Tied to a dock in Columbus, Mississippi, it almost seemed surreal to be finally nearing the end of our 2015 journey. Eight months had gone by since we waved to people standing on a dock in Alabama and began the 5,200-mile trip that took us from the Gulf Coast to the rivers of Middle America.
The challenge? For me it was overcoming my fears—real or imagined—and finding the courage to stick it out, even when I desperately wanted to go home. I have to admit twice I considered packing my bag, leaving Mark a note, and getting myself to an airport.
But I didn’t.
Meals weren’t always exciting. Scenery sometimes took on a Groundhog Day quality. Marinas were interesting…from plush new resorts to barges full of old tires. Anchorages were peaceful, but generally buggy. And a huge regret was not staying long enough in most places to see all the sights.
The good news is after being together 24/7 in a small space, after walking miles and miles looking for a West Marine, and after thrashing ourselves and our poor boat in all kinds of weather, we still liked each other.
The last leg of the trip was through the Tennessee and Tombigbee Rivers (aka. The Ten-Tom Waterway), Black Warrior and Alabama Rivers.
We’d met many friendly people on the trip—many we’d seen in other places along the way—but it was a stranger who knocked on our window one morning, in the marina in Columbus. It was 5 a.m. and I was up writing. He said if we left in ten minutes, the lockmaster at the Stennis Lock and Dam would lock us through. A tug and tow was due and would otherwise delay us for half a day. Weather was coming, we were on a schedule, so we went.
So often we felt the kindness of strangers.
The highlight of this part of the trip, in addition to the fall color, was going through the Jamie Whitten Lock, the tallest in the Tenn-Tom Waterway. We dropped 84 feet after tying to a floating bollard. In all, we went through over a hundred locks of all types, heights, and ages on the trip. We tied the boat using ropes, cables, or floating bollards. The latter always screeched like a banshee.
On Oct. 26, 2015 we entered Mobile Bay and when we turned into the channel for Dog River Marina we officially crossed our wake. Like its owners, Sea Bear—one of the smallest boats in the Looper fleet—was tired and ready for a rest.
But it was a trip of a lifetime. One we’ll never forget.
(And yes, there is an epilogue to this story.)