more updates in addition to yesterday

Brett discovered that the battery cable had unattached itself from the altenator. We were relieved to find the altenator was not damaged. He quickly reattached the cable. The belt was also loose so he ran to the auto parts store and got a new belt that fit perfectly. It was nice to have such an inexpensive repair once again.

We got the rest of our mail already yesterday so we'll be heading out tomorrow morning. To our greatest surprise, Brett received his passport! It had arrived to Serendipity after we left so it was forwarded to our Post Office box. Then Mom, called us and let us know there was an official envelope for Brett in the mail. So we had her open it and it was his passport!! So we had her mail it to us. We had run into snags with the passport and had given up on the idea but now we both have our passports in our hand and our world of cruising has opened up a lot for us. We are actually anxious to cruise South and around the canal and back up to Oregon.

I rode my bike to Walmart today. It was raining and a very long ride. The traffic here in Houma is thick and there are no margins or bike paths. Not even cross walk signs! So it was pretty hairy riding in the rain to the stores. When I approached Walmart, I noticed Michaels across the street. So I HAD to make a pit stop to the store I'd been dying to visit for a month now. It was an answer to prayer really. I had discovered my clay I had was too hard for me to condition so I was able to pick up the softer clay as well as some more jewelry supplies.

I spent four hours out on the town. I found Brett standing at the edge of the docks waiting for me anxiously to get home.

Then we walked here to the Coffee Zone for more great coffee and a sandwich.

Pictures, First then Blog

This one is long guys. Sorry. I do hope you enjoy our adventure with us, though…

I didn't have time to arrange pictures with the blog. It takes hours to do that and I am overextending my time here at the coffee shop. The pictures are newest down to oldest.

DAY 10 BOW TIE MARINA TO BAYOU LACCISSINE…TALENS FUEL DOCK
We got up very early to leave Bow Tie Marina. We had a long haul that day and wanted t start out early so we could catch the times the bridges would open for us. We made good time. We had a long delay at the locks but we got right through the bridges. We had made it there two hours sooner than Brett thought we would. He thought we were twenty miles from the locks at Bow Tie, but we ended up only being about twelve.
I radioed to the traffic we approached around corners all day. At one point, a towboat captain got on the radio after I’d announced us.

“ I SSSUUWWRRR do LAAAWWWKK the way she tawks!” the captain exclaimed in a deep, hoarse Southern’ accent.

Brett and I laughed and laughed. I couldn’t think of anything clever to respond with.
Later, I was below organizing cabinets and we started around a bend. A barge peered around the corner. I quickly announced us and then Brett glided us to starboard. It was a very narrow corner. We soon slid to a gentle stop as the keel made its way into the Louisiana mud below us. The barge passed and Brett slipped out of the mud as fast as he’d slipped into it. We felt bad that we’d not announced ourselves to the towboat captain earlier. They have huge loads and cannot stop or turn on a dime to get out of our way. So we got out of theirs.

During my time on the radio, I have gotten to learn a lot about barge traffic. I’ve gotten to know what a “six pack” is and “passin’ on the one, cap’n” means. It’s been like learning a new language, both in radio talk terms and their thick, Cajun accents. Every one of them has been polite and courteous to us.

We continued down the waterway, watching storms build around us. It rained off and on throughout the day but we didn’t have the winds yet that were expected from the hurricane West of us.

I took my turn steering and Brett sat forward on the deck watching the scenery pass by. I looked ahead of us and noticed a sailboat coming around the bend up ahead! It was sailing and it looked like a catamaran to me. “Brett! A sailboat! Take pictures” I yelled to him.
He took pictures of the beautiful sailboat coasting by us. The captain on the vessel waved and stared at our stern. Then he turned to his first mate and pointed at us. He went below and within a few seconds we heard him calling us on the radio. Brett talked to him. They were on their way to Palacios. Brett said, “Serendipity?”

They said, yes. They were the catamaran that Dennis and Truda had been waiting for. So we didn’t miss seeing it after all. It was funny. Very small world.

The wind picked up slightly and we had clouds building around us. We reached the Bayou we were to anchor in for the night. Brett slowly approached the East entrance as per the book said to do. The water quickly dropped and we soon found ourselves hitting bottom before we got twenty feet into the bayou. Brett skillfully veered us out of the soft mud and back into the waterway. We tried again at several spots but it was too shallow for our 5’8” draft…
We had already traveled for hours and there was nothing better until Shell Morgan Landing at Intracoastal Waterway. We’d get there way after dark. We were worried to anchor in the upcoming river. I steered while Brett searched for options. A few miles beyond the bayou, was a fuel dock that had been closed to cruisers twelve years earlier. As we approached them at dusk, Brett called them.

“Do you have a place we could possibly tie up for the night?” he asked.

They found us a spot to tie next to steel barge for the night. We thanked them profusely and made our way into the docks toward the steel barge. The anchor scraped the side of the barge slightly as Brett parked our boat next to the heavy chunk of metal. He took the dinghy over to the office to pay them for letting us tie up. They refused money, but we had to be aware that a towboat might pick up the barge we were tied to in the middle of the night. So we had to keep channel 10 on to listen for traffic. We spent the restless night safely tied at the fuel dock. It was good to have a safe place to be in case those 20-25 knot winds hit.

