Annual Pensacola Cruise
Michael D. Biggs
Cousin Susan and I went to the boat Wednesday, June 6 to provision and spend the night so that we could get an early start. By 8 AM the next morning we were out of the slip, bound for Horn Island off the Mississippi coast about 65 miles away. The other two boats of our flotilla had left the week before for Point Cadet in Biloxi, their crews intending to return Saturday, June 8, to join us and continue on to Pensacola.
Mariposa in her new slip in the scenically rustic Bonfouca Marina. Or maybe that's "rustically scenic".
We made good time, getting through the three drawbridges protecting Lake Pontchartrain and New Orleans from riff-raff and out into the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) by noon. About that time we noticed thunderstorms building up ahead of us, but although we played tag with them the rest of the afternoon, we got only a light shower or two before we reached our anchorage at Horn Island around 5 PM. We'd no sooner got anchored and got the awning up, though, before a thunderstorm came right over. Cousin Susan got an early initiation into riding out storms at anchor, something that was to serve her well later.
That first day was tiring, as all days on board seem to be, but we made up for it the second day out, Friday, by staying anchored at Horn Island. Cousin Susan and I walked the beach for awhile, but mostly lazed around on board. The moon that evening was almost full, and the resulting light dampened the enthusiasm of the photoplankton for flashing, but we did spot a few. I showed Susan that they'd flash in the commode when it was pumped, a sight that even most sailors have never seen. She later told our fellow sailors that I stuck her head in the commode.
We were up early Saturday morning, not wanting to miss our friends when they came out of Biloxi, or hold them up. Several times I tried to reach them by radio, but no luck. Around 9 AM I figured I better start towards our next overnight stop at Dauphin Island, in case they had somehow got ahead of us, but we motored slowly so that they could catch up if they were still behind us. Finally we made contact, meeting up at the ICW dogleg off Horn Island, and proceeded on to Dauphin Island.
That's Heaven Bound in the foreground towing the dinghy, and Spirit of Holiday in the distance. Pascagoula is even further in the background.
It was a beautiful day for sailing, and Heaven Bound and Spirit of Holiday made the most of it. I decided I didn't quite have the energy to wrestle with sails, so we motored along with the other two, who were making no more than five knots, anyway. That left us free to operate wherever we wanted, and we stayed alongside first one for awhile, then the other. It also left me free to slow down to reel in fish: a small, fast fish called a yellowtail, I think, and a small Spanish mackerel. I tossed both back.
Spirit of Holiday holding wing-and-wing without a whisker pole.
Later in the afternoon, about two hours before we'd reach our intended stop, a small harbor at Dauphin Island at the foot of the Dauphin Island bridge, we began to see another sailboat coming over from the Bayou La Batre area. We met up with the crew of Mary Bow at the restaurant later, and they joined our flotilla on its way to Pensacola.
We entered the channel into the harbor around 5 PM. The channel was narrow and there was a 15 kt crosswind. That ominous combination reached out and grabbed Spirit of Holiday, which eased up onto a sandbar, fast aground. Cousin Susan rigged a bridle for Mariposa so that we could pull from the center, and we soon had Spirit of Holiday off, but that wasn't the end of the matter. Then our two boats were tied together, headed in different directions, in a narrow channel with a moderate cross wind. I sweated blood until we managed to get the towline untied. Docking at the restaurant was a piece of cake in comparison to the un-grounding evolutions.
With Mary Bow added to our flotilla, we pulled out Sunday morning by 7 AM. The conditions in Mobile Bay were excellent, and we motorsailed across. We'd have made good time, but while Spirit of Holiday and Heaven Bound went on ahead, Mary Bow and Mariposa hung back to stay behind a tow boat and barge. I prefer dealing with tow boats and barges in the un-confines of a bay rather than the narrow water of a canal, which was what we were about to enter the other side of Mobile Bay. I was reasonably sure Mariposa could stay ahead of this particular tow boat and barge, but not so sure Mary Bow could. They had a cracked engine head, were losing about a gallon of engine oil a day (which is about all the oil our engines will hold, so they were totally replacing their oil daily), and were not able to motor very fast.
