December 8, 2022: More fog, more tows, a very long wait for a lock, and an unnerving cruise in total darkness.
(continued from Waverly (Cuba Landing) to Clifton, TN)
When I woke up, it was foggy out. No surprise there. It was the same patchy fog I was beginning to associate with this part of the country. Patrick’s boat, parked near us, was quiet with no sign of life aboard.
The restaurant would not open until 9 AM for breakfast. That was too late I wanted to be on the water by then, continuing our trip to escape the weather.
So after taking my pups for their morning walk, having breakfast, and taking my pups for their pre-departure walk, we loaded up and cast off.
The Cruise
The cruise was more of the same. The fog was patchy for the first two hours; we’d motor into it, slow down, eventually motor out of it, and speed up. The day was gray.
I was getting really crappy mileage at just about any speed I chose. I realized that it was because of the current on the river. Now that we were in a narrow, more river-like section of Kentucky Lake, the water was flowing faster. At one point, at 2200 RPM we were doing only 6.2 knots and getting just 1.1 nautical mile per gallon.
We motored on for hours. My notes say we passed a parked southbound tow and a moving northbound tow. There was a southbound tow up ahead of us — I saw it on AIS — and I knew there was no sense in getting close since it would get let through the lock up ahead before us anyway. So I slowed down. I guess I hoped that we’d get there just when he was done locking down and they’d let us follow.
Silly me.
At Pickwick Lock
We arrived at Pickwick Lock at 2:45 PM. Our destination was less than a mile from the lock.
The lockmaster told us we were looking at a two-hour wait. There was a long tow locking down from Pickwick Lake. The first half of the tow was in the lock and coming down. They’d push the barges out, close the gates, fill the lock (without us in it), and open it up top for the rest of the tow. Then they’d lock that down, open the gates, connect the two halves of the tow, and move out of the way so we could get in.
A two-hour wait with nowhere to tie up was not what I wanted to hear. But would it really take two hours?
And this is where I learned a new trick. About a half mile downstream from the dam, I pointed the boat at the lock, turned on autopilot heading hold, and put the boat in forward idle. Normally, forward idle would give me 3 to 3.5 knots, but with a current of about 2.5 to 3 knots coming out of the dam, the net effect was less than a knot of forward speed. I was inching up toward the dam. When I got close, I’d kill the heading hold, put the boat in neutral, and let us drift back to where we’d started. Then I’d do it all again.
Time ticked by. Alyse kept busy by making a sauce for the pasta we planned to have for dinner. I was pretty much stuck keeping the boat in the channel.
And the lockmaster was wrong. It didn’t take two hours. It took nearly three.
When the second barge came out, it was filled with something steaming. We think it might have been wood chips. Who knows? Who cares? By the time it made its appearance, inching out of the lock to connect with the rest of the barges, the sun had gone down and it was getting dark fast. I turned on the boat’s navigation lights.
It was 5:30 PM when we finally got into the lock.
Cruising in Darkness
We locked up in what felt like slow motion. When the gates opened at the top, they opened to a black abyss. I couldn’t see anything in front of us beyond the lock gates.
I turned on my front spotlight. I still couldn’t see anything.
I knew the marina we wanted was south of the lock so I started moving to starboard at forward idle speed. Suddenly, there was a mooring cell about 20 feet in front of the boat. I swerved to port, peering into the darkness. I knew that mooring cells usually came in pairs. Where there was one, there would be at least one more. After a moment, it came out of the gloom and I went around it, too.
Meanwhile, Alyse had gone out on the gunwales where there was no glare on windows. She reported that my spotlight was pointed straight up. I adjusted it. It seemed as if it illuminated things about 10 feet in front of the boat. I was not impressed.
I focused on the chart plotter, which showed a clear path to get into the marina. I’d have to put my boat exactly in the channel and hope that we’d see any markers we were about to hit. I turned to the south.
West of where the marina should be were a ton of Christmas lights. We think it might have been one of those drive-through light displays that some places have because there were car headlights among them. It was helpful as a reference for land.
Until all the lights went out at once. Every single one of them. Gone. Black.
I crept forward, glad it was neither windy nor rough. And apparently not foggy — but how would I know? I couldn’t even see stars overhead.
My path took me toward a white light. If I remember right, it was — of all things — an illuminated No Wake sign. You’d think they’d invest in some illuminated channel markers first, no?
I went around it as close as I could. I didn’t know what side of it I was supposed to be on. We kept inching forward. And then, suddenly, we saw the lights of the marina. They had been blocked from view on the way in by a hillside between the marina and the dam.
I was crazy relieved. The tension of our situation had been hard on me. Until we saw the lights, it had been completely pitch black dark. I did not want to crash my nice new boat. I just wanted to park it for the night.
I glided forward, into one of the slips I’d been directed to when I made the reservation. As I got out of the boat to help Alyse secure it, the sky opened up and it poured rain on us.
We had arrived.
At Pickwick Lake State Park
I was a mental mess — completely spent — when we arrived. But I still managed to hook up the power and take my pups for a walk.
The place was closed, of course, and we didn’t see another person around.
Back at the boat, I made us martinis with the last of the vodka. We needed them.
We had dinner. The pasta was excellent. We did minimal clean up. It could wait until the morning.
One more walk for my pups, and I went to bed.
(continued in Pickwick Dam, TN to Fulton, MS (Midway))
A note for something to upgrade: A replacement BRIGHT searchlight? A couple or three posts ago I wondered what the light situation was. Less than adequate, sounds like. Reading this, I was starting to feel fatigued too – fog and darkness, alone or together – no bueno!!
The idea is not to use the boat at night. But yeah, if I thought this would happen again, a brighter light would definitely be useful.
Harrowing!
When I first realize that we’d have to get there without any lights to guide us, I admit that I was pretty much terrified. I don’t know what we would’ve done without the chart plotter.