DAY 11: TALENS FUEL DOCK TO SHELL MORGAN LANDING
The next morning, it drizzled but there was little wind. We made our way to Shell Morgan Landing. The Leland Bowman locks were ahead and looked busy on the chart. There was a lot of industrial happenings just West of the locks.
With blustery, rainy weather, we made it to the locks and ended up behind two barges and a small towboat, waiting to gather in the locks. We had passed at least a dozen other barges, parked along the waterway near the locks.

With the rain pouring, we called the locks and announced our approached. They had us line up behind the small towboat, Miss B. The two larger barges slowly made their way into the lock and tied up. Then, the small towboat crammed itself up next to the two barges. We had gotten a red light so I called the lockmaster to see if they wanted us to go behind Miss B. The lockmaster was very grumpy and there was a lot of miscoummunication between everyone on the radio. The west side of the locks was stacking up with barges as the lockmaster tried to even everyone out on our side.

The lockmaster replied to us to stand by, that the Miss B was NOT supposed to charge up into the locks like they did. We could have fit behind the Miss B but they had us wait as the locks closed. Brett had to steer the boat in figure eights as the wind howled around us. We were in idle and there were no sails up but the boat continued to creep forward. The rain started pouring. As we sat and waited, I grabbed Brett’s coat. I prepared our fenders and lines as it looked like the lockmaster might have us tie up. Brett hollered at me to get back below . The winds had gotten pretty blustery and he didn’t want me on deck. So we sat for an hour, waiting for the locks to open. The West side of the locks continued to complain about having to wait for us to go first after these barges went. I couldn’t believe they were complaining about waiting as Brett struggled to keep the boat near the locks in pouring down rain.

Finally they got us through. As we left the locks, we spun in and out of barge traffic. The whole thing had been extremely stressful for me. We finally came upon Shell Morgan landing. The guy helped us get diesel and water. We maneuvered the boat across the way to the transient slips after buying charts for New Orleans. The store was closed for the week and the other store was two miles away. So we had pancakes for dinner.

We spent the evening studying the charts, planning our next destination. We could make an anchorage another forty miles away. The waterway guide mentioned Cypremort Point where there were a variety of marinas and stores. This was on the other side of the Vermillion Bay. There was a cutoff near us that we could take to get into the bay. Then we could sail all the way across the eighteen miles. With the storms hitting us, we weren’t sure what we should do. The marinas sounded like a good place to stop and try to work on the transmission.

DAY 12: SHELL MORGAN LANDING TO CYPREMORT POINT
DAY 13, 14 AT THE CYPREMORT YACHT CLUB
We were awoken by extremely loud engines and lots of wake rolling us out of our berths. I peeked out the window and Brett scrambled out of the companionway. The boat we’d parked right in front of charged out of the dock. It looked like a gas station on an Interstate with workboats motoring in and out of the fuel dock, just a few feet from our slip.
Brett went to talk to the dockmaster about the cut and getting charts to the Bay. The weather had cleared up. It was hot and sunny and calm again. We made our way to the four mile cut to the bay. My hopes of sailing for the day were crushed as the wind continued to blow right on our nose.

I scrambled up and down the companionway, plotting our course on the chart every few minutes with the GPS. I navigated us using the GPS and the compass with the chart. Brett was sceptacle as we turned toward the point, off the channel. We approached an oil rig and he decided to head Northwest instead of West. I continued to question our course with the course on the chart. The tides kept pushing us North, too. Finally, I plotted us near the next channel and found us way North of where we needed to be. I had Brett go below to confirm. He came up and had me turn the boat almost 45 degrees. We were close but had drifted a ways north with the tides. We could not see land and only had our tools to get us there. The wind had picked up to about 5-10 knots. It was a perfect breeze to keep us cool.

I reveled in my navigation skills and teased him about questioning my bearings. Soon, we could see the point. As we passed marker 12, a small stick for a marker lay dead ahead. We had been watching for a shipwreck somewhere in our vicinity and, with only eight feet of water, I was on the sharp lookout for it. I hollered at Brett to swing the boat “hard to port”. (More like, I frantically waved my finger to the left and screamed “Go over there, move the boat over there!”)

We missed the small marker. I looked back as Brett said, “uh oh”.
As he swung the rudder, we lost steering. He dropped the boat into idle. I checked our depth and we had plenty of water around us. He quickly unloaded the lazarette (rear locker) so he could inspect the steering cables. A mound of lines, lifejackets, heavy tool bags and spare parts were soon scattered around the cockpit. As he called out for a flashlight and tools, I scrambled up and down the companionway to fetch them. I started to pack the gear into the boat to get them out of the way. He took a look and unhooked the steering wheel cable. Then he took our boat hook and jabbed it into the emergency tiller box. He started the engine and off we went, steering our thirty seven foot home with a boat hook. I looked at the remaining junk in the cockpit and quickly started packing it below. I didn’t want to enter a nice marina with crap everywhere. I couldn’t believe all the stuff we kept in the lazarette.

