As I said last week, I didn’t wear a coonskin cap or carry a musket, but I easily imagined myself on a keel boat while cruising down the Illinois River during the Great Loop trip in 2015. We’d be on this river for 273 miles of relatively flat water on the eastern edge of middle America.
My tension had finally eased, but the challenges for Capt. Mark increased tenfold.
Today boats carrying products to market aren’t narrow or made of wood. They’re covered barges pushed by powerful tugs…three barges across and five deep and cruisers in pleasure boats (that’s what they called us), better get out of their way. They were also a challenge to pass.
Commerce had doubled on the rivers, according to lockmasters. With old locks that are 110 feet wide and 600 feet long, it sometimes took two hours or more to get a 15-barge tug and tow through one lock while we PBs had to hang out at the edges, waiting our turn. For those who haven’t seen this, picture three barges across and five barges down, all tied together, being pushed by a huge tug boat. To go through a lock, they had to be untied and taken in groups. Whew!
Guidebooks told us the commercial boats had priority. Not true. If five or more of us PBs were tethered to the edges of a lock approach, the lockmaster would sometimes let the cruisers go through, just to get them out of the way. Our longest wait was three hours, but most of the time we were able to go “next.”
What was in those barges? We saw benzene, oil, pipes, rocks, soil, fertilizer, coal…the list goes on. Clusters of industrial plants were often just around the bend and barges often lined the edges of the channel, waiting for cargo.
As we cruised south on rivers we passed old towns struggling to survive that once had docks and served as ports, but are now up on higher ground or behind tall retaining walls, having seen too many floods. Marinas were few and far between, but there were still pretty anchorages behind pristine islands full of white pelicans, bald eagles, and snowy egrets.
After a few days on the Illinois River, we would start down the Mississippi River, in a place where white cliffs lined the banks…a change of scenery, for sure. But the tugs and barges would still be there and we’d be tucking ourselves on the edge of the channel as we passed. Around every bend would be more old towns, more history and new songs would come to mind for me to belt out.Ol’ Man River, Summertime, Proud Mary…poor Captain Mark needed earplugs.
We both survived, and anticipation began to grow. The end of the trip was near, but there was still a lot left to see. More next week.