The Voyages of Nine Lives

September 29th to October 7th, Clarksville to Pickwick Lake

Our Clarksville docktails evening with Gina and Roger from Two Hull-Areas and Cathy and Mark from Dock Holiday was most enjoyable. As always, we hope to meet them again some day on the water or in Hilton Head.

The next morning was very foggy, and all the spider webs were covered with dewdrops, making them easy to see and brush away! We had a chance for a chat with both Gina and Roger before we left. Roger helped us with a recalcitrant pump out machine, and with casting off.

Dewdrops on the spider webs in the early morning

The river was extremely muddy after the heavy rain of the previous day. Also, there was a huge amount of debris, including whole trees. We concluded that the Cheatham Dam had done another clearing of debris, there was far too much to be the result of one rainstorm, especially at winter pool.

As you move carefully through a debris field, and hear a loud CRACK, you think you have hit a tree. Instead, in these waters, it is most likely to be a jumping silver carp. They are extremely large, and are apparently easily frightened by the noise from boat engines, so they leap out of the water, often hitting the hull. This added to the excitement of transiting through the debris, as we have not seen or heard many carp for the last couple of years. Perhaps the muddy water makes them more nervous than usual.

Bluffs on the Cumberland River north of Clarksville

Just north of Dover, we saw beef cattle down by the water. Dick tells me that some of them looked like a Hereford Angus cross. He said they were definitely not purebreds, but for all that, he is sure they taste good!

We passed Baccalieu II making their way up the Cumberland to Nashville. We were seeing a lot more Loopers in the general area, gradually gathering and waiting to join the main pack that was still stuck in Lake Michigan, waiting for 3 locks on the Illinois River to finish repairs. This will be a tough autumn for most 2023 Loopers. The lock closures meant that they could not get off the Great Lakes as early many would prefer. There are going to be about 300 Looper boats heading down the Illinois starting from October 6^th. The AGLCA has arranged flotillas, and negotiated with the Army Corps of Engineers who manage the locks, to pass through the Loopers in groups. There will be many tows waiting, and if everybody tried to just show up, it would be chaotic, not to mention hours of waiting. Once they are off the Illinois River, the next challenge will come from the very low water in the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. We experienced this last year, and this year is just as bad, in fact worse in some areas. Dredging operations are requiring a 12-hour one way system on the Ohio River. Some of the popular anchorages are silted up and unavailable, and even in Paducah there will be a shutdown of electricity to the dock, while repairs are being made at a nearby substation. Paducah is an important fuel stop for many Loopers, as it is a long distance for some boats to travel from the fuel stop on the Mississippi just south of St Louis, so the timing of the repairs is unfortunate. It’s all part of the adventure, but I am happy that we don’t have to participate in this one!

We arrived at Lake Barkley Marina just before 5pm. We had to approach very slowly, first because the route from the Cumberland River is long and complicated, and it is extremely shallow outside the marked channel. Then, there was so much debris in the marina itself, including large logs, that we had no choice but to run into them and push them aside. Local boaters came over to help us get into the slip. I had done most of the preparation during the day, so it was fairly quick to prepare our favourite shrimp sandwiches for supper. The facilities were at least ¼ mile from our assigned slip, making them impractical to use. Between that and the debris, we did not find the marina very enjoyable, and we would not return.

A conifer with exposed roots on Lake Barkley

The next day, as we made our way towards Green Turtle Bay, we met another Looper heading south. It was not the nicest experience. The boat was a go-fast motor yacht with a planing hull, but the driver obviously has no concept of how to drive, both for the best fuel efficiency, and for the consideration of other boaters. He had the prow up high, and, as Dick put it, his ass way down in the water, creating a huge wake that continued to bounce us up and down for over a mile due to the resonance set up in the calm water. We could see that the people on board studied us through binoculars, but they neither slowed down nor hailed fellow Loopers. We were too disgusted at the inconsiderate driving to hail them. We later realized that we had in fact met them earlier, they made a point of introducing themselves and giving us their boat card. Strange behaviour.

Lake Barkley, pelicans and a golf course

We were tied up in Green Turtle Bay by 12:30. This was our 5^th and last visit to a favourite marina.

In late afternoon we wandered down the dock to chat with other Loopers, and found ourselves sitting on one boat with a group of 6 others, sharing stories and snacks. Later, Dick and I went up to the Yacht Club dining room, shortly joined by Cheri and Pete from Spring Fling, who we had met in Clarksville. Service was chaotic, with long waits for bar service, and then all the food, starters, salads, and main courses, arrived together. The food was good and the company convivial, so we did not mind.

It was an easy day’s run to Paris Landing State Park the next day. We passed a Coast Guard vessel with red and green ATONs in the morning. ATON stands for Aid TO Navigation, and are either green, with a flat top (called cans), or red, with a cone shaped top (called nuns). While there are ATONs on most waterways, those on lakes created by flooded rivers are critically important for both commercial and pleasure traffic. The original river bed will wind back and forth, and only that area is kept dredged to allow passage for tows and larger pleasure craft. Tows occasionally run the ATONs over, and storms, or large debris may also pull them off-station, so the Coast Guard must continually check and adjust positions or add new ones.

Coast Guard vessel with ATONS near Kentucky Dam

The lake is pretty enough, and the channel winds back and forth, but you are usually a long way away from shore, so it is quite a boring day. We were passing the Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area, a large reserve between the Tennessee and the Cumberland Rivers. The Tennessee River was made into a lake by the Tennessee Valley Authority, to create hydroelectric power in the 1930’s. Barkley Lake was created on the Cumberland River by the construction of a dam in the 1960’s. It was quite interesting to see that the trees were turning colour on the Tennessee River side, but had been mostly still green on the Cumberland River side. Although the Tennessee River is now a lake in its northern reaches, it is still called a river, and the channel follows the original winding river bed. We were tied up by 2pm. Later, two other Loopers, including Cheri and Pete also arrived. We were greeted by the local Harbor Host, who happens to keep his Endeavourcat 36 in that marina.

Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area

Dick grilled his special home-made burgers for supper. I tried an experiment and used a large English muffin instead of a more conventional bun. I will pronounce it a success, as most other buns get too soggy for my taste when they have been frozen. The burgers were trimmed with sauteed mushrooms and sauteed tomatoes, along with Vermont cheddar slices. It was a very quiet night, and we were out by 8:35 the next morning.

We had another peaceful trip up the Tennessee River to Cuba Landing Marina. Eventually the lake narrows and there is more to see, including pods of pelicans and changing colours of the trees, especially the bald cypress. The Tennessee River is now at “winter pool”, which means that the water depth has been lowered by 5 feet. This allows for winter rains and spring runoff, and helps prevent flooding. Bald cypress are a deciduous conifer, meaning that they have needles, but the needles turn yellow and red in autumn and then drop, unlike most conifers. Once they mature, they are extremely hardy and long lived, and there are some specimens over 100 feet tall, and up to 40 feet or more across. The oldest are thought to be over 2000 years old. The bald cypress that we see on the Tennessee River seem to like to have their feet in the water, and once the depth is lowered, the fascinating root system is revealed. Last year’s colours were a rich gold, while this year many of them are more reddish.

The abandoned railway viaduct at New Johnsonville

We arrived at Cuba Landing before 3pm, and had time to prepare a platter for docktails with Amy and Wes, who live on their boat in the marina. Wes is a delivery captain, and has lots of stories to tell. We enjoyed a very nice evening with a chilled bottle of local rose (and then some more wine), and all of us were surprised to discover it was past Looper Midnight!

In the morning, the dreaded “tank full” red light came on, telling us two things. First, it was obvious that our pump out in Clarksville had been incomplete, because the red light is a tank full warning for the blackwater tank, and it had only been 4 days. Our normal capacity allows us 10 days. The 2^nd thing, happily, the red warning light is still working! It failed several years ago, with unpleasant results, so it had been fixed. Until it comes on, you can never be sure it hasn’t failed again, especially if you time your pump outs, as we do, to avoid being full! After breakfast, Dick walked over to the marina office to pay, and was able to arrange for the pump out boat to come to our dock right away. We were out of the marina by 10:10, only about ½ hour later than originally planned.

Sunrise at Cuba Landing, with mist on the water

As we made our way up the Tennessee River, we were continually reminded of the extremes of weather in this area. All the houses along the riverbank are built high up on stilts, so they are protected from flooding. The river would have to rise at least 20 feet before it even touched the base of the pillars, the anticipated volume of water must be incredible. We also saw places where houses had been destroyed by tornadoes. In one place only half of the house was damaged, in another the house was trashed, and yet the neighbours on either side appeared to be unaffected. I am very glad that we did not see any violent weather events when we were underway in June and July.

Some people build right on the edge of the cliffs in spite of all evidence that says this is unwise

We anchored behind Swallow Bluff Island by 4:30. It seemed like a very long day, even though it was our normal travel hours. It was a dull day, so although the fall colours were beautiful, the light was completely flat and there were no photography opportunities as I had hoped.

We had a very quiet night, once local boaters stopped racing through the channel past us, and there was a glorious sunrise for our last morning on the water this year.