We made our way toward the point. We had difficulty finding the entrance as we watched small Sunfish sailboats playing ahead of us. Finally, a small sailboat approached and we asked them directions into the marina. They directed us near the restaurant and asked us if we were part of an association. Brett said yes and they offered their yacht club facilities. But after asking us our length, they said we were too long. We made our way to the small channel and toward the Baypoint Marina that the waterway guide had recommended. There was no indication of transient slips anywhere. Brett steered our boat, boat hook in hand, through the docks but couldn’t find a spot to land. Then we were directed back to the front at the yacht club.
They all introduced themselves. Barry, the ex-pro sailboat racer who owned the little sailboat, Butch, the sudo-commodore lawyer and Chip, the doctor. The friendly men asked us if we needed anything and bent over backward to make us welcome at the yacht club. They told us that the Bayview Marina was a private marina, that there were no public facilities at the point other than the small fuel dock at the restaurant. We explained to them what the Waterway guide had claimed. They told us that Bayview marina definitely had no transient slips for overnighters. It would have been disastrous if these nice men hadn’t let us stay at their yacht club docks. We were several miles from anywhere and it was getting late in the day.
We spent three days at the lovely yacht club, enjoying the company of other sailors. Everyone was extremely generous to us. We had a couple, Tam and Beth, offer to run our errands for us on the mainland. They also lent us the Skipper Bob books we needed and gave us loads of magazines. We couldn’t believe their generosity to us. Beth put it simply. “When we begin our journey around the Great Loop, we hope that others will help us when we need it.”
Brett spent hours the first day fixing the steering cable but finally got it into place. He then tried to work at replacing the transmission seal but after hours of battle, couldn’t remove the part to replace it.

I spent my days between building jewelry and visiting with Butch, Barry and Beth. They had all hooked me up with internet. Barry had driven me to a neighbor’s house to use the wifi in his driveway. Butch had someone out to the point to fix the yacht club’s internet so I could use it. I spent a lot of time trying to catch up on bills and the blog and jewelry. Beth and I swapped cruising tips and books. We all discussed the recent barge/tanker collision on the Mississippi River and how it would affect our travels.

Everyone had really detailed info about the upcoming stretch through the Harvey Locks. We even had Tam’s son, Tommy, talk to us about crossing the Gulf, around the Mississippi.

Brett and I discovered we were not part of the association that they asked us about. We showed Butch our yacht club cards but he didn’t care. He promptly tossed the problem aside and invited us to dinner with them and the kids at the Sunfish camp they were holding.Brett and I couldn’t believe how nice everyone was at the yacht club to us, these strangers on a blue and purple boat.
On the second day at the yacht club, I had returned from Barry taking me to his neighbor’s to use the internet. I looked into the water at the bow of our boat.

“Look! It’s an eel!” I squealed. A second later, I heard a splash. I looked to the stern, and saw Brett clambering into the dinghy from the water! He had just dove into the water to check the prop when he heard me mention the eel. I laughed as his dripping body sat in the dinghy. He had heard me say the word “eel” and panicked to be in the water. I watched the creature swim off and Brett jumped back into the water. He quickly dove under a few times. After a few minutes, he climbed into the dinghy.

“Well?” I asked impatiently.

“There’s barnacles and I think I cut my hand on an oyster on the prop” he declared as he peeled off the swim fins.

Later, Butch confirmed that the creature in the water was a Gar fish, not an eel. It was pretty funny to see Brett pop out of the water like he did because of an eel.

The second night there, Butch invited us to lasagna with the kids and adults. After dinner, we rowed the dinghy to the store/restaurant/fuel dock/bar. We strolled around a few times and settled on some Breyer’s chocolate ice cream. What a treat to sit on our boat, eating chocolate ice cream before it melted completely away. I didn’t use to like ice cream till I met Brett. He introduced me to Baskin Robins and now we both are ice cream fanatics. We sat in the salon and savored every bite.

I got up early the third day and discovered the internet on so I spent most the day updating the blog. Barry’s girlfriend got on the phone with me in the morning and she ordered some of my jewelry. Then Butch also ordered jewelry for his wife. It was so nice to have people look at my jewelry and enjoy it. We needed the money desperately, too.

We spent the rest of the day, relaxing. I made jewelry while we watched movies. It was very hot and nice to stay inside the cooler boat. We rowed back to the restaurant/grocery store/fuel dock for more of the delicious fried chicken we’d had a couple days before.

DAY 15 and 16: 07/27/2008, 07/28/2008
CYPREMORT YACHT CLUB TO MORGAN CITY
We got up, not so early, and planned our day for leaving. I listened to the weather report and discovered a heat advisory for our area. The waves were cresting and it was windy, too, out in the bay. After tossing the decision back and forth to leave, we decided to head out. We didn’t want to wear out our welcome and the weather was to only get worse throughout the week. We headed out into the choppy bay, both of us scared of the rolling waves crashing through the narrow channel. But Brett, once again, drove us expertly out of the channel and we rolled and pitched toward the markers.
I ran around lashing things down. Benny got sick right away and then went to sleep. I took every remedy I had that was natural and non-drowsy as I plotted our course. It was a sunny day but the waves were rolling. The boat performed beautifully over the ways, surfing her way toward her destination. We didn’t have to fight the wheel to keep her on course and she glided through the waves. With her narrow bow, she glided through the waves rather than pound through them. It was the most wave action I had been through with her. After awhile, I even took the helm. At first, I had to be careful about overcorrection. I had to steer toward the waves so they didn’t roll us off course. Soon, it was easy to get into a rhythm. I always am reminded of how thankful I was of the practice I had had in Matagorda Bay on Eddie’s boat an Charl’s boat. The experiences on their boat built my confidence and I wasn’t scared to steer our boat through these small waves.