Around 3 PM the flotilla had all made it to Ingram's Bayou, a beautiful and protected spot to anchor. Everyone dinghied to a small beach for a relaxing dip and some attitude adjustment before deciding to explore the bayou by dinghy.
Our flotilla, plus a boat in green trim, anchored in Ingram's Bayou.
Ingram's Bayou extends back about a mile from where most boats anchor, finally narrowing down to the point where it is necessary to shove overlapping branches aside to get a dinghy through. Cousin Susan and I went further in than the others, and decided we shouldn't be the only ones to have enjoyed such scenery. When we rejoined the others a short while later I launched into a tale about how just a little further in than they had gone, the creek opened up into a clear, quiet, hyacinth-covered pond in which we'd found a mama manatee and her calf, contentedly munching away. I might actually have carried it off, convincing the others to head back into the creek even further than we'd gone, but Cousin Susan began to shake uncontrollably, blowing the whole con.
Ken, Jacquie, and Perdido (Dido) the cat, of Heaven Bound. Kathleen of Mary Bow was on the dinghy, too, but didn't make it into the photo.
Danny and Karen (foreground) of Spirit of Holiday, and Mary of Mary Bow. You can probably get a cheap price on that boat behind Mary.
Susan and me, in Ingram's Bayou, just before we "saw the manatees."
We arose leisurely Monday morning, traveling only about four miles to Bear Point Marina for lunch, then refueling our diesel tanks. Afterwards we headed on to the lagoon at Ft. McRae (except that some authorities call it Ft. McRee). That afternoon everyone headed for a strip of beach where we sat in the cool water, adjusted our attitudes some more, and strolled the beach. There were quite a few jellyfish in the water, and some of us found out the hard way that they sting. I also managed to break a shear pin on the dinghy's outboard by running up onto a sand bar.
Mary Bow left for home Tuesday morning. We found out later that they hadn't made it as far as Bear Point Marina before their engine burned up. They were towed into the marina and Mary and Kathleen took buses home. Cousin Susan and I headed out into the Gulf so that Susan could see the blue water. The wind was the usual 15 kts, but the Gulf was rougher than usual, and we saw all we wanted to in the time it took us to get about two miles out the channel, so we turned around and headed back.
Cousin Susan and I generally loafed around Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday while Heaven Bound went into Rod and Reel Marina for the summer and Spirit of Holiday went into Rod and Reel to pick up Karen's friend, Donna. This was the period during which I proved conclusively that I cannot handle a cast net. Thursday afternoon Spirit of Holiday and Mariposa headed for Seville Harbor in the historic district of Pensacola to see the sights. Friday evening Ken, Jacquie, Karen, Donna, Danny, Susan, and I headed for McGuire's Irish Pub for dinner. Coming out we were accosted by religious freaks yelling we were bound for Hell due to our indulgence in alcoholic beverages. During this time we also became aware that our Louisiana homes had been hit by Tropical Depression Allison, which had rained prodigiously on them.
Susan and I visited the Naval Aviation Museum Friday. The place is a must-see for anyone with the slightest interest in airplanes or the history of World War II. Saturday the two of us explored the museums and displays in the Historic Disrict. We were disappointed to find out that the trolley buses don't run on weekends, but that turned out okay because the entire district is within three blocks of the marina. Much as we enjoyed the various displays and re-enactments of candle making, fire starting, and the like, the Wentworth Museum stands out. Before I go further, let me make clear that it is a worthwhile museum. But as its own brochure states, it's eclectic. One of the first items we found was the petrified cat. Actually mummified, it was a cat entombed in the wall of a building around 1865 and found a century later. Then it was put on display in the museum. Another item on display is a large bone, something like the thigh bone of a mammoth, labeled "Prehistoric Monster Bone." The final display item that really caught our attention was a carefully arranged skeleton of a rat.