A beautiful historic house at Savannah, Tennessee

We passed Cherry Mansion, where General Ulysses S. Grant’s breakfast was interrupted by couriers with the news that the Battle of Shiloh had begun. Later we passed Shiloh National Cemetery, seen through the trees above Pittsburgh Landing. The Battle of Shiloh was fought from April 6^th to 7^th in 1862. It was one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War, with nearly 24,000 casualties. Although they won the battle, the Union army had higher casualties. Afterwards, there was much criticism of the generals on both sides. The Confederate General, Albert Sidney Johnston, lost his life during the battle. He chose to lead from the front, and sent his personal physician away to tend other casualties. He was shot in the leg and bled to death, almost certainly a preventable death. The loss of Johnston was considered by Jefferson Davis, the Confederate President, to be the main reason for the loss of the entire Western Theatre to Union forces. The site of the battle was between Pittsburgh Landing, on the Tennessee River, and a small church named Shiloh, about 3 miles inland towards Corinth. Perhaps it is ironic that Shiloh is a Hebrew word meaning “place of peace”. Union troops were gathering in the area of Pittsburgh Landing with the eventual objective of taking the town of Corinth, where the Confederate army was waiting to defend the important intersection of two railroads. The Union army outnumbered the Confederates, with more divisions on the way, so the Confederates decided to make a surprise attack, hoping to drive the Union troops off before they could consolidate their forces. It never ceased to amaze me, when I read about battles, how often they are lost through bad judgement, incompetence, and even plain cowardice on the part of the leaders.

You can just see the graves at Shiloh Cemetery through the trees above Pittsburgh Landing

Shortly after we passed the town of Satillo, Dick received an email with a picture of Nine Lives. The gentleman told us he had seen us at anchor the previous evening when he was fishing, and had watched for us from his home in Satillo. The friendliness of local people, especially in Tennessee, Kentucky, and West Virginia, was a highlight of this year’s trip.

Earlier in the day we had been bounced around by a large yacht with Florida registration, called Rock O. It had been docked behind us at Cuba Landing, and they were obviously in a big hurry to get to the lock at Pickwick. Half an hour from the lock, Dick phoned the lockmaster, and was advised that they had another pleasure craft waiting, and if we could get there within half an hour, they would lock us through at the same time. Dick speeded up. We waited about 30 minutes for the earlier tow to finish and the lock to empty. Rock O, after waking us in their hurry to arrive at the lock, will have waited about 3 hours. We both found that very satisfying! As we left the lock, the lockmaster told us to check their facebook page, as he had taken pictures. Sure enough, there were several very nice images of Nine Lives.

Nine Lives on the wall as the lock fills

We were into our slip at Aqua Yacht on Pickwick Lake by 3:30. There was just time to hastily prepare a platter for docktails, and we hosted a most enjoyable evening with platinum Loopers Robin and Charlie, harbor hosts at Aqua Yacht. I had not met them in person, although Dick has corresponded with Charlie, and was previously introduced on the docks. They have completed 2 loops, and are thinking about a 3^rd. It was great sharing stories with Robin, who has the same role when docking as I do. She is quite familiar with teenage boys and older men who will not take directions for line handling from a woman! We certainly hope to get together again in the future.

Dick had booked a haul out for first thing Friday morning. On our arrival Thursday, he made a point of walking over to the workshop to confirm, and was promised they would come to our dock between 8 and 8:30am. They did, but only to explain that the boat hauled the previous day had only a minor problem to fix, so they would do that and then after it was back in the water, it would be our turn. This rather threw out all our careful plans, so we had to begin packing, laundry, and cabin preparation ahead of when we expected.

The tech arrived shortly after 11am. We took the boat around, and I again had the dubious pleasure of being on board when it was lifted. Then came the challenge of getting off. This time I just couldn’t climb over the rail at the bow with any confidence that I was not going to fall into the (filthy) water. Fortunately, the techs were very understanding, and lowered Nine Lives again and brought a workboat around so I could get off.

Nine Lives ready to have the sponsons and the props checked

We were delighted to see that the sponsons were completely dry again this year. All that care taken to protect them with fenders pays off! The props need some work, as they are a bit dinged. They were damaged when we were aground in Huntington. On that morning, as we maneuvered to get off the wall, there were horrible grinding noises, now we know what they were. Fortunately, one of the best workshops for propellers is right in the Pickwick area, and it has been some time since ours were tuned anyway.

The first day of preparation to leave the boat we packed all the clothes and the food, and set up the beds. I put all the duvets on the big bed, along with all the pillows and throw cushions, and cover it all with the biggest duvet in a cover I don’t care about. This prevents any accidental damage to the bedlinens when workmen are aboard. On the second day the fridges and freezers are defrosted and cleaned, new clove bags prepared and distributed in the cupboards, wine and liquor packed, and the kitchen and small appliances are thoroughly cleaned, as well as the blades of all the fans. Batteries are taken out of TV remotes and small electronics, the burgee and flag are taken down and stored. We headed to the fuel dock for a last pump out to make sure the tank is completely empty against any possibility of freezing. Once that is done, it is time to drain the fresh water tanks. Dick takes off the shower heads so they don’t crack as they have in the past. He sets up a dehumidifier, two engine room heaters, and a cockpit heater, so we are not relying on the boat heating system. If there was a power failure, the boat system would drain and ruin the batteries, so it is better to have individual heaters and a dehumidifier running off mains power. One last go-round with the vacuum cleaner, roll up the carpets, and put the cockpit cushions into the salon, a final spray to discourage spiders, and we were ready to say goodbye for a year.

We were out by 4:30, both very tired, and needing a rest before the 45-minute drive to Corinth and our favourite local restaurant. Vicari’s did not disappoint, and this time we both ordered things we had not tried before. Dick had stuffed mushrooms to start, and I had red shrimp in butter and parmesan. Dick ordered the mixed grill special, filet, red shrimp, and quail. I tried the grilled pork tenderloin with 2 kinds of ravioli. All was delicious. For dessert, Dick had a limoncello cake, and I had bread pudding. An excellent finish to a successful boating season.

Vicari’s mixed grill with asparagus and hash browns

Vicari’s pork tenderloin with two kinds of ravioli

Here are some of our statistics for this season.

States: 8

Miles: 3141 (our longest trip ever)

Days: 106

Hours underway: 360

Engine Hours: 398.4 (also our most ever)

Average speed: 7.5 knots

Maximum speed: 19 knots

Locks: 66

Anchored: 13 nights

Also spent many nights at town walls without power, so ran the generator much more than prior seasons – over 400 hours

Quarts of whiskey consumed: 12 (ish)

This will be the last blog posting for a year. Yes, a year. We will come back to Nine Lives in October of 2024. After attending the AGLCA Annual Fall Rendezvous, we will take time to visit Chattanooga and Knoxville before heading south to Mobile on the Gulf of Mexico. We will “cross our wake” (that is complete our Loop), with a suitable party, in St Petersburg in December. After a break for Christmas, we will resume our winter voyage, heading south to the Florida Keys, and then north up the east coast of Florida and Georgia to finish in Hilton Head. Another party will be required, as we have always considered that we really began our Great Loop from our dock in Hilton Head!

September 15th to 28th, Paducah to Nashville and the Cumberland River

On our last afternoon in Paducah, Dick did what we expect will be our last major grocery shop for this trip. In bygone days, the hunter gatherer would have joined a bison hunt, but today, he leaps onto his trusty steed and rides (40 blocks in each direction, uphill both ways of course), to a supermarket where he loads up provisions for the autumn. No bison, so he bought eggs, bread, milk, and other essentials like beer and coffee.

The hunter gatherer returns from foraging

Our tasting menu on our last evening in Paducah at Freight House was everything we could hope for. The 8-course menu was incredibly creative, and the blend of flavours in each dish was exceptional. It is certainly what we would expect from a named chef. They do seem to have upped their game since we visited last spring, adding comfortable chairs, and I think a little more neutral decorating, while still retaining the old freight house ambiance. What amused us, being quite familiar with 6 and 7-course tasting menus in UK, was the size of each portion. They were easily double, and even triple the size they would be in UK. What was particularly interesting was that there were very few dishes on their menu, that either of us would have ordered. The great thing about a tasting menu is that you try things that you would not normally choose. Neither of us likes cold soup or pumpkin, and yet what we had was delicious and we would order it again. Same with the ribs. Although Dick does order ribs, I won’t touch them, and yet I thoroughly enjoyed the dry rib style with a crunchy topping and almost no fat. The excellence and innovation continued through all 8 courses. We even had the wine pairings, and they were perfectly chosen to complement the dishes. One thing we laughed about was the pours of the wines. In every case, the waitress poured Dick’s glass first, and then put more into my glass that his! If we ever return to Paducah, we will certainly eat there again.

Beef tenderloin and grilled brussels sprouts, one of the 8 courses on the tasting menu at Freight House

The next morning, we were very glad to see the dock attendant had received the message Dick left the evening before, and he arrived 15 minutes before the department even opened to give us fuel and a pump out. Dick had checked prices, and on this occasion, diesel was cheaper at Paducah than at Green Turtle Bay, even with the discounts they offer. He also did not charge us for the pump out. We had a very interesting conversation with the dock attendant about food and fine dining restaurants. Just shows that one should never make assumptions.

Filled up and pumped out, we were on our way by 9:05. Sadly, after a mile, we had to return to the dock to collect the credit card we had forgotten to get back from the attendant, so our actual start time was more like 9:30.