As soon as we neared the waterway, I called Mom and Sue to let them know where we were at. I text Charl and Travis as well. It got hot quickly. We motored down the waterway, anxious about our approach of Wax Fall Outlet at the “The Jaws”. We were told the currents here were brutal. I announced our crossing to ensure no other barge traffic was coming through while we were.
The boat continued Eastbound with little resistance by any current. We made it through easily and without any problem. Brett breathed a sigh of relief. He had expected us to be pulled out into the shallow entrance of the Vermillion Bay through “The Jaws”.

We continued on, enjoying the beautiful scenery around us. The trees were so gorgeous. But trees also meant floating logs so we had to keep a watch for any debris in the water.
We approached the area I was so nervous about. There were radio checkpoints between mile 102 and mile 92. I had to coordinate with the Berwick traffic on where we were. We called way too early but everything went smoothly. Brett assured me that even if I was a little off on when to call, it wouldn’t be a problem. They just wanted to know where we were at for traffic purposes. They were extremely nice and helpful and helped guide us into the marina city docks.
At the second checkpoint, the Berwick traffic operator asked me over and over to spell the name of our boat. “B, as in boy, E, N, as in Nancy, E, V, as in victor, O, L, E, N, as in nancy, C, E” I slowly spelled out for him. I started to mess it up as I spelled slower.

Brett and I disagreed on where the marina was, so I called the marina and asked them directions. It was where I thought it was. Brett was wrong again with navigation. It was so nice that navigation fit me. He could steer and be captain and I could be the navigator. We made a good team.

The Berwick traffic operator asked me all about our boat and where we were from and headed. He was very nice and talkative. Finally, a towboat captain interrupted to remind the operator to get back to work.

As we approached the railroad bridge, I called the operator again and he gave us detailed instructions on how to get to the docks. He asked us (me) how long we were staying in Morgan City. I told him two days. There was a pause and he glumly said, “Oh , okay. Enjoy your stay in Morgan City.“ It was funny. It was like he had hoped we would stay in his city and enjoy things longer.

We were approved to go under the train bridge to the docks. We paralleled parked between two shrimp boats. The pilings were huge and there were no cleats. With some work. We got our boat secured. We had traveled almost eleven hours and approximately forty to fifty miles. The miles logged meter was in discrepancy.

The wakes proved to be bumpy ever half hour or so at our dock. We walked down to the box to drop our payment off and noticed that the pleasure craft docks were further up the docks and had cleats. Oops. It was late so we ate eggs and bacon while I called Mom.
The next day, we both had trouble getting up. The rolling waves from wakes and the river kept us up a lot of the night. It was to be another record breaking hot day. We slogged around, trying to get energy to do anything and go anywhere. We finally meandered to the hardware store, just on the other side of the seawall.

We decided to stay one more day to give Benny a break from the hot weather. I was relieved as I was extremely tired. I worked on the blog throughout the day. Brett and I walked to the nearby restaurant and had lunch. Then we walked to the main street and found a gas station with cigarettes, chocolate and water.

We went back to the boat and both took naps. It was a slow, relaxed day after the long day we’d had before. In the evening, we walked around the historical part of town, trying to find another restaurant to eat at that was open. The only one open was near the boat and looked very fancy so we headed back to the main street to a fried chicken shack.

We could tell that Morgan City was trying hard to pick up the tourism. They looked seedy from the docks, but crime was actually very low. Just outside the seawall, there were beautiful historical buildings and houses.

DAY 17: (07/29/08)
MORGAN CITY TO HOUMA
We got up early to start out in cool weather. We had to make a bridge at a certain time, too. I got Brett up and we prepped the boat to leave. I called the Berwick Traffic to announce our departure. He said a barge was coming through Southbound and we were to fall in behind him through the railroad bridge.

It was perfect timing, so we followed the barge and then headed East as the barge continued South. We quickly passed our checkpoints and made it the Bayou Boeff (buff) locks. We entered the locks behind a large barge without waiting. We coasted through the locks with no problem and continued to head East. The day was perfect so far. Our obstacles went smoothly. The day was clouded over and cool. Brett had made a good decision to wait until the next day to leave Morgan City. We knew we had a long day. Brett increased the boat’s speed to over 6 knots. We hadn’t run the engine that hard since we left. It seemed to like that speed. The vibration lessened and the engine was actually cooler. We surged along the beautiful scenery. I organized the nav table cabinet and then came out to steer. Cypress trees, with their “knees” just above the water surrounded us. The water turned a beautiful green. It was lovely. I took all kinds of pictures.

We had a barge in front of us after the locks and it took awhile to pass him. He wouldn’t answer our radio calls even though other barges notified him of our attempts. We finally blew our horn twice (passing on the two whistle) and proceeded to his port side to pass. As we begun to pass the towboat, he called us and asked us if we’d like him to slow down. I said that that would be great and he politely slowed down and asked about where we were from and where we were going. Butch had said that if you don’t say their name right, sometimes they won’t answer but I had heard other barges call him with the same name. But he was very nice and we will never know why he didn’t respond to our calls.

