Something ‘bout a boat…
After almost six weeks in the boat yard, the work was complete. Six weeks. Was only going to be two or three, but between bad weather, blister repair drying time, and some family obligations, three became six. Boat projects, sigh. Still, Kotona was ready to launch and begin the 36 mile trip back to our marina.
Launch day was on Wednesday, which also happens to be the day Amy has some church obligations, and our friends that have shuttled us between marinas before, were out of town this week. So our plan was for me to move the boat back to nearby Grand Harbor Marina for the night, and try to get back to my car at Spry Marine somehow. Grand Harbor is very popular in the Looper Community and tries very hard to accommodate transient boaters. They were able to recommend a local business that specializes in deliveries for marina and lake house dwellers, and after contacting them, I had someone that could drive me back to my car at Spry Marine. Drove back to Grand Harbor, secured the boat for the night and made my way back to the house.
We left Decatur early Thursday and headed to Florence Harbor Marina to drop off a car there, then in the other car made our way to Grand Harbor. The weather cooperated to make it a nice day for a river cruise. Temps would rise to the mid 80s, though there would not be much wind but then most of the river channel is not wide enough to sail anyway, so no big deal. We arrived at Grand Harbor around 10:30, restocked the fridge, put a few tools and supplies we wouldn’t need back in the car, and finished tidying up the cabin. The last six weeks the inside of the boat looked like a workshop, with tools, rags, painting and fiberglassing supplies occupying a good chunk of the living space. Free of all those implements of construction, she now looked more like a boat. Still in need of a good scrubbing, but more like home.
After getting ice from the marina store, we departed about 11:15 and made our way out to the main river channel. What little wind there was was right on the nose, so no sailing today. We thought about it, but we wanted to get to the marina before dark, and tacking our way upstream was not going to improve our chances of making that happen. It turned out that we made the right call, as our timing could not have been better.
Boat traffic was a bit more active than we expected for a Thursday, mostly bass boats with the occasional pontoon boat. We made our way upstream, checking the stuffing box temperature every hour or two to be sure it was functioning properly. It was slightly warm, but you could keep your hand on it, which meant it was getting enough water to stay lubricated. It often takes a couple of trips to adjust the tension on the packing nut so that the water flow is just right: an occasional drip underway, no drips when docked.
It was a lovely day to be on the water. This part of Pickwick Lake is always scenic. The wooded hillsides, puffs of wind across the water, and a handful of cumulus clouds were putting on a really good show today. Amy was at the helm, a contented smile on her face. I asked how she was doing. “It’s nice to be back home”, she replied. I could tell her mood had improved as soon as we were back aboard, and after an hour or so underway it was obvious. Being on the water does that for us, it’s one of the reasons we sail.
The first part of the trip was uneventful. Our engine seems to perform best at about 2500rpm, and that gave us “speed through the water” of around 5.5 knots; an improvement of a little over half a knot, compared to before the bottom work. Nice. Unfortunately, our "speed over ground”, once we hit the main river channel, was not so great. As soon as we turned the corner from the Tenn-Tom channel, we encountered the Tennessee River current. Recent rains had been regular and sometimes heavy, so we expected a bit of current, and we were right. Speed over ground as measured by our GPS varied between 5 and 5.3 knots for the first hour or so. But further along, as the lake narrowed, the current increased. More on that later.
Around three o’clock, we passed under the Natchez Trace Parkway Bridge. That marks roughly the halfway point of our trip, but it also marked the area where the lake becomes more of a river again. The river narrows noticeably over the next mile or so, and with it the channel also narrows. So we kept an eye out for barge traffic and made sure we were on our side of the channel, as near to the markers as we could safely be. Fortunately barge traffic was pretty light, we only encountered two tows the whole trip, and had plenty of room to share the channel.
Around four o’clock we were getting close to the first section of industrial parks along this part of the river. It was at this point that we noticed two things. The current had increased and a line of very dark clouds was approaching from behind us. We’ve been on Kotona in the rain before, but not a storm. I checked the weather radar on my phone, and the storms were moving about 30mph. We were not going to outrun them.