We had hoped to go up the Tennessee River and through Kentucky Lock for a change, and the queue reports for Kentucky Lock and Dam had been very positive earlier in the week. Unfortunately for that plan, normal traffic on the Ohio River had resumed, so the usual 4 and 5 tow delays were back. We went up the Cumberland River instead (our 5^th transit), which is farther, but quicker, to our destination at Green Turtle Bay.

Now that we are off the Ohio, we are seeing wildlife again. There were some birds on the lower reaches of the Cumberland, but Barclay Lock was a treat. Perched in the lock doors were a green heron, a night heron, and a great egret. On the lock wall, a great blue heron kept watch. On the lamp posts, there were seagulls, cormorants, and a bald eagle.

We were tied up in Green Turtle Bay by 3:20. It was an interesting arrival. The dockhand, an older man, came to help, so I passed him the midships line and went to the bow to let Dick know how far to come into the 20 foot wide slip. I could not understand why he kept steering to the right, and Dick couldn’t understand why he wasn’t making any forward progress. I looked back, and the dockhand had cleated the midships line and was dragging us sideways and backwards for all he was worth! Once I asked him to let go and uncleat, all was well.

For the first time in 4 visits to Green Turtle Bay, the Yacht Club dining room was open. It is a considerable step up from most yacht clubs we have visited, more like a fine dining restaurant. Shrimp cocktail for me, and an unusual wedge salad made with romaine lettuce was Dick’s choice to start. Dick had grilled catfish, and I enjoyed a perfectly cooked filet steak. Dessert was salted caramel cheesecake for me, and ice cream for Dick. It was an excellent meal, and we will look forward to visiting again on our return from Nashville.

Shrimp Cocktail at the Yacht Club at Green Turtle Bay

An unusual wedge salad at Green Turtle Bay

Salted caramel cheesecake at Green Turtle Bay

We were in no rush in the morning, had time to chat with several Loopers on the docks before heading out by 9:20, with new territory ahead!

We passed a tow that had one barge on his hip (that is, tied to the side of the tow, rather than being pushed with the rest). I don’t recall seeing that before.

A tow on the Cumberland River with one barge on the hip

Further along the Cumberland River, we passed the Kentucky State Penitentiary, known as “The Castle on the Cumberland”. It is Kentucky’s only maximum security and supermax prison. The main building was completed in 1888, built of stone from local quarries by Italian stonemasons. A later, fairly sympathetic addition on the right-hand side, was built in the 1930’s as a New Deal project. Inmates are not sent there directly from sentencing, but rather they are transferred there because of violent or disruptive behaviour in other prisons. It is also the site of Kentucky’s death row and execution facility. In 1988, 8 convicts, including 3 on death row, escaped by cutting through cell bars, walking through cell-house doors, and climbing 30 feet to a window using an electrical extension cord. More than 160 prisoners have been executed there. The penitentiary is said to be haunted, hardly surprising.

After 3 months on the Ohio River with very little to photograph in terms of scenery and wildlife, the Cumberland is heaven for me. I brought my big camera up from below for the first time this trip, and had a wonderful day. Herons are so much bigger than on the Ohio (pollution stunts growth perhaps?) We saw pelicans in rafts, literally hundreds of great egrets, and the usual cormorants, turkey vultures, and ducks.

We arrived at Bumpus Marina, a very rustic store/fuel dock with covered slips for seasonal renters. The very friendly dockhand helped us squeeze into our spot, and admired Nine Lives. He reminisced about his own catamaran that he used to keep in Florida. Nine Lives looked rather like an aging diva squeezed into a dress that no longer fits!

I made pizza on board, starting the dough while we were underway. It rose beautifully in the warm cabin over the running engine with the door shut. Afterwards, we sat in the cockpit and watched the fishermen returning to the launch ramp at dusk.

In 1862, Union troops moved a fleet of 4 ironclad ships, 2 timber-clad ships, tugs, transports, and hospital boats up the Cumberland River to attack Fort Donelson. The Confederates defending the fort badly damaged the fleet, but Union forces eventually encircled the fort and forced 13,000 Confederate troops to surrender. Although a sortie was led to clear the way for the Confederates to evacuate to Nashville, a combination of cowardice, self-interest, incompetence, and a misguided assumption that Ulysses S. Grant would offer generous terms to a former friend, led to the two senior generals escaping with a few soldiers, leaving the remaining troops to surrender. Grant refused to offer terms, gaining the nickname “Unconditional Surrender Grant”, and elevating him from an obscure and unproven leader to the rank of major general. The battle and subsequent surrender resulted in most of Kentucky and much of Tennessee, including Nashville, falling under Union control.

We passed the Cumberland Steam Plant. It was one of the world’s largest when it started operations in 1973. The striped stacks are 1000 feet high, thought at the time to be high enough to disperse furnace gases safely. They are no longer used, as newer 600-foot stacks with scrubbers remove impurities before the gases are released. The tall stacks will not be removed. The suggestion is that they remain as a landmark and historical artifact, but being somewhat cynical, I suspect that bringing them down would be pretty much impossible without damaging the rest of the plant.

Unloading coal for the Cumberland Steam Plant

Millions of years ago, a giant meteorite struck the earth here. Horizontal layers of stone from up to 2000 feet below the surface were thrown up into vertical layers. The steam plant is thought to sit at the centre of the impact.

Just below Clarksville, we came across another Endeavourcat. Two Hull-Areas is a 36, so a little smaller than Nine Lives. It is always interesting to see the similarities and differences between models and manufacturing years.

We passed American Melody again, after seeing her in Paducah, docked that day in Clarksville.

We tied up at the marina by 3:20.

There is a large grill-type restaurant at the marina, so we decided to try it. The beer cheese with pretzels and taco chips was very tasty, but the cheese was also very thin, so it dripped everywhere no matter how careful you were, and clothes had to be consigned to the laundry basket on our return to the boat. The rest of the meal (burger, wings, chicken wrap), was fine but nothing special. Service was very slow. We are back in Tennessee, so we were carded for drinks orders, which irritates me far beyond the minor inconvenience!

Turkey Vultures sit on the ramp leading to the restaurant from the marina

Later, we enjoyed a nightcap with Gina and Roger from Two Hull-Areas, who are based in the same marina. They are a few years away from starting the Loop. It was a most enjoyable evening.

The next day, Dick went for a long bike ride, while I had a relaxing day and made nasi goring (Indonesian fried rice with pork) for supper. We met the Loopers from the boat behind us on the dock, Spring Fling. Cheri and Pete are also segment Loopers. When they had returned to their boat the previous evening, it had been dark, so they couldn’t see our Great Loop burgee. They said to each other, bikes and ball fenders, it has to be a Looper! They were waiting for a tech to fix an electrical issue, but later on, after dinner, they joined us for a nightcap and an evening of chat and exchanging stories.

We took advantage of the convenient pump out at the slip before leaving. We were out by 9:10.

We passed Kings and Queens Bluff, with climbers preparing to make an ascent.

As we got closer to the lock, Dick noticed an increase in the current. When he spoke to the lockmaster, he was warned that the power company at the hydroelectric dam had released one spillway to clear a lot of debris. Sure enough, a few minutes later we came to a large debris field, with some quite substantial logs. Dick had to zig zag through it, with me standing at the bow to direct him past logs he couldn’t see, and even then, there were thumps and bumps as smaller pieces impacted the hull. There was a split tow in the lock when we arrived, so we had to wait about 90 minutes before going through.

We tied up at Riverview Restaurant and Marina, across from Ashland, Tennessee, before 2:30. The dock has power pedestals and water outlets, but they were disabled and turned off. There was a Plan A and a Plan B for the night’s stop. Plan A was the restaurant that is known for its excellent catfish. Plan B was to anchor and eat on board. Dick phoned the restaurant a few days before, and was told that there is no dock any more. Boaters we met were astonished to hear that, telling us that they had docked there a few days/weeks earlier. We decided to go as far as the restaurant, and turn back to anchor if necessary. In the event, the 240-foot dock was there, with 20 feet of water depth and good cleats.

Dick checked out the restaurant, and after seeing that all the wines were from California, he asked about corkage. For $7, we brought our own bottle of wine for the meal. (I had a recent reminder in the form of a massive headache, that I am allergic to California wines, after we included the wine pairings at Freight House in Paducah, and one of them was a California white). It was a very good meal. We were not carded for the wine. Cheese curds with marinara sauce, not a usual offering this far from Wisconsin, and an interesting basket of baked pepperoni slices with ranch sauce for dipping were our shared starters. Dick did not care for the pepperoni, but I enjoyed the crispy, spicy, thin slices with the cool sauce. For the main course, I chose shrimp in New Orleans style barbecue sauce with grilled bread that was delicious. Dick opted to try a combo with 3 choices, the famous broiled catfish, a crab cake, and broiled shrimp. Paired with our own bottle of rose, the meal was well worth the stop. The dessert, banana pudding, was definitely homemade, and many would like it, but after one bite, I retired and left it for Dick.

Ashland, Riverview Restaurant cheese curds and pepperoni chips to start

Riverview Restaurant Shrimp New Orleans Style

Riverview Restaurant combo dinner with catfish, crab cake, and grilled shrimp

A mansion on the Cumberland west of Nashville. This is the home of Alan Jackson.