After a few hours, I began to notice that the batteries were still low. I switched the Perko switch to ALL to try and charge both. We turned the inverter on so we could run the computer. The chart program we’d loaded on here before we left was all we had to guide us down this part of the waterway so it was imperative to have the computer on.

Pretty soon, I heard an alarm. I was steering so I had Brett go below and we found the inverter alarm on. It confirmed that are batteries were indeed low, even with the four hours of running the engine. Brett said he thought it was because of everything we’d been running but I disagreed. We weren’t running anything more than we usually do when the batteries stayed at thirteen on the voltmeter The voltmeter was reading 11.9 now.
We turned everything but the computer off but the batteries remained low. We knew there was a problem somewhere but would deal with it when we docked.
We continued down the beautiful waterway, enjoying the cool weather and scenery.
We soon approached the Houma bridge, two hours earlier than predicted. Our faster pace had benefited our timing with the bridge’s rush hour. After a short wait, we were able to get through and on to Houma.

The narrow channel lead through town. It was heavenly to see manicured lawns and flowers again. And green water instead of brown.

We approached the twin bridges that the marina sat under and saw a barge headed toward us. We called him and told him we’d wait till he passed before making our approach to the marina. We pulled up and slid into our slip. It was still a beautiful day and everything had gone smooth. I called Mom to let her know we’d gotten there.
After setting us up and pumping out the very full holding tank, I set off on the bike to town. It looked safe here. I was anxious to see the shops nearby, scope out the coffee zone where there was internet and check out the post office to see if I’d gotten my jewelry package mailed here yet.

The rain had soaked my bike’s seat and my short were soon drenched on the bottom. When I arrived at the post office, I tied my jacket around my waist to cover the wet spot. I mailed out some letters and jewelry. My jewelry order had arrived already. I had not brought ID but she gave it to me anyway since my name was on the envelopes I was mailing. I headed back down the other way toward Main street. I discovered a Chinese restaurant. We hadn’t had Chinese in months! I discovered the Coffee Zone which closed at four o’clock and many other neat shops on my way back to the boat. The hospital was across the marina, too. I found many medical centers along my route. This would have been an excellent source of work for me. I felt at home instantly in this town. It seemed about the size of Springfield and felt much safer than the other towns we’d been in. But the marina was for short term only and it would be hard for Brett to find work here.

I spent the rest of the day napping and reading my book. At dinner, we shut up the boat and walked back to the Chinese restaurant so Brett could look around, too. The food was excellent and it was a really nice looking restaurant. The prices weren’t too bad. I actually relearned how to use chop sticks. I hadn’t used chop sticks since I was a little girl.

We spent the evening studying our books. We decided to watch a science fiction movie, called, “Virus”. I had forgotten what a bad script they had. It was on ships and it was about electric aliens taking over a ship and the crew being built into robots. It had me anxious so I asked to watch a different movie so I didn’t dream about Virus. So I found the perfect one. “Short Circuit”. LOL. Perfect sequel to VIRUS.
We both fell asleep during Short Circuit. We slept well for a change.

And now we are caught up!

Thanks for sharing our adventure with us. I would love any emails and I’ll get on the internet when I can.
Love- Kyla (and Brett)

Finally! Internet!

Wow- It's been a long haul without internet. We've had an adventure already. I am writing everything in more detail for a book later on so I won't make the blogs too long.... I'll try to sum up each day for you until I get caught up...

(OKAY- I just started writing and it's long. Sorry. Lots to tell. You know how I am) :)

As you can see, Benny has finally found his comfort spot.

He's doing much better after that first day.

Day 2: MATAGORDA TO SARGENT... FREEPORT..

We left Matagorda and headed toward Sargent for a short journey before resting to do projects. We'd read that it was a good place to tie up for free. Shortly upon leaving Matagorda, Brett decided to take us on a detour straight for a mooring buoy! These things were eigh feet in diameter, solid concrete! They were built to keep barges moored up. He had been watching the gears. I glanced up and saw him close. He turned it hard to port and we narrowly missed the buoy. I glared at him. I was angry at the thought of what would happen to us if he'd hit that concrete buoy with us doing 5 knots! After awhile we joked about it.

"How would we explain THAT to Boat U.S.!" I laughed. Brett was notorious for wandering at the wheel.

We put up the sail for two hours. It was great to not have the engine on.









When we reached Sargent, the tie up area was too shallow for our 5'8" draft. So we headed down the waterway toward Freeport. We figured we'd have just enough time to make it before dark. Going through the Sargent bridge was easy and we meandered toward Freeport. Everything was great. We checked out the San Bernard river for anchorage but decided to wait for my first anchorage. We wanted a protected bay without a current to possibly drag us into the Gulf. LOL Crossing the Brazos River locks was interesting. The current pulled us toward the river toward a barge that was lining up in front of us. Brett had to struggle to keep us off the barge. After the river, we ran into heavy barge traffic. After the locks, our barge had slowed to 1.9 knots so we politely requested permission to pass. He let us pass without a problem.
We crossed under the first Freeport bridge- My first bridge on a boat. It was exhilarating. After the bridge, we caught up to another tug. We were worried that we'd not make Freeport before dark. We asked to pass and he said we could after a turn, but as we passed between him and a tug that was sideways, the large barge sped up, making it impossible to pass him. We fell back behind and followed his prop wash for an hour. We finally reached the harbor just before dark. We grounded getting up to the transient dock. The tide was extremely low. We discovered that only 50amp power was available at the slip we pulled up to. The security guard had come over and was helping us move the boat. So we shimmied the boat through the mud back to a different slip. LeRoy was very nice and we chatted with him for a long time. I was worn out from the stress of the barge traffic and the grounding. We ordered pizza that took forever to get there and called it a night.
















