the tows. I was afraid of going wider and hitting the shallows by the bank.  I promised to do better.

We made it in safely to Shell Morgan Fuel dock and we filled up on their famous low priced diesel fuel.
This fillup gave me an all important data point. We were getting 1.5 nm per gallon on the trip. That was much better than the 1 nm per gallon I had used for planning purposes.

We signed up for a one night stay, electricity included, filled up the water tank, and moved across to the transient dock. As we were settling in C'est la Vie arrived and fueled up. We called to them across the Lfairway that we were going for a late lunch at the hamburger place. Later over burgers we made proper introductions and traded the usual reports of cruising problems.

The next morning I discovered in the log a note from Marion:

    * Notes-        Never pass on a curve!

                        Never race up to a Barge
                        with another one passing him!!

Note from Ed:    Cardiac Arrest.

Morgan City

The long straight sections of the waterway changed to curves and wiggles at Weeks Island. Again we found some heavy traffic but not as bad as before. I made a pass around a slightly slower moving tow. It took an eternity but I managed to give more room this time.

"Thank you... Thank you," said Marion, "much better passing."

I smiled and said, "Thank you for them kind words. Does this mean we don't have to go back to Seabrook?"

She smiled and nodded yes. I felt much better too.

Just past Cote Blanche Island I came upon a sight from my distant past. It is a cable operated ferry that connects to an oilfield road on the south side of the ICW.
 

Back in 1957 I had riden that ferry every day to work on Shell Exploration oil rig that was drilling toward a formation 17,000 feet below the surface.  I was fresh out of school and had a summer job with National Supply Research center in Pittsburgh PA. I was sent to New Iberia to gather data on how our drilling equipment was performing. I took measurements on slush pump pressures, flow rates, power consumption, and turnaround time on drill bit changes.

I also learned to drink rig coffee. It was a dark roast blend with added chickory that had been started in a 3 gallon aluminum percolator about six months before my arrival. Water and coffee were added to the pot whenever the coffee level got down to 1/2 inch in the sight glass. Being the junior hand on the rig I got to make the coffee when I was on duty.

I could not see that the cable ferry or the shell road leading to it had changed in the past 42 years.

Another 15 miles or so and we entered Berwick Traffic Control. Control keeps track of all boats operating in or near the intersection of the ICW and the Achafalaya River. We checked in and requested clearance to the Morgan City Municipal docks. There was space for us and we backed in to the pier and tied off the stern to two dock cleats and the midship to pilings  along either side.

A half hour or so later C'est La Vie came in and docked in the empty slip alongside. The docks are free to transient pleasure boats and include water, plus  20, 30 and 50 Amp service.  The only downside is the location immediately under the US Highway 90 bridge.  It is very noisy there.
 
 
 

Lafitte Again our plans changed. Houma was so close that we decided to press on another 40 miles to Lafitte. The trip was uneventful, fast and took almost 10 hours.  When we arrived we circled at the Fleming Canal Fuel Dock... then we went to look for an anchorage... then we returned to the dock where we were invited to tie up for the night.

We met two other couples who were travelling from Clear Lake to Florida. Eric and Carol Wood on S/V Driftwood, and Brian and Theresa Knutsen on S/V Estralita are travelling together to Florida then down to Mexico and on to Honduras. We had dinner with them at Boutte's Restraunt, went back to the boat and crashed into bed.

Rabbit Island

Our trip was more hurried than originally planned because of the two week delay in starting. We are trying to get to Clearwater, Florida a few days before Thanksgiving.  This is the bi-annual family reunion for Marion, her two sisters and the nieces, nephews and attached inlaws. This is offered by way of explaination for why we did not spend a few days in New Orleans.

As we approached the Harvey locks, just before entering the Mississippi, we found we would be getting in to New Orleans around noon. We could cut a whole day by continuing East. Rabbit Island at the entrance to Mississippi Sound from the ICW was as far as we could go without being at sea after sundown. We decided to press on to Rabbit Island.
 
 

When we cleared the Harvey locks we checked in with Gretna Traffic Control, as instructed by the Lockmaster. "Yes. Remedy, I can see you," came a voice over VHF 68 after we had called, "Turn to starboard and proceed to the Bridge. I will give you instructions to cross the river when you get to the Bridge." I was spooked.  He could see me. I could not see him. I didn't know where he was. It was sort of like "Twilight Zone".

As I got to the Bridge my curiosity was killing me. "Gretna Control, Gretna Control, This is Remedy."
 

"Yes, Remedy." "Control, how do you know what I'm doing?  Do you have TV cameras, Radar, or what?" I asked. "Remedy, look over to your right, see that tower?" he replied. "Yep." I said after searching the right bank.

"I'm watching you from the tower," he answered. " You have a nice day, now."
 

We passed under the bridge and enjoyed a great photo-op as we passed The Riverwalk, downtown New Orleans, Jackson Square, the river boats along the bank, and the French Quarter. Soon we were at the entrance to the Industrial Lock.

We were instructed by the voice on VHF 14, "Enter the holding basin, and keep to the right. Come forward to a point fourty feet from the right wall, NOT four hundred feet. Hold there. There will be two vessels coming out of the locks. When they pass, come  into the lock and move to the front of the lock on your port side. Have a line and fenders ready on the port side."

"Right",  I replied, "I'm going to pull up, and stop on the right. Then I will wait for two boats to come out."

I had forgotten the rest of the instructions.

"Marion," I called to my mate, "We need fenders on the port and a line from the bow."

We passed quickly into the lock awaiting further instructions. We were the only boat, so we got great attention. A courrier line was passed down, Marion secured our bow line to it, the bow line was hoisted and secured. The water in the locks rose six inches. The lock was opened, and we were on our way.

Instead of going up to Lake Poncetrane, we hooked a right and took the ICW eastward. This would save us several miles and move us along our way.

The anchorage du jour was Rabbit Island. Fortunately, as we approached there was a tow boat to be passed. Tow boat captains know all there is to know about the waterway.  If there is one around, and you have any question, ask them. They will help. In our case we had a chart with three possible anchorages marked on it by the previous owner. Where to go?

"There's an old oil rig off on your port side ...  in that cut about two miles ahead... It's falling down so don't tie off to it.... I've seen boats up in there a lotsa times... you will be safe there." advised the towboat captain.
 

Description of the Scene: One 300 foot wide ICW running east/west. Teardrop shaped marsh island, cut by ICW from a bayou bend. One Gigantic rusty, falling down oil rig. One Railroad trestle 3/4 mile North East. One deserted Live Bait place 1/4 mile due East. Three uninhabited weekend fishing camps by the railroad tracks. Marsh grass everywhere there was not water.

We pulled in at Rabbit Island and dropped anchor in 11 feet of water. We were alone.
 
 

After getting settled on the hook a freight train came by.  He saw us anchored out in nowhere, gave several cheery blasts on his big horn and waved to us.  I was too far away from our bell, which I would have rung vigorously, so we just waved back. Shortly before sunset the three sailboats from Clear Lake joined us at the anchorage.  The mosquitos set upon us and we fled below.