As we approached the west side of Nashville the next day, we passed the Nashville Chew Crew, a herd of sheep (with a few goats) with a herding dog that hire out to clear overgrown land. The area is temporarily fenced, and the sheep graze it down, under the watchful eye of the herd dog. Just to remind us that we see something new all the time on the Loop! Later, Dick was able to ride his bike to their location, and get a closer view of the Chew Crew at work. His comment was that they represent a somewhat unexpected level of environmental sensitivity in what is still essentially a red-neck town!

The Chew Crew herding dog goes down to the water for a drink

The Chew Crew takes a well-earned break under a tree

We were tied up at the City Dock by 1pm, across from downtown and American Melody that had arrived a day earlier. There was power on the docks, but strangely, no water, so we had to be careful of our usage. Just after we were set, a tow went past so fast that the dockmaster hailed him and told him off. We made a few adjustments to our lines to make sure other big wakes were not going to be snapping the lines.

Nashville skyline, American Melody, and Nine Lives on the Municipal Dock

After days of pleasantly cool weather, it was 85F. We knew we would have long walks to dinner across the pedestrian bridge on all three nights of our stay.

We walked across the bridge to downtown, and eventually made our way to Jeff Ruby’s steak house. Downtown was noisy, full of bars with live music playing loudly, and ugly characters standing outside as bouncers at the doors. I was reminded of Bourbon Street in New Orleans, with country rock instead of jazz (not that Bourbon Street has much jazz these days).

Dinner was excellent, in over-the-top surroundings, with piano music playing softly in the background. We were not carded when we ordered wine, fitting my expectation that fine dining restaurants would not do it. The law says if a person looks over 50, they do not need to show ID. Dick started with Oysters Rockefeller, and I had a shrimp cocktail, which was presented in a dish of ice lit from below by a blue light. The steaks were delicious and perfectly done. I tried mine with crab and asparagus on top. Dessert was a fat cigar-like roll, filled with chocolate ice cream, resting on an “ashtray” filled with pot de crème. Dick liked the cigar, and I preferred the pot de crème, so we were both happy.

Oysters and shrimp cocktail at Jeff Ruby

Steak with crab and asparagus, note the size of the baked potato on the separate plate!

Shortly after getting to sleep, Dick was woken by tapping on the hull. He got up and walked all around the boat, to see whether a stray log had become wedged and was banging against the hull (it was that loud). There was nothing to see. Eventually, he concluded that there were fish eating stuff off the hull. He had read about this, but we have never experienced it before. The noise was remarkably loud, and it moved from bow to stern and back and forth between the two hulls. It eventually stopped, but it was loud enough to keep us awake while the fish were enjoying their dinner. Catfish exacting revenge for their buddies that have ended up on Dick’s dinner plate?

The next day Dick explored the extensive riverfront bike paths, riding about 20 miles. He found the Nashville Chew Crew, hard at work, and was able to take more photos. I watched the pontoon tour boats arrive and depart for river tours from our dock. Later, three men asked me if we would mind moving along the dock. They were planning a combination car show (Porsche) and boat show (Chris-Craft) on the dock and the pathway above, and wanted to put their boats in our spot. Given that we had booked and paid for 3 days, and the dockmaster said nothing about moving, I told them that we would not be willing. When Dick got back from his bike ride he agreed with me, if we were to be moved it should come from the dockmaster, and we did not want to move anyway, for several reasons.

Nashville, the stadium, and Nine Lives on the dock, taken from the pedestrian bridge

Each pillar represents a county in Tennessee. At the top of each pillar is a bell, making the whole edifice a carillon. In the distance at the other end of the park is the State Capitol Building

Jacques-Timothée Boucher, Sieur de Montbrun was a French Canadian, who, after the defeat of France at The Plains of Abraham in 1759, migrated to the British colonies in the south, and became a fur trader. He dropped his noble title, and anglicized his name to Timothy Demonbreun. At first, he lived in a cave, but soon built a log cabin near Nashville to be his base for hunting and trapping. He served as lieutenant governor of the Northwest Territory from 1783 to 1786 before settling permanently in Nashville. He is considered to be Nashville’s “First Citizen”. He built a fur trading and mercantile business in downtown Nashville, selling such useful things as window glass, paper, cured deer hides, and buffalo tongues. A man of his times, he maintained 2 families, one with 5 children by his wife in Illinois, and the other with 3 children by his mistress in Nashville. He died a very wealthy man, leaving his fortune to be divided among all of his children except one. His son, Felix, became a Baptist minister, and Demonbreun was a French Catholic, so Felix was cut out of the will. Neither his wife nor his mistress were provided for in the will either.

Timothy Demonbreun, Nashville’s First Citizen

The cave that Demonbreun lived in is just above this old water intake tower in Nashville

In 1929, The Seeing Eye, the world-famous dog training school was founded in Nashville. Morris Frank, a 20-year-old blind man, and his seeing eye dog Buddy co-founded the school with Dorothy Harrison Eustis after he read an article she had written about dogs being trained as guides for blinded WWI veterans.

Nine Lives and the Nashville skyline at night

We walked across the bridge to Ella’s for dinner. This was a more casual venue than the previous evening, but the food was both creative and tasty. I started with a variation on prosciutto and melon, and Dick enjoyed his favourite beet salad. Dick made a better choice for the main course than I did, choosing the duck Bolognese, while I tried the black truffle gnocchi. I was glad that the waitress suggested topping my dish with grilled shrimp, as the gnocchi were not to my taste, although the sauce was delicious.

The General Jackson Showboat passes Nashville

The next morning, we had booked a tour of the city on a hop-on-hop-off bus. When Dick downloaded the tickets, he discovered that he had made a slight error in the booking, and the non-refundable tickets were for the previous day. Fortunately, the very nice lady at the ticket office was willing to re-book the tour for the following week when we returned, so we did not lose out.

Dinner was at a modern Italian restaurant, Il Mulino, located in the Hilton downtown. Dick ordered octopus to start, a beautiful and delicious presentation, but I have chosen not to include a photo to spare the sensibilities of some of my readers! I ordered the Caprese salad, very pretty, and quite acceptable but the balsamic was overly sweet for my taste. The chef would seem to be anti-salt, as my shrimp dish was bland, and I had to ask the waiter to bring a salt shaker. The first one was empty, suggesting that I am not the only customer who felt the need to use it. Dick loved his lasagna, a huge serving, so he chose to take half of it home. We shared a delicious, elegant, and perfectly sized flourless chocolate concoction for dessert.

At the next table was a couple, he with baseball cap firmly in place, and she apparently having been over-served at the bar. They ordered pizza, and asked for a box before even half was eaten. At this point, she put her head on the table and went to sleep, while he sat quietly, contemplatively eating slices of pizza from the take-out box, while occasionally patting her arm. To us they were sadly the epitome of Nashville visitors.

The Shelby Street Bridge, now called the John Seigenthaler Pedestrian Bridge, spans the Cumberland River above where we were docked. It was built in 1909, and was one the first in North America to have concrete arched trusses. After just 25 years, there were problems with the concrete, and the bridge was repaired over a two-year period. Thirty years later, it was in need of further repairs. It finally closed in 1998 because it was unsafe after years of heavy traffic. Instead of tearing it down, the city decided to convert it into a pedestrian (and cycling) bridge. Four years and $15 million later, it opened in 2003. It is 3150 feet long, one of the world’s longest pedestrian bridges. There is lots of seating, and several viewing areas, and each night we were there we saw a different busker.

Zoomed in, you can just see Dick waving from the viewing platform on the bridge

As we crossed the bridge to return to the boat, we realized that not only was the busker that evening excellent, he was singing Turn the Page by Bob Seeger. It happens to be one of our favourite songs. It has also been covered by Waylon Jennings, and others. The busker was singing it very well, all the poignant emotion of a musician, tired of being on the road, was conveyed, and all that was missing was the wailing sax of the Seeger version. A perfect end, and very positive, for our first stay in Nashville.

The General Jackson Showboat is one of the largest showboats ever built. It was launched on the Ohio River in 1985. It plies the waters of the Cumberland River from Opryland to south of Nashville, with both lunch and dinner cruises. Each cruise includes a show in the two-story theatre. I had wondered whether the boat is a true stern-wheeler, or whether the paddlewheel is just decoration. Fortunately, I married an engineer (and have brought him with me on this voyage), who can interpret the information given on the website. The engines are 2 Caterpillar 3512’s, 1050hp per engine, and 880 kw generators. The engines will drive the generators, and the generators will drive the 2 600hp GE motors to turn the paddlewheel. Dick believes that there will be no propellers with that configuration, so the boat is a true sternwheeler.

Even a derelict dock adds to the scenery on the Cumberland above Nashville

The Cumberland River gets quite narrow below Old Hickory Lock, with a rock bottom that had to be blasted to build the waterway. It was very important to “colour between the lines”, that is, stay between the markers, on this stretch of the river. We hoped we didn’t have to meet or pass a tow.

Cumberland River narrows, note the positions of the red and green markers, the bottom is rock, best avoided by boats!