DAY 3: FREEPORT TO OFFETS BAYOU, GALVESTON, TEXAS
We got up the next morning and paid our $1.50/foot fee for the night. Then we walked over to West Marine to pick up Galveston Bay charts. We tried to find the current Skipper Bob book but West Marine didn't have it. We headed out of Freeport. It was a quiet ride, I even took a nap!
Approaching Galveston, we came across thousands of brown pelicans nesting along the jetties. It was incredible! As we came upon the narrow intersection of channels, before the Galveston Causeway bridge, I came back from taking pictures of the pelicans on the deck. I sat down and smelled something burning. "Brett. Do you smell something burning?" He frantically ran downstairs as I took over steering. He gingerly opened the engine room door and steam flowed through the crack. I shut off the engine and we spun around in the narrow channel, our bow being thrown over by the 15 knot winds. I started to panic, seeing us crippled in the middle of the ship channel with only a few feet of water on each side.
I asked Brett if we should throw up a sail. He said to just keep us in the channel. I steered the boat the rest of the way into the channel, back to where we had just come from. It kept us in the channel as he feverishly worked away at the radiator. He had me start the engine and veer back to our destination. He took over steering while I preceded to pour gallon after gallon of fresh water into our radiator. It was a hot, sweaty job with the engine running near 200 degrees. For an hour and a half, we poured all of our freshwater into the radiator, approximately thirty three gallons.
Just as we'd run out of water, we reached the bay and were able to throw up the sail in front of Moody Gardens. We tacked toward the SouthEast part of the bayou. As I steered, Brett chose a spot to anchor and we dropped anchor under sail. Not bad for my first anchoring! We secured everything and Brett went into the engine compartment to take a look.
Another thing Brett is famous for. Not tightening fittings and forgetting to solder plumbing pipes. LOL. He had forgotten to retighten the hose clamp for the radiator hose after checking it. It had shimmied loose with the vibration of the engine. We spent the night quietly anchored near another boat that looked like it was there for awhile.

DAY 4: OFFETS BAYOU, GALVESTON
The next day, Brett explored the marina and other anchored boat with our dinghy and then we headed toward Ray's Bayou Bar and Marina for the night, about a hundred yards from where we were anchored.











We spent the day running errands on the bike. Walmart was only a couple miles away and AutoZone, Boaters World and West Marine were also close by. Brett spent the day working on the engine, replacing hoses and buying spares while I made purchases from store to store. Our GPS had decided to quit on our first day so I picked up a cheap, $100 model at Walmart. It didn't have the navigation aids on it like our Garmin Map76S did but it would work. I rode my bike across the hairy roads to West Marine. The lady there was super nice and offered me tons of advice for anchoring and mooring. She had gone down the ICW three years earlier. I bought a log book (proven useless) and the August Issue of Lattitudes and Attitudes magazine. (Couldn't live without it!).







That evening, I washed all the laundry at the RV park and surfed through my email. We had a nice dinner at the restaurant we'd parked next to. We discovered that the fuel docks did not have diesel. So Brett and I walked to Walmart at 9 o'clock and bought two more diesel cans. We returned in the evening and intensely studied the Galveston Bay chart.

DAY 5: OFFETS BAYOU, GALVESTON TO STINGAREE MARINA, CRYSTAL BEACH






In the morning he rowed over to the gas station and bought three five gallon cans of diesel. We were surprised to see we'd only used eleven gallons of diesel on our first leg. I scrambled back to the laundry room to wrap up last minute bills online and then we headed out.














The Galveston Bay crossing ended up going very smoothly.


We called the Stingaree Marina to see if they had space. Many people had told us that it was burnt down and not reopened. I called the marina and someone answered. They said they did have the open slip available so we made our way to Stingaree. I was excited because we had a lot of people tell us it was a great place. Before we knew it, we were sliding into a channel, marked as Stingaree. The channel shallowed to just under six feet and we slid through the mud to get in. It seemed very narrow. There were sailboats and RVs and a large building just as the Stingaree Marina was claimed to be. But no one was around and there was no slip available next to the other sailboats. It was extremely shallow and narrow.

I called Stingaree Marina and apparantely the chart had the wrong cut marked as Stingaree. We headed two miles East and finally found them. The owner, Jim, caught our lines and gave us a grand welcome. He was extremely pleasant and helpful, accomodating. We met several people as we sat in front of our boat at the bait shop's picnic tables. One family even asked to see my jewelry and bought a lot of it, right off the boat at a bait shop. It was wonderful! They were such nice people who really seemed interested in our adventure! We met another family immediately after they had left who also found our story fascinating.


Brett and I immediately fell in love with this little place. We lounged around, talking with people. Jim's thirty seven foot Fisher was the only other sailboat there on the tiny dock next to the shop. We ate at the Stingaree restaurant (that had been rebuilt immediately after a section of it had burned). Excellent food. We strolled around the park during sunset. It was beautiful.