We rejoined Spirit of Holiday in the lagoon at Ft. McRae Sunday afternoon, where we anchored for the night, but Spirit of Holiday moved to anchor near Rod and Reel Marina. Susan and I reached appropriate folks at home by cell phone to be assured our homes weren't flooded, bringing us considerable relief, and allowing peaceful repose.
We awoke the next morning to high winds. It seems that Allison had worked its way over to Pensacola. Somehow NOAA had not managed to provide much warning about the original formation of Allison, nor about its movement east, so Allison continued to catch us by surprise. An hour or so after Cousin Susan and I stirred from our bunks, here came Spirit of Holiday back into the lagoon. She'd drug anchor out in Big Lagoon, so Danny, Karen, and Donna had moved back in close to us after a tough two hours in the wind and rain. The winds were steady over 30 kts, with gusts over 40, but we were fairly well protected from waves in our lagoon.
NOAA told us the storm should move on through by a little after noon, and if they meant the rain would go, they were right. The wind continued to blow another eight hours. Around mid-afternoon we heard a radio call from a sailing friend to the Rod and Reel Marina, where he had reservations for a slip. After checking with them about the slip, he decided to anchor out until the wind abated - Rod and Reel is badly exposed to a south or west wind. I suggested by radio that he anchor in the lee of Redfish Point, because by that time, although we were not seeing rough seas, we were open to the west from which the wind was then blowing. He thought the idea sounded good, and he was on his way. A few minutes later we heard a radio call from Rod and Reel trying to warn him about a shoal area he was approaching. A few minutes after that we heard a call from him to Rod and Reel, asking them to see if they could locate a towing service because they'd run aground. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening listening to the operation in which a too-small towing service boat manned by a single person with no radio attempted to pull the large sailboat off the bar, and ended up needing rescue itself. I was convinced that I could have helped, but we were pinned by having put up our awning the afternoon before. I could have cut it loose, but any attempt to take it down in anything like the usual manner would have ended up with Susan and me soaring off under the awning like a big kite. We'd also have had to do something with the dinghy before attempting to help. Then a small fishing boat tried to help, and it, too, wound up on the sand bar. The sailboat and the fishing boat were still aground when we arrived on site early the next morning.
While the fiasco of trying to pull my friend's sailboat off the shoal was going on, Cousin Susan was redeeming my reputation, which she had sullied by telling our cruising companions that I'd stuck her head in the toilet. She got so bored that afternoon of the high winds but otherwise okay weather that she put on her swimsuit, got out on the bow, and right in front of Spirit of Holiday, she went to polishing the stainless steel. Karen and Donna decided I was some kind of captain.
Allison finally moved on, mostly, leaving relative calm and a pretty sunset.
A little wading around our friend's fast-aground sailboat Tuesday morning convinced me that we could get him off quickly. Once again I was greatly wrong. We tried, but turned the job over to Towboat US when they arrived around 10 AM. After working for about an hour and a half, they called a second Towboat US boat to come help, and the two finally got our friend's boat off the bar around 1 PM, nearly a full day after he'd gone aground.
Cousin Susan and I headed back to Ingram's Bayou Tuesday afternoon, in preparation for heading back home with Spirit of Holiday Wednesday.
Midmorning Wednesday, while Susan and I were relaxing in the cockpit, waiting until our noon departure, the anchor windlass decided it would like to pay out a little chain. An hour's work on the switch got it to working intermittently, so I decided we'd better pull our anchor so that we could avoid delaying the departure for home. Things went fairly well until I accidentally stepped on the errant foot switch, and the windlass made a grab for a rope along with the anchor chain. The result was some broken parts in the windlass, in addition to the switch that needs replacement. Ah, well. That's cruising.