We had a 3.5 hour wait at the lock. It was unfortunate that we arrived when they were putting through 2 downbound tows, one of which had to triple split, as the lock is very small. We had planned to anchor that night, but given that it was a weekend on a busy lake, Dick called one of the marinas he had not tried earlier, to see whether they had room for us. They did, in a 20×50 slip. We made our way up Drakes Creek, past incredibly large houses, to Creekwood Marina. There we spent half an hour tooling up and down the various piers (none of which had numbers or letters), trying to find slip D20. The map the nice lady had sent didn’t seem to have any relationship to the empty slips we could see. We even called out to some people on their boats, but they could only direct us to D-Dock, and we still couldn’t find our slip. The lady tried to help us on the phone. Half an hour of appearing increasingly suspicious to boaters in their slips, and Dick discovered that we were in entirely the wrong marina. The one we had booked was ten miles up-river, once we had made our way back to the main Old Hickory Lake. Altogether we lost at least another hour in a day that had started just after 8am.

I did at least get to take a picture of Rock Castle, and we saw some amazing houses. Apparently, many successful people in the Nashville music business, both artists and executives, choose to live in Henderson, which is on Old Hickory Lake across from Greater Nashville.

One of many big houses on Old Hickory Lake. Note the slide from the second floor to the swimming pool!

Daniel Smith, a Virginian Surveyor, began construction of Rock Castle in 1784. The house sat on part of the 3,140 acres that Smith received in land grants for his service in the Revolutionary War and his surveying work. The family lived in the house for over 200 years, and it is considered to be the oldest house in Middle Tennessee. It was always very well kept, and is still in similar condition to its original state. Smith was an Indian negotiator, negotiating most of the treaties with the Cherokee Indians in Tennessee. He drafted the State Constitution for Tennessee, and was also one of the earliest Senators, serving two terms when Tennessee became a state. The mansion was built from rocks quarried on site. The stone construction led to the myth that the building was fireproof and it began to be called a castle.

Once we had left Drakes Creek and were back to the lake, Dick decided to kick up the speed, so we arrived at Cedar Creek Marina just after 6pm. The marina map now made sense, and we found our slip. Fortunately, there were 2 resident boaters on the docks, who came to help us get in. I say fortunately, because we got partway into the slip and came to an abrupt and sadly familiar halt. Not a 20-foot-wide slip! In fact, it was 17.5 feet. The mistake was that the marina measures the distances between slips, without accounting for the finger pier between. It was after hours, so we could have been without a place to go except for anchoring. That was no longer a good option, because, expecting to be in a marina, we had not filled up with water after the lock, and our water tanks were nearly empty. The resident boaters knew about an empty houseboat slip, and they directed us there (and helped tie up). This one was 25×80, so no problem with the fit! The frustrations of the day were not over. Once we were set and tied up, Dick attached the power cord to the 50amp outlet at the end of the slip. No power. We had to untie and move the boat further into the slip, and then use the outlet across the dock with a single 30amp socket. This meant using power management on board, being careful, for instance, not to use the toaster oven and any AC at the same time. It was after 7pm before Dick had retrieved the keyfob to access the showers that had been left for him and we sat down with a very large Manhattan to finish an 11-hour day. The distance to the showers meant that there was no possibility that Dick would use them, and yet he had to walk over there the next morning to return the keyfob.

We had a very peaceful night, and enjoyed chatting with our friendly slip neighbours. We were out after a leisurely morning by 10:30, ready for a day of sightseeing around Old Hickory Lake.

We had made a change to the original plan. We had expected to be in Drakes Creek the first night, and then anchor at Bledsoe Creek, at the farthest we planned to explore, the second night. It would then be about a four-hour journey back to the lock. After our experience waiting, and studying the movements of the 2 tows that travel back and forth every day between Nashville and the Gallatin Steam Plant, we realized that we would be better being as close as possible to the lock for the second night, anchored in a location that we could stay as long as necessary (we now know that 6-hour waits for that lock are common), and be ready to pull anchor and get to the lock quickly when the opportunity came.

We liked Old Hickory Lake. Other boaters had made faces and told us to go further upriver, to Cordell Hull, above the next dam. One boater’s comment was, “It’s all houses.” However, we enjoyed the mix of houses, some very large, and some quite modest cottages. There were plenty of quiet and scenic areas, especially as you get farther from Nashville and Henderson. The fall colours were just starting.

We passed Seven Mile Bluff, with trees turning to gold for autumn.

Interesting rock formations near Seven Mile Bluff

We went as far as Cairo, and saw what we think is the only house remaining from what was an important city until the railroads and better transportation links made it a ghost town by 1855. The city was originally called Ca Ira, usually translated as “It will be fine”. Ca Ira was the song of the French Revolution, and given the French roots of the earliest settlers and the voyageurs and fur traders in this area, the name makes sense. The city began growing in the late 1700s and early 1800s, and was one of the largest shipping ports on the Cumberland, rivalling Nashville in importance. When another city was chosen as the county seat, coinciding with a decline in river traffic and an economic recession, the city disappeared.

We passed the house where Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash lived from the 1960s until 2003 when they died. Many of Johnny Cash’s songs were written in this house. It was bought by Barry Gibb (Bee Gees) and burned to the ground in 2007 while under renovation. The property has recently been purchased by a hedge fund manager for $3.5 million.

Stonework that is all that remains of the former home of Johnny Cash

We anchored for the night across from Walton Ferry Arboretum, set by 4pm. We were very near the lock, and planned to set an alarm and check the lock queue status. At some time in the middle of the night, one of the 2 tows that monopolize the lock, arrived above the lock and was in place to go down by 6am when it opened. Dick called the lockmaster, who predicted (with no promises) 9am for our transit. Meanwhile it was a very peaceful anchorage, with a glorious sunrise and good cell service, so what more could we ask for while we waited!

We were into the lock just after 9am, but it was a bit of a debacle. I could not get Nine Lives over to the port side of the lock while Dick was waiting to put the line over the floating bollard. After 2 unsuccessful tries, we switched roles, and although Dick did get the boat into the side, I couldn’t get the line on the bollard properly, so we had to scramble and return to our usual places. Fortunately, Dick snagged the line and was able to get it secured. He agreed that there was a strong current pushing us away from the wall, even though there was no wind, so I felt vindicated!

A night heron sat on the lock door and watched us descend 60 feet. We were out of the lock well before 10am, and on our way to Nashville. We passed the Municipal Dock, and waved to Dock Holiday, a Looper boat tied there. They later sent us a very nice picture of Nine Lives passing through. We arrived at Rock Harbor Marina, and after getting a pump out, we were in our slip by 2:30. We looked longingly at the empty slip next to us, thinking that it would be less in the hot sun than ours. It was 86F. However, we later realized that most of the slips are in bright sun, so moving would not gain much.

Nine Lives passes downtown on her return to Nashville

We went to the onsite (highly rated) restaurant for dinner. It was something of a mixed experience. It is fully outdoors, never my favourite option, and the food is mainly burgers and baskets, although well-presented. The cheese curds we started with were delicious, a generous sharing portion, and served with two sauces. Dick ordered the Mahi mahi with a side of broccoli, but the waitress misunderstood and he received the sandwich option instead, which was a bit odd with the broccoli! Apparently, the sandwich was good anyway, as was the broccoli! I ordered nachos with BBQ chicken. It was not at all what I expected. The chicken (which was very good) was grilled white meat, cut into pieces, and real cheese had been used, but the whole plate was slathered in sweet BBQ sauce from a jar.

When we got back to the boat, I discovered that the swim platform was considerably further from the dock than I am comfortable stepping across. Dick always dismisses my concerns, telling me to just let myself fall forward onto the step. Yeah, right. As I hesitated and tried to gather the courage to make the jump, some other boaters stopped and offered to help. We explained that it was just a matter of getting enough courage to jump, but one guy was really concerned, and insisted on waiting until he knew I was safe. I told him he could help fish me out if I fell into the drink! It was a very touching example of the care and camaraderie that exists among boaters!

The next day, Dick picked up the rental car and did a supplemental grocery shop. Dinner was at Chateau West, a very nice French restaurant. The food was delicious. Shrimp in saffron sauce for me, while Dick ordered escargot, carrying on his search for an authentic version of the French delicacy. This time, there was still not enough garlic, and a lightly vinegary sauce, but acceptable. I ordered filet in perigourdine sauce with mushrooms and scalloped potatoes. Dick’s choice was duck in Chambord sauce. As Dick’s second glass of Beaujolais was delivered, he tried to help the waitress by tossing back the last mouthful of wine in his first glass. Too late, I noticed that there was a lot of sediment in the glass. “Ghaak!” was the gist of Dick’s remarks, followed by downing a lot of water.

Dessert for me was Isle Flottante, a seldom seen concoction of soft meringue islands, floating in crème anglaise (which, of course, being English, I call custard). It was delicious, even with the somewhat untraditional addition of caramel sauce and slivered almonds, but it was enough for 3 people! Dick had Poire Belle Helene, also very nice. As he commented, in this country, the chef will seldom have access to properly ripe pears, so the dish was not quite as it should have been, although very close.

An interesting observation – our waitress had a familiar accent, so Dick asked where she was from. The answer was Russia, specifically Siberia. They were able to chat about places that Dick had visited during his career. The hostess, who also helped out with water, wine, and bread, and delivering food, also had a familiar accent. When asked, she told us she is from Ukraine. This cannot be uncommon, and must in many ways be difficult for these young ladies, but on the other hand, it shows that ordinary people just get on with their lives, regardless of the politics of the moment.