DAY 6: STINGAREE MARINA TO TAYLOR OUTFALL BAYOU
We headed toward Taylor Outfall Bayou for anchorage the next night. On our way, I attempted to use the Skipper Bob book that Carol and George gave us. I had tried to get us into several anchorages but none panned out. I tried again just before the Taylor Outfall Bayou but struck out again. I was following the mile markers in the book and didn't understand why it wasn't working. Brett suggested the mile markers were for a different part of the waterway. I told him he was silly but read the contents in detail. It was for the EAST coast not the GULF coast. Oh how stupid I felt!!! I apologized profusely to Brett.
We turned into Taylor Outfall Bayou. There were already four barges anchored for the night. I suggested another canal that branched off the Taylor Outfall Bayou just a little ways up on the West Side. As we glided through the calm waters, we came upon the canal with a trawler anchored just inside it's mouth. We gladly swung West of the trawler and also placed our anchor. It didn't grab tightly, so Brett had me reverse the engine and we dug it in tight.
It was a gorgeous evening. I had enough energy to whip up a new meal with our canned stores. It took forever to cook but was delicious. Boiled/fried red potatoes, corned beef and canned mushrooms all sauteed together with some Johnny's seasoning. YUM!
We spent the evening surveying for alligators. This channel had run into a wildlife preserve where there was supposed to be alligators and birds everywhere. And of course, giant sized salt marsh mosquitos. We found those.



DAY 7: TAYLOR OUTFALL BAYOU TO ADAMS BAYOU-SABINE YACHT BASIN
At around midnight, our inverter alarm went off, waking us both up in a frenzy. At four thirty in the morning, I heard rain start to tap our deck. I raced around, opening our mosquito nets to close the hatches. Brett woke up and helped me secure everything from the rain. The wind had picked up and the squall surged by us.
I stepped outside to put things away in the cockpit. As I looked up, I saw the ghostly creature in the water. "Brett," I whispered. "there's an alligator near our boat!"
He jumped outside with me and we gawked through the binocculars. Our boat had "swung on the anchor" but we held tight, our stern now near the crab pot and reeds. We heard a noise behind us. Brett pointed. " See them, our neighbor's anchor didn't hold. They are in the reeds, trying to motor out!"

They hollered and revved their engines until they freed themselves. Without missing a beat, they disappeared in the darkness. Apparantley they had been too embarrassed to "hang" around anymore.








We watched the alligator for about an hour, feeding it lots of bread. I crawled back into my berth as Brett declared that we should get an early start. Ugh. After convincing him to make coffee, I peeled myself up out of bed and got ready for us to leave at daylight, six a.m.

It would be a shorter run today and I was glad to possibly have a few days rest at Sabine Yacht Basin. It sounded perfect. It was a marina up a canal with restrooms, showers, grocery store, ships store nearby. I felt sure they had internet by the sounds of it. As we glided down the waterway, I tried to call them on both phone lines. No answer on either one. We passed through the northern edge of Sabine Lake. We tried to sail but the wind just wouldn't cooperate. We soon made it to the junction and headed down Adams Bayou which outlined the Lousiana/Texas border. It was amazing the drastic change of scenery almost right at the border. Beautiful green trees and plants danced over the edge of the waterway.

As we headed up the canal, we approached the basin. Introducing it was a large steel sailboat, half sunk in the entrance with a rusty messed up sailboat in front of it. The beautiful building had plywood over the doorways. As we coasted slowly by the eerie scene, more torn up sailboats and power boats emerged from the trees. It was completely abandoned... We slowly made our way toward the end of the channel at a fifteen foot bridge. We started to turn into the last cut but were told it was too shallow. There was a larger sailboat tied to the end of a dock next to a derelict sailboat and shrimpboat. There was a small space between the boats into land. The gentleman hollered at us to tie up to his sailboat, that it was eight feet. So we pulled next to him. He offered his electricity as he didn't stay on the boat, he was just repairing it. The marina, River Rats, was next door. It was a pitstop for the pipeline workers.
The owner of the marina scurried over and discussd us with our new friend, Wayne, about the electricity. Their arguement was polite and low key. Very southern. The politeness and laid back demeanor of the southerners blows me away. The saying, "Southern Hospitality" truly stands, even today. After assuring the owner that we were there only for one night, he agreed to us hooking up. He had been worried that we'd use too much power and the pipeline workers' trailers would not have enough juice to run their air conditioners. But we plugged ours in and everything worked good so he gladly let us stay and had us meet up with him at his bait shop. He was very pleasant at the bait shop and was glad to hear our story.

Brett trying to summon our Adams Bayou alligator.

Wayne left us but came back later to finish his fiberglass work. We chatted with him awhile. We found out he didn't actually own the boat, he was taking care of it for someone. He lent us a chart off the boat he was looking after. After studying it in the evening, I returned it to the nav station of the forty eight foot Mariner. I couldn't believe the room and layout inside the center cockpit boat!! I loved it. It even had a bathtub! It was run down but beautiful.

We walked to the gas station of the little town and found me a razor and some hot dogs.