Around noon Wednesday, as planned, Spirit of Holiday radioed that she was underway, skippered by Danny and crewed by Ken and Jacquie. Karen and Donna had left for home by car the day before, a day later than planned, due to the storm. We made good time getting back to Mobile Bay and across, and once again tied up at the restaurant at the foot of the Dauphin Island bridge. This time we were lucky to find the slip available because no one had reserved it. We were unlucky to find the restaurant closed, but the owner of the bar (the slip actually belongs to her) arranged to drive us to another restaurant for dinner, and returned later to pick us up. I've known such service in another marina or two, but it still seems to be an extraordinarily friendly thing to do. The boating community is still a nice one to be in most of the time.
Thursday was to be a very long day, according to plan. Little did we know how long it was really going to be. We had good wind, and motorsailed most of the day at nearly 7kts.
Spirit of Holiday, making about 7 knots motorsailing, homeward bound. Then...
About two hours before we reached the railroad bridge at the entrance to the Rigolets, the channel into Lake Pontchartrain, Spirit of Holiday radioed that she'd lost her engine. Rather, while the engine would run, there was no drive from the prop. So I killed our engine and both boats sailed along. Then Spirit of Holiday radioed that they were unable to climb upwind enough to stay out of shallow water, and they were in danger of running aground on a spoil bank that paralleled the ICW channel in that area. I cranked our engine and rolled up our sails to go over to investigate, and sure enough, they were in less than eight feet of water. The waves weren't terribly high, the usual Gulf chop, but the troughs were low enough that Spirit of Holiday could get into trouble even without the water getting much shallower. We made two attempts to tow them upwind, failing to get the line made up quickly enough on the first attempt, and breaking the tow line on the second when I tried to move them a little too directly upwind. I can tell you that attempting to establish a tow with both boats plunging along at 5 kts in that chop was a lot more excitement than I really wanted. We probably would have been successful on another attempt with a heavier tow line, but by then Spirit of Holiday was almost past the shallow area and approaching a change in course direction that would free her wind. Sure enough, she soon was sailing freely along the channel. The railroad bridge tender said he had no trains scheduled, so he could keep the bridge open while Spirit of Holiday sailed through, which she did, with Mariposa motoring close behind.
The Rigolets offered sufficient protection from waves that we were soon in smooth water, and Spirit of Holiday was able to sail most of the way to the Geoghegan Canal. We'd altered our plans for the night to stop there rather than going on to an anchorage, because there was a fuel dock at Geoghegan where we'd have access to roads and telephones for getting Spirit of Holiday repaired. With conditions much better for the operation, we established a tow for the last mile or two. It would have been easy except that by then it was dark, and we had a 15 kt tailwind. We managed to find our way past the sandbar at the entrance to the canal, then managed not to get run down by the bare-poling Spirit of Holiday, still booming along at 3 kts, as we approached the dock. Speaking of managing, the folks at the dock managed to snub Spirit of Holiday with only superficial damage to a teak rail, even though she came shooting along the dock at that same 3 kts. Sailboats don't have much in the way of brakes when the engine isn't working, especially if already under bare poles. Danny and I figured the next morning that we should have stopped outside the canal entrance, deployed his dinghy and lashed it to his boat, then used the dinghy to nurse the boat alongside the dock. After that long, hard day, though, we just didn't think of it at the time. As it was, Cousin Susan and I had excitement of our own trying to get into a slip, but we made it finally. As upset as Danny had been earlier with the engine trouble, he was as happy as the rest of us were to be safely tied up for the night with no expensive damage to either boat.
Susan and I weren't in any rush to get underway the next morning, but we did pull out before 10 AM. We arrived back in the home marina a little after noon, where we went through the usual post-cruise routine of cleaning up, sorting out perishable supplies, and packing up belongings. I arrived home around 6 PM, having delivered Susan to her home in New Orleans along the way.
I haven't talked to Danny personally, but talking to a mutual friend I found out that Spirit of Holiday's engine and transmission are being pulled so that the transmission can be rebuilt. There just isn't anything like cruising and sailboats. Cousin Susan said she had a good time and wants to go again.
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