We were not carded in this restaurant, as with everywhere in Nashville, but Dick noticed that a younger couple at a nearby table were asked for ID. This is how it is supposed to be, according to the new Tennessee law. It appears that the cheaper, high volume, and especially chain restaurants just make it a blanket rule for their staff, and assume nobody will care enough to give negative reviews.

Escargot and Saffron Shrimp at Chateau West

Filet steak and scalloped potatoes at Chateau West

Ile Flottante at Chateau West, big enough for 3 people!

On our return, Dick was in dog-heaven, as we met the English Mastiff with her small doggie companion and her person. Dick was able to pet the Mastiff, and reminisce about our Hannibal, long departed. The couple hope to do the Loop after retirement in a few years’ time, so perhaps we will meet them again.

September 27^th. A busy day for our last in Nashville. In late morning, we went downtown and got on the hop-on-hop-off bus tour. We had 2 different drivers. The first was a real Tennessee Southerner, quite a character. He told us all about local food and where to eat it, spiced with anecdotes from his life. The second driver was a young guy with a somewhat dry, but much more informative presentation with respect to the monuments, architecture, and Music Row. We enjoyed the trip, and it was the best way to see the city.

Next, we visited the Country Music Hall of Fame. It was very interesting, and we enjoyed it, but we felt that there were quite a few gaps in the overall story. In the inevitable comparison with the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, which we also visited on the Loop, this fell short. One whole wall of one floor was dedicated to the story of an artist neither of us have ever heard of. We couldn’t figure out why he deserved so much attention.

The gift shop at the Country Music Hall of Fame

After a pick-me-up pause in the bar, and a cruise around the gift shop (we didn’t buy a guitar), we headed to our final venue for the day, The Listening Room. Here we enjoyed a dinner show that featured 4 singer-songwriters who took turns to perform their own compositions. All were good, but we would have preferred to have heard at least some familiar music. Also, all were men, and we generally prefer the women of country music. The food was quite good, of the burgers and baskets style, but we noticed that we were one of the very few tables to order a meal. Most people just shared appetizers and ordered drinks.

Four singer-songwriters at The Listening Room

Both of us were up at 5am the next day, as a thunderstorm crashed overhead. We were in a covered slip, but the rain did come in, and by the time we had zipped up the windows and closed the upper hatch, we were both wide awake. There was not going to be any more sleeping through the thunder and lightning anyway.

It was an unexpectedly wet day. Dick had to step outside and get damp to put in the eisenglass side doors. It rained on and off as we approached the lock.

My marine traffic app showed only one tow anywhere near the lock, and he had been stationary for hours. As we got close to the lock, Dick made his usual phone call, and was given the bad news that the tow we could see was next, and there were 2 upbound tows waiting. This could easily have meant a 9-hour wait until it would be our turn, as all 3 waiting tows were going to have to split to go through the lock (a split tow will usually take 3 hours, and that is often an optimistic estimate). The lockmaster told Dick that the electric company had wanted to generate some electricity, so they had held back the dam, and as a result, it became too shallow below the lock for tows to go through. This resulted in a queue. Dick agreed to be available for contact, and we continued past the waiting tow, planning to wait just above the lock in case the lockmaster could sneak us through. The tow we passed, that was next in line to go down, did not untie, and he was a good half hour before he could get up to and into the lock, so the lockmaster just opened the doors for us as we approached. Dick commented that, as always, he would rather be lucky than good! However, some of that luck did not continue. After choosing not to put on his rain jacket, while Dick was tending the line as we locked down, the heavens opened, and he got very wet.

Below the lock we came upon a tow that was diagonal across the narrow river. He hailed us, and told Dick that he was “kinda stuck here”, and suggested that we should pass on the 1 whistle (port to port) where we would have deeper water. In his diagonal position, there was no way the tow behind us could pass him. A coastguard announcement was made that there was a tow aground in that spot. Half an hour later, another announcement said he was no longer aground, so he must have been able to free himself and get over to the cells to tie up and wait for the other tow to go past.

A waterfall on a day of heavy rain just south of Clarksville. There was no sign of this waterfall when we passed here a week ago

We arrived in Clarksville and were tied up by 2:10. There was one other Looper boat on the dock, plus the Harbor Hosts, Two Hull-Areas in their usual slip. Dick chatted with Dock Holiday, learning that they were the folks who sent us the great picture of Nine Lives passing downtown Nashville when we passed them on the Municipal Dock. They had been just about half an hour ahead of us at the lock, and heard all the conversation with the lockmaster. We are looking forward to docktails with them and Gina and Roger from Two Hull-Areas this evening.

The transient dock and Clarksville Marina

Here’s some music trivia for you.

One cannot visit Clarksville (if you are part of our generation), without thinking about the song, “Take the Last Train to Clarksville”. In fact, it’s something of an earworm. The song was written in 1966 for the Monkees by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, but the only member of the band who participated in the recording was Micky Dolenz, who sang the lyrics. The song is a plea from a man to his girlfriend, to meet him in the city so they can enjoy a last night together before he leaves. Although it is not specifically mentioned, the presumption is that he is going off to war “and I don’t know if I’m ever coming home”. It is usually interpreted as an anti-war protest song. Clarksville is near Fort Campbell, Kentucky, the home of the 101st Airborne Division that was then serving in Vietnam. Unfortunately for generations of English teachers who study the song and get their students to analyse the lyrics, the song was not written about Clarksville, instead, a town in Arizona called Clarkdale was chosen, and then the writers decided that Clarksville sounded better. Looking into the song further, you may remember that the Monkees were not originally a band of musicians. Instead, the TV producers wanted to cash in on the popularity of the Beatles and their successful films. They advertised for singers to act in a comedy TV series. Many of the original recordings did not feature any of the band members, instead they used studio musicians and singers. The Last Train to Clarksville was inspired by the Beatles’ “Paperback Writer” (there’s another earworm for you), with a similar style, tempo, and a distinctive guitar riff. When Hart first heard Paperback Writer, he misheard the ending, thinking that Paul McCartney was singing “take the last train”. Yes, that is the story, and if you are familiar with both songs, you must be wondering, as I do, what substances he had ingested before listening! Once he found out the those were not the lyrics, he was free to use them, and Hart set them as the base for Last Train to Clarksville.

September 1 to 14, Cincinnati to Paducah

September began with a fascinating driving tour of Cincinnati with Audrey. She was a great guide. After a brief stop at the Lunken Field Airport to see the historic planes that were in town for the long weekend, we drove across the river to Newport. Once a lawless and dangerous place, it became a city of gracious homes with beautiful gardens. Back across the river, and a highlight was the Spring Grove Cemetery. It is a beautiful place with many imposing monuments reflected in peaceful lakes.

Historic bomber at Lunken Airport in Cincinnati

Another of the historic planes, this one is called Cincinnati Kid!

Our dinner at Boca was one of the best this trip. It was a strange menu, with “small bites”, that are not sharing size, followed by “petits plats”, which include small individual or sharing portions. The idea is that you order two or three in each category. We began with two of the tiny plates, a lobster roll, and pommes souffles, puffed potatoes with dipping sauce. I tried a sort of corn dish with pasta and jalapenos, and Dick ordered a salad. We shared a delicious pasta Bolognese dish, and then we ordered the beef wellington. That was definitely sized for sharing, and was delicious. We were also delighted that it was plated in the kitchen, so much more civilized than expecting us to divide it into messy portions ourselves. Desserts were a highlight. Dick ordered panna cotta, and my dessert was “Le Citron”, a lemon dish that I will remember for a long time. It arrived on the plate, looking just like a real lemon, set on a lemon shortbread in Italian meringue. I was a bit disconcerted to be presented with a steak knife, but it became clear when I used it to cut the “lemon”. It was a hollow form made with white chocolate. Inside was lemon curd, and preserved meyer lemon. There was also some sort of cheesecake filling. It will be a long time before I have a dessert that is as creative and delicious as that one.

We were invited for the coffee and donut gathering at the Yacht Club the next morning. Audrey joined us. Later we visited Darlene and Mike’s boat, Riversong, and then they walked over to see Nine Lives. They will begin their loop later this month, and we hope to see them further down the rivers, or perhaps in Hilton Head. We were quiet for the rest of the day. Dick made a run to the liquor store to replenish our stocks, and I finished the blog for the previous two weeks.

We had a nice, and very authentic dinner at The French Crust. It started poorly though. Dick tried two different parking places, and the charge to park was a flat rate $25 to park until 4am. Since we only wanted 2 hours, he was very annoyed. As my Mum used to put it, “I want to park, not buy the lot!” (she was objecting to a $3 charge!) Once Dick decided to accept the inevitable (with much grumbling), we arrived at the restaurant to discover that it is so authentic that there is no air conditioning. It was 93F that day. Apparently, they do have AC, but it has been broken for 2 months! Our waiter had been there since 9am – we felt very sorry for him.

Dick’s escargot were good, but as in other places, not garlicky enough. My pork pate was very tasty. We both ordered the vol au vent with shrimp, scallops, and vegetables in a white wine cream sauce for our main course. Dessert was pot de crème (a dense chocolate mousse), delicious, but double the size it is supposed to be.

Later, I looked up the parking information, and sure enough, all city parking is $20 to $30 on a “special” weekend. Note to self, avoid “special” weekends in cities, not that we had a choice on this occasion.