DAY 8: ADAMS BAYOU TO BOW TIE MARINA, LAKE CHARLES, LA

Brett had studied the charts and decided for us to take a twelve mile detour up the Calcasiu River to stay near Lake Charles. The book had said it was an anchoring mecca. The Bow Tie Marina had all the amenities we needed.


We tried and tried to call the Ellender Bridge. It was only fifty feet high so we had to have them raise it. We were told that this took 4-24 hours for us to have done but as we approached closer and closer, we couldn't reach either the Black Bayou bridge or Ellender bridge on Channel 13 and 14 of the radio. It was extremely frustating. Five miles before the bridge, a tow boat captain finally had contacted the bridge. They had us change to channel 12! The book had been wrong. We had left early, expecting at least a 4 hour delay but after telling them we had an hour to go before we reached the bridge, they arranged with us to pass when we arrived! We ended up behind a backup of barges trying to turn a huge corner just before the bridge. But we made it at exactly and hour and the bridge opened right up with almost no delay. It was pleasant to not have to wait in all the barge traffic we were experiencing.

We had run out of paper chart after Adams Bayou and flipped on my computer with the free downloaded charts that Bill had told us about. Thank God. It helped us immensely as we wound our way up the Calcasieu River. There was a ton of ship and tanker traffic. We finally reached Contraband Bayou. As we made our approach, a tanker asked "the sailboat to do their business on channel 13". So, thinking he was talking to us, flipped to channel 13 and listened. He directed us to turn to port and wait at the docks till he was done backing up. I fumbled with our location. We ended up having tow boats yell at us to get out of the way even though we had swung to port. There were no docks. Finally, Brett grabbed the radio and asked them to confirm which sailboat they were talking too. After much confusion, it was discovered that we weren't the sailboat that they were yelling at. The other sailboat never did say a word.


By then my nerves were shot, as we coasted into Bow Tie Marina. The bayou was breathtaking with stumps and trees and calm green water. Such a difference from the Calcasieus River with all it's traffic. I called the Bow Tie Marina and they had a slip for us. When we glided in, they took our lines and tied us up. They treated us like royalty as they filled our diesel tank, lent us an adapter for our 30 amp cord to plug into 50 amp service and helped us pump out the holding tank. They wouldn't hardly let me touch the lines. It was funny and I kind of giggled at the outstanding service the boys and the gentleman were giving. I read the sign more closely and it said Bow Tie Marina. Valet marina. This is what they did. We paid for our night and attempted to cool the boat down. It was 105 degrees outside! Benny had been doing really well but he was hot today. So we decided to try and head to a Walmart and see if we could get a better a/c than the portable one we were using.

The taxi cost $34 round trip to travel 5 miles. Everyone had said not to even ride our bikes down the street the marina was on. Too dangerous. So we were trapped. We paid the taxi and discovered that none of the air conditioners would run off our inverter. Bummed, we bought some groceries and went back to the marina.


It did eventually cool down that night. We decided to stay an extra night to rest up.

















Brett is actually on a computer! He's looking at charts with Benny.













DAY 9: BOW TIE MARINA, LAKE CHARLES, LA



I awoke early and washed the deck before it got too hot. I then spent the day making clay jewelry and regular jewelry while Brett relaxed in the cockpit. There was no internet here either, so I was doing without yet again. In the afternoon, we flipped on the weather report to prepare for our next LONG leg. All of a sudden, we're hearing hurricane reports! The hurricane was to hit by Brownsville and reach all the way to Port O'Connor which is near Palacios. There was to be 15-25 knot winds and flooding here in Louisiana. We rushed to the office to see if they had more detail. They didn't. We asked to stay a few more days till the hurricane passed Texas so we wouldn't be out in high winds and rain here in Louisiana. They didn't have room so we had to continue East the next day.





































More updates to come.... I'm running a little behind...

DAY 10 (BOW TIE MARINA - TALENS FUEL DOCK)

DAY 11 (TALENS FUEL DOCK - SHELL MORGAN LANDING)

DAY 12 (SHELL MORGAN LANDING - CYPREMORT YACHT CLUB)

DAY 13 (CYPREMORT YACHT CLUB)

DAY 14 (CYPREMORT YACHT CLUB)





I amnervous about the Harvey Locks coming up in New Orleans. But I am hoping we can spend a few days in Houma, LA first. I think there is a place to do laundry, shop and have internet at a coffee shop. We'll see. I am also hoping to get a little mail while there via General Delivery but it was short notice to get stuff to me.

We're doing good, though. Everyone we've run into has been generous and friendly. It's been hard, it always is for cruisers the first few hundred miles as they smooth out the wrinkles. If this was easy, everyone would be doing it. It just involves patience and flexibility.

Our friends, Tom and Sue came here on their trawler from Florida. They did the same route. They had similar problems on their way. When they reached Palacios, they, too, thought about selling the boat. But when they took a step back and went back to their old lives, they realized that were living the dream to experience life by boat. These friends have been my motivators in many ways. When I left for Oregon last year, I saw that they did had parted ways for a few months to make their dream work so I figured I and Brett could do it too. It was harder than heck, but we did it.

Thanks for following our adventure. Sorry I'm still not current, but I am trying to catch up.

Believe it or not, my book I am writing is much more detailed!

Keep in touch. Miss everyone terribly...

Kyla (and Brett)