As if as an omen of things to come, thick fog greeted us when we awoke on September 20th, the day we were to enter the mighty Mississippi River.
The day before, when we completed our trip down the Illinois River and pulled in to Grafton Harbor, we could actually see the confluence of the two rivers from our slip. But now, we could see only as far as the fuel dock, just a few feet away from us.
Luckily, our destination that day was only 15 miles away, so we just waited until the fog lifted around 10:00 a.m., said farewell to Grafton, and were on our way.
Just ahead of us, through the slight mist still rising from the water, we could clearly see the buoy marking the junction with the Mississippi River.
As we approached it, we weren’t exactly sure what to expect, since this river is infamous for its strong current, averaging around 4 mph. But, I think we actually thought we would be swept away downriver immediately upon entering the channel. This did not happen; rather, it was a more gradual change in our speed that registered on our speedometer.
What we did notice, however, was the change of scenery as soon as we entered the Mississippi. We were now cruising along a national scenic byway called “The Great River Road,” with beautiful high bluffs flanking the Illinois side of the river.
Our other expectation was that, as soon as we entered the Mississippi, we would have to deal with numerous towboats pushing massive loads of up to 35 barges. On this, our first short day traveling on the Mississippi, we encountered only a few smaller ones, which presented no serious navigation issues.
By noon, as we passed the huge and garish-looking Argosy Casino, we knew we had arrived at Alton, IL, and were approaching our destination, Alton Marina.
Alton is famous for being the site of the final Lincoln-Douglas Debate in 1858. We lost no time in walking downtown to the corner of Broadway and Market to see the lifelike statues depicting this important event in our country’s history. (Who is that guy mugging for the camera, anyway?)
When we awoke on the morning of September 22nd, it was cloudy and threatening rain, but we were anxious to be on our way because the forecast for the next few days didn’t look any better. So, we called the Mel Price Lock, visible from our marina, to make sure they were ready for us, and off we went, destination: Hoppie’s Marina, about 45 miles away. For those of us cruising down this portion of the Upper Mississippi River, headed for the junction with the Ohio River, there are precious few places for pleasure craft to stop along the way. Hoppie’s Marina was the one and only choice available for our next stop, and it would be the last available marina for the next 228 miles after that. But before we started worrying about that, we had to get to Hoppie’s first.
Just a few miles after the Mel Price Lock, the Missouri River joined the Mississippi, kicking up our speed a bit more and adding some turbulence, especially as we approached the Chain of Rocks Canal, a passage which allows boats to avoid rapids on the main river channel. Just one more lock, and we were back in the river again, approaching St. Louis.
Unfortunately, there is no place where pleasure craft can stop in St. Louis, so we had to just take in the sights quickly as we passed by, the strong downriver current allowing only a brief moment’s glimpse of the famous arch.
By now, it was beginning to drizzle. Then the temperature dropped and the light drizzle turned to rain. As the visibility ahead decreased, the amount of floating debris, including tree branches, increased, so we didn’t dare close our strataglass windows on the flying bridge, for fear that we would hit a log. As a result, we were cold, wet, and miserable as we finally approached Hoppie’s Marina around noon. Following instructions provided by Fern Hopkins over the VHF radio, we swung the boat around and headed up into the current to ease into the dock, where both Fern and her husband, Hoppie, both 80 somethings, braved the downpour to catch and secure our lines. Never were we so glad to see a marina in our entire cruising lives, even this ugly duckling consisting of three 100 foot barges tied together with cables.
Fern is famous among the Looper community, and true to form, at 4:30 sharp she conducted her daily briefing for all of us tied to her docks overnight, sharing her wealth of knowledge about cruising conditions on the route ahead, providing extremely helpful and important tips about where we could anchor safely, and even more importantly, unsafe spots to avoid. That evening as the sun set and we pondered the information we had gleaned from Fern, we took note of the beautiful sunset and sincerely hoped that the old sailor’s proverb would hold true: “Red at night, sailor’s delight!”
And indeed, the following day, after early morning fog lifted, turned out to be fine for cruising. So, off we went, peeling off from the dock into the current, then swinging around and allowing the Mississippi to take us downriver again.
Following Fern’s advice, we, along with nine other Looper boats, traveled 41 miles to the junction with the Kaskaskia River and tied up for the night on the outside of the Kaskaskia Lock wall, first calling the lock tender to ask for permission. Not only did he grant our request, but he also graciously came down to the wall to catch our lines and help us tie up.
With no place to go and nothing to do, we decided to sponsor a group happy hour on the lock wall, so we set up a table and some chairs, and everyone brought drinks and snacks to share. This, of course, prompted the rain gods to interfere once again, and we had to quickly move everything and everybody aboard the Docker’s Inn to keep dry. No matter, a good time was had by all, and we went to bed that night feeling quite satisfied.
Another dawn on the Mississippi brought more fog, but by 8:30 it had lifted, and we were on our way again, part of a convoy of ten boats: Docker’s Inn, Sonata, Oceanus, Salty Paws, Rock Chalk, Visitor, Last Chance, Last Dance, Confetti, and Erika Lin. This time we were headed for an anchorage 68 miles away at Little Diversion Channel, hoping that we would all be able to squeeze in, because there really wasn’t anywhere else to go within a reasonable day’s cruise. Although the entry to this channel was very tricky, forcing us to first pass it, then swing up into the current, speed up and crab our way sideways toward it, once we were in and anchored, it was a beautiful spot.
The scary part, however, was that rain was predicted for overnight, and this channel was prone to flash floods after heavy rain. Although it did rain most of the night, we were spared any flash floods or strong currents. However, by morning thunderstorms had developed, and the weather forecast called for more storms throughout the day, so we knew we couldn’t risk staying there.
Thus began one very long, very miserable day of cruising.
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