After our return to the marina, we met a couple we had chatted with on the radio on the Ohio River as we passed each other a few days earlier. They came on board for an evening drink and chat. It was most enjoyable, and went well past Looper midnight (that is generally accepted to be 9pm)!

September 3^rd. We had booked a Segway tour for the morning. It was supposed to be in the downtown riverfront, but that was not allowed due to the big fireworks weekend. Instead, we toured Eden Park. It was a good tour, with nice views of the river with boaters gathering for the fireworks. For a change the other people in the group arrived early as requested, so we didn’t lose time while they learned how to ride the Segways. They also were good, careful riders, another nice change from our last experience! After the tour, we went to Jungle Jim’s, a huge international supermarket. We found a few things to add to our pantry.

Boats already rafted up on the Ohio River in the morning, waiting for the fireworks

More boats hurrying to get a good spot for the fireworks

We had the boat exterior cleaned by a local boat cleaner. She didn’t do a particularly good job, merely adequate, but it did get rid of the hideous Ohio River moustache that was marring Nine Lives’ once pristine hull.

Dinner at Nicholsons was a disappointment, mainly for Dick, as I had no great expectations. I knew that the so-called Scottish Pub had few choices for me. They were busy, and clearly short of wait staff, as we were looked after in a sporadic manner by a lady who was a supervisor, not a waitress. We were left sitting with no drinks or orders taken for 15 minutes after we arrived, and it never got any better. The food when it was delivered was cold. Dick’s Scotch egg was the only highlight.

Nicholson’s Scottish Pub, Dick looking tired of waiting!

The Scotch Egg was the only success at Nicholsons

Fortunately, we had found a parking garage with “Event pricing” for $15, so not quite as bad as the $25 or $30 we would have paid on the street or in a city lot. At least Dick didn’t have that extra stressor to spoil his evening! As we drove back over the Ohio to return to the marina, we could see all the boats anchored for the fireworks. Many were rafted up 4 or 5 boats. Sadly, there was no way to take a picture, as it was an amazing sight, seeing the river completely filled with small craft. All tow traffic is stopped for the fireworks event.

We could not see the fireworks from the marina, and had no intention of either driving to a viewing spot, or worse, taking the boat and anchoring with people who go out once a year and had been drinking all day! Locals were mystified to hear that we would not see the fireworks, it would seem to be mandatory for everyone who lives in Cincinnati.

On our last evening we had an excellent dinner at Eddie Merlot’s, a small chain of steak houses. The food was delicious, and the setting was a gorgeous modern restaurant with stunning décor, artworks, and stained glass. Back at the marina, we were joined on board for a nightcap by Jon, another Looper who we had met in Pittsburgh. Jon is single-handing, occasionally joined by friends and relatives. We enjoyed exchanging stories of our adventures.

Eddie Merlot’s, Potstickers and shrimp cocktail

Eddie Merlot’s, filet steak with peppercorn sauce

Eddie Merlot’s, carrot cake and special coffee

We liked Cincinnati. It is a very clean city, and there is clearly a lot of wealth and prosperity. We saw a lot of the city while we drove to restaurants and shops, and there was very little evidence of the usual big city poor neighbourhoods and homeless people.

Flood gauge on the side of a Cincinnati church with historic flood markings

The same church, seen from the river. You can get a sense of just how high the waters can get.

Cincinnati skyline as we headed downriver

A warehouse, painted and done up to look like a sternwheeler, south of Cincinnati

Leaving Cincinnati, we arrived at Rising Sun at 2:30. It was an incredibly hot day, the weather report said “feels like 99”. It did. The city has an excellent dock for visitors. Dick was struck by how clean and tidy the town is, real civic pride. Rising Sun has a seaplane repair shop. We were surprised to see this, as we have seen no evidence whatsoever of seaplanes anywhere on the Ohio.

Rising Sun, although small, was a center of invention. J.W. Whitlock invented an automatic harp, that is considered to be a precursor to the jukebox. He also invented a coin operated horse racing game. His biggest achievement was a racing boat, that set the speed record for travelling the 267 miles from Cincinnati to Louisville and back, at just over a mile a minute in 1924. This record still stands. The attempt was made on a day that the river was full of debris. When Whitlock arrived back at Cincinnati, there were cheering crowds waiting to congratulate him, but he just waved and then turned around and returned to Rising Sun. His boat, The Hoosier Boy, had been holed by debris during the race, and if he had stopped to accept the congratulations from the crowd he would have sunk. The record will never be matched, because the Markland Lock and Dam has since been built between the two cities. Another Rising Sun resident, Henry Clore, was a blacksmith who set up a shop to produce ploughs. By 1880, his company was shipping 6000 ploughs a year down the Ohio to southern markets.

Rising Sun, a beautiful mural on one of the old buildings

A horse ferry operated across the Ohio to Rabbit Hash (famous today for its succession of canine mayors). There were two ferries. They were propelled by a team of horses on a treadmill. Apparently, blind horses were preferred, because they had no fear and were thus easier to manage. A ferry still plies the waters between the two towns, but the horses have been replaced by diesel engines.

Rising Sun, the sunrise the town is named for

September 16. We were out by 8:30, with a fairly long day and one lock to transit. There was a little bit of waiting at the lock while a large tow pushed into the other chamber. We had planned to stop at Madison town dock, but although it is a good dock, they are strict about no overnight stays. Another Looper boat was planning on stopping at the marina, so we decided to try that, not wishing to pay the exorbitant $3/ft that we paid last time at the riverfront restaurant and dock. The marina is better, at $1.75/ft, but even that is more than what is usual on the Ohio. The challenge was that it is very shallow, and there was a dredge parked in a very inconvenient spot in front of our assigned slip. Dick managed it, with 2 feet under the boat, and then we discovered that the expected 20-foot-wide slip isn’t. Nine Lives could go no further forward, she was tight against the side posts, and that was before her widest part! Dick called the dockmaster, who was making his way over to help us tie up, and his comment was “I see your problem”. Fortunately, there was another, wider slip, that we could get into (although with zero depth showing below the boat). We were at the opening end of the 80 ft slip, and we thought that the power pedestal would be too far away, but the helpful dockmaster promised a solution. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he produced a long cord to attach to ours. We could only use half the available power (we would have needed a second long cord, which was offered), but we were able, with careful power management, to use both air conditioners, so all was well. Dick has an extra hose on board, so reaching the water tap was not an issue.

We met the gold Loopers, who we had been watching on Nebo and also had corresponded with online about the J.T.Meyers lock closure. They joined us on board for docktails, and then we all walked to town and enjoyed some truly excellent pizza. Chance meetings like this really make the whole Looping experience special!

We were wondering how challenging our departure was going to be. Dick had a word with the dockmaster in the morning, who used a special high-tech device to check the water depths for us from his workboat. Non-tech folks would refer to the device as a stick – poke it down to the bottom and see how far up the stick is wet. Dick executed a perfect 180 degree turn just outside the slip. It was very impressive, and an excellent demonstration of just how maneuverable Nine Lives is. The rest of the departure was just as smooth.

As we approached Louisville, we were hailed on the radio by a boater on a Sea Ray runabout. He told us that he has been following our blog, and watching our progress on Nebo, and he made a point of coming out to meet us as we passed his marina so he could take pictures of Nine Lives. Bill and his wife are segment Loopers, on a Ranger Tug called Cookie. We were highly amused that the name of the Sea Ray is Cookie’s Cutter.

Later, Bill met us at our destination at the pump out dock, caught lines, and helped out, and then helped again as we tied up at the restaurant. We spent some time on board chatting, but we couldn’t quite manage to lure him to stay for some proper docktails. I now have a set of great pictures of Nine Lives underway. Thanks Bill!

After a quiet afternoon, we joined Lucy and John in the restaurant for dinner. It was great to see them again. We were lucky that the timing worked, because they had just returned from Paris the day before! We enjoyed the evening very much, and hope to see them again.

John, Lucy, Dick, Louise at Captains Quarters

The dock at Captain’s Quarters Restaurant is strictly for dining, no overnight stays are allowed. It is a very popular restaurant, and on a weekend, it would be heaving. Waiters will even deliver food to your boat if you prefer to stay on board! After making our reservation, Dick asked if an exception could be made to the overnight rule, and he was told that it should be okay, as they were not busy, but to speak to a manager after arrival. The manager asked Dick to call and ask if the neighbouring private marina had space, but said that although he is not supposed to allow it, he would make an exception if there was no space in the marina. Dick sent an email, and left a phone message, and later in the evening he got a call to say there was no room for us. We decided not to talk to the manager again, just stay put, as he had already given tacit approval. Nobody bothered us, and we were out by 8am with a long day ahead of us and one lock before our planned anchorage.

Nine Lives, trying not to be noticed on the dock at Captains Quarters

There was a bit of a flurry after we entered the lock. We were rigged for a port tie to the floating bollard, and the lockmaster called on the radio and asked us to move over to the starboard side so he could see us from his control cabin. Dick had scramble and move 3 ball fenders and a barrel, plus prepare the midships line, while I eased into the lock very slowly.

We passed under the Matthew E. Welsh bridge in Brandenburg. We found it notable because it is the only bridge we can remember seeing that is considerably higher on one bank than the other.