This part of the river doesn’t offer a lot of protection from winds. There’s the occasional small island but either it’s not nearly big enough to offer real protection or it’s in a very shallow part of the river and is inaccessible to us. About two miles ahead there is a small cove that could offer better protection but it was 20-30 minutes away, and from looking at the radar, we didn’t have that long.
We closed the portholes and hatches, and when we saw the rain coming, got into our foul weather jackets. It was a light rain at first, just a late spring shower, but soon it got heavier, though not as much as I would have expected. Then it stopped. I checked the radar again, zooming in on our location. The bright yellows and reds that were there only 10 minutes before, were now green with just a few patches of yellow. I zoomed out and the solid line of rain had split. And amazingly, one half was north of us and the other half was heading south of us, leaving us with some intermittent light showers the rest of the way.
We offered some words of thanks and pressed on, hoping our luck would hold. We were about one hour away at this point. Though we dodged the heaviest of the rain, we weren’t so lucky with the current. Kotona has two ways of displaying our speed. One is a small paddlewheel just off to one side of the keel. The electronics it is connected to computes our speed through the water. Our GPS shows our speed over ground. The difference in these two is due to current or wind or both. Today it was current. We had kept a consistent 5.5 knots through the water since we left Grand Harbor. But our speed over ground had dropped to just over 4 knots.
With that drop in speed came an occasional sluggishness in steering. It was like you were always having to overcorrect. Some of that I could attribute to current, but there was something else. The response was just slower than it should be as if the rudder was late compared to the wheel. Amy took the helm and I raised the cockpit hatch that allows access to the steering cables. “And there’s your problem.” When we reinstalled the rudder and reattached the steering quadrant, the eye bolts that hold the cables taut, had obviously not been tightened enough. There was slack in the cables. It was in no danger of coming completely loose, but there was enough play to make the steering feel weird. I tightened the cables, snugged up the eyebolts and tightened everything down. Kotona felt like herself again.
About 6:00, we came around the last big bend in the river before Florence Harbor, we could see the Hwy. 72 bridge in the distance. We could also see our speed over ground drop to below 4 knots. This part of the river narrows and you can also see Wilson Dam in the distance, so we were about to encounter the most current of the trip. Our speed over ground fluctuated between 3.5 and 3.8 knots for the next mile. There’s a saying in sailing that “gentlemen never sail to weather”, meaning avoid sailing upwind, if you don’t have to. I’d add “don’t motor upstream after some heavy rains”, to that advice. But motor we did; slowly making progress toward the marina.
We were just under a mile from the bridge, when the northern end started to slowly disappear. In a moment it was gone. Rain, pretty heavy, crossed in front of us, and obscured the bridge completely. I checked the radar again and was relieved to see that it was not headed in our direction. We watched it move on toward Wilson Dam and enjoyed the short-lived rainbow it left for us. We laughed out loud at our luck. If we had left any sooner or any later, one of those two rain bands would have caught us. They weren’t severe storms, but still.
The entrance to the marina was now just off to port. We made our turn and as we did we were met with the aroma of grilling meats from the River Bottom Grille restaurant, on the marina grounds. Guess where we’re having dinner! It smelled so good. As we passed the restaurant’s outdoor seating a couple of people waved at us. We docked uneventfully, secured the boat, shared high fives and hugs. I snugged up the dock lines, put things away and set up the cockpit table as Amy went to get us burgers from the restaurant. Those burgers and a couple of cold beverages were among the best dinners we’ve had on the boat.
It had been a very good day. Apart from having to adjust the steering cables, which was my fault for not checking closer before launch, Kotona made the trip just fine. There were a couple of adjustments to the stuffing box to get the right amount of lubrication, but that was an expected part of breaking in the new stuffing. We had had a great day on the water, a bit of adventure, a lot of beautiful scenery and an excellent dinner. With the yard work complete, we were one step closer to our retirement cruise. Still a few projects to go, but every day we’re having an easier time picturing ourselves anchored in some beautiful tropical landscape. Something ‘bout a boat… gives a man hope.