We anchored on the Ohio River, in a wide area just below Old Blue River Island, with the anchor down and set by 3:30. We anchored in about 16 feet of water. As always, I set 2 anchor alarms, but I had to increase the alarm radius because Dick had put out about 130 feet of chain. We expected the current to keep us in line, parallel to the shore, but the wind blew us around. We went right to the edge of the allowed alarm circle and stayed there all night. Even after the wind died, we stayed nearly perpendicular to the shore. The effect on the boat of wind and current is often mysterious and unexpected. A good reason to set our anchor in a location with enough space to swing in a full circle.We tested the spotlight after it got dark. It had been replaced, along with its controller, in the spring, but we do not travel after dark, so we have never used it. It was likely that we were going to need it during the J.T.Meyer lock delay, hence the testing.

The anchor monitor showing Nine Lives right at the edge of the permitted circle before the alarm sounds.

The next morning, we had another early start, with over 70 miles to go and one lock. It was 61 degrees and misty, although there was plenty of visibility. As we headed down the river, I had shoes on, a windproof long-sleeved shirt over my usual t-shirt, and my fleece-lined vest (gilet) draped over my knees. Dick, on the other hand, had just his usual t-shirt, shorts, and bare feet, and was perfectly comfortable. I am not complaining – I will take those temperatures over 90F any day!

September on the Ohio River south of Brandenburg

We saw a pair of bald eagles fishing. An interesting observation, any bald eagles I have seen perched on trees on the Ohio River have been well down in the branches, among the leaves and hard to spot. On the Mississippi, they seemed to prefer the top of a dead tree, well above the canopy. Perhaps this is learned behaviour from parents?

I have spent the last week looking for flamingoes. Yes, flamingoes. Apparently, they were blown far north by hurricane Idalia, and have been seen outside Pittsburgh! Naturalists are sure that once they recover from the journey, and are feeling less stressed, they will have no problem making their way south before winter. So far all I have seen are a few great egrets, and the expected great blue herons.

This was the same two-day stretch of pretty but all the same scenery, that we found so boring when we travelled upstream. Add to that, little and patchy mobile signal, so I couldn’t even keep up with the Marine Traffic app that lets me see what commercial shipping (tows) are coming up.

The time zone changed from Eastern to Central, so the long day became an hour shorter. Yes, I know that’s an illusion, but as far as I am concerned, we expected to stop at 4:30 and instead it was 3:30!

We passed Mason’s Lighthouse Landing Castle, a stone folly built by hand over a period of 15 years. It is now a wedding venue. It’s called Mason’s Landing, but there is no place for any boat to dock or even beach.

At Cannelton Lock we were treated to a demonstration of how not to lock through a USACE commercial lock. Start by waking the pleasure boat as you rush to get past and into the lock first. No life jackets (USACE rules state that they are mandatory for everyone on board). No lines, holding on by hand only. Let go before the locking is finished. Exit before the horn goes, before the doors are even open. Start fishing in the lock channel, forcing the much larger pleasure boat to detour around.

Guys in a fishing boat demonstrate how NOT to go through a commercial lock

We were anchored by 3:15 behind Anderson Island, a little closer to the shore than I was happy about. All was well though. Overnight there was little motion from tows, and the slight breeze did not move us much against the current. We were up anchor and underway by 8am.

We passed American Heritage, a passenger cruise ship at Henderson.

American Heritage, early morning at Henderson

As we headed downriver, we discussed various options for the J.T.Meyers lock. Readers may remember that I mentioned in the last issue that they are operating only the small chamber while repairs are made to the large chamber. This means that any large tows have to split, requiring a 3-hour transit instead of the usual 1-hour. Dick spoke to the lockmaster and was advised that a downbound pleasure craft will only be passed through when they transition from upbound to downbound, and the helper tow repositions. When a tow splits, the first half of the barge train is pushed in and uncoupled from the rest of the train, and then when those barges have been lifted or dropped, the helper tow pulls them out of the lock. The lock is then turned around (i.e. filled or emptied), and the remaining barges, plus their tow, go through and are reunited with the rest of the waiting barges. Hence the need to reposition the helper tow. It is faster overall to run a series of waiting tows in one direction, and then change, than to follow the normal procedure of one up and then one down. The only other option for us, would have been if there was a short tow (although not a chemical barge), who would agree to share the lock with us.

The lockmaster Dick spoke to said that no appointment could be made. Instead, we should get to the lock as early as possible, and we would then be added to the queue to go through, either with a short tow, or, more likely, with the helper tow the next time they change from upbound to downbound. We can look online at what is called the “Queue Report”, to get a sense of how many tows are waiting, and their size. (As it happens, Dick does this anyway, even when there are not extraordinary circumstances).

We were scheduled to stay in Evansville overnight, but it is 5 hours’ travelling time from there to the J.T.Meyers lock. One option is to leave at first light (6am), and run fast to get there as soon as possible. Another option would be to stop briefly in Evansville, just to take on fresh water, and then run south using the remaining daylight and anchor close to the lock. Another critical consideration would be having good cell phone service. A Looper, who came up a few days previously, reported that they waited 9 hours, and went through in the dark, but they had no phone service where they waited below the lock. They could see later that they had missed 2 phone calls. It is possible that they were being called forward and did not know.

A large grain terminal at Owensboro, the first we have seen on the Ohio River although they were common on the Mississippi

We passed Scuffletown Island, all that is left on the map of the former city of Scuffletown. It was a notorious stop for the captains and crews of the flatboats that plied the river during the 19^th century. After a few hours of getting liquored up, fights would break out between the crews, so the city got its name. It was mostly destroyed in the floods of 1913, and the subsequent flood of 1937 finished the job.

We were asked to float free in the main chamber of Newburgh Lock because so many of the floating pins are broken. Not our preference, having done it a couple of times on the Mississippi, we prefer to be secured. I rushed to put out our remaining fenders on the port side (we were already rigged for starboard), just in case we bumped the lock sides, but it was a very gentle drop of only 18 feet and all was well.

As we approached Evansville, I took the helm, and Dick got onto his computer to check the lock queues for J.T.Meyers lock. It appeared that after the then current upbound tow, there were no others waiting, and many in line to go down. There would be no point in rushing to get there, only to have to wait for many hours. We decided that we might as well stay overnight in the marina as planned. We were at the dock by 2:45.

We got up at 5am, and were underway by 6:10, after checking the queue report and consuming our essential morning coffees. Dick had spoken to the lockmaster the evening before, and would call again after he came on shift at 7am.

Dick took a walk around the boat to be sure the running lights are working. This, in addition to our earlier testing of the spotlight, were precautions we hope never to have to use. All boats over a certain length must have and turn on running lights in times of poor visibility. There are slightly differing requirements, depending on size. At the bow, we have a red light on the port side, and a green light on the starboard side. These must be visible from a mile away on a dark, clear night. Above, at the stern, is a white light. This is also our anchor light, visible 360 degrees. The white light must be visible for 2 miles on a dark, clear night.

We ran fast for an hour, to arrive at the lock as early as possible. Conversation with the lockmaster from 5 miles away suggested that it could be a six-hour wait, but we should get close, and he would try to sneak us though. He took Dick’s phone number. We needed to watch for options for anchoring as near to the lock as possible, with good cell service and out of the way of the waiting tows. We arrived at the lock at 10:10, just as the helper tow was pulling the first set of barges out of the lock for the last of the upbound tows in the queue. After the tow brought up the second set of barges and re-attached, we were able to go through the lock with the helper tow. Note that not only does the lockmaster have to arrange this, the captain of the helper tow has to be willing for us to share the lock. We entered the lock at 11:35, so we only waited 85 minutes. We had expected, and been prepared for 6 to 9 hours!

When we arrived at J.T.Meyers lock, we could see the helper tow pulling a set of barges out of the lock. It would be our turn when the rest of the barges and the tow joined them.

In the J.T.Meyers lock with the helper tow

We passed Old Shawneetown, all that remains of what was once an important city. It was a major government administration centre for the Northwest Territory. In 1816, the first bank to be chartered in Illinois started in a log cabin. This bank refused to buy the first bonds issued by the city of Chicago, considering them a poor investment, on the grounds that no city located that far from a navigable river could survive. Chicago’s population was 2.7 million, while Old Shawneetown’s population was 75 in the 2020 census. If you visit Old Shawneetown, you can still see the brick building, one of the first two in the city, that was built to house the bank in 1822.

On an island in the middle of nowhere we passed a johnny-on-the-spot, a very long way from any town. Dick wondered how often it is emptied, and by whom? You know you are on a boring stretch of river when the only thing of interest to photograph is a biffy.

A biffy on an island in the middle of nowhere

We anchored just across the river from Cave in Rock State Park, and below the island, giving us protection from floating debris. We were set by 3:15. After 9 hours underway, it had been a long day. Dick grilled burgers for dinner, then we sat and watched the sunset, except it was cloudy, so there wasn’t one. There weren’t any flamingoes either, just an egret and a few turkey vultures.

Rain started at about 6am, but we were already buttoned up, as it had been forecast. It was the first rain we have seen for nearly 3 weeks. We were anchor up and away before 8am.

We were somewhat surprised to discover that the Smithland lock had both chambers working, so we went straight in. We had expected as much as 4 hours delay. Again, we were asked to float instead of tying off. We arrived in Paducah and were tied up by 1:30, better than the most optimistic forecast Dick had for the day.

New lock gates under construction at Smithland Lock

I know that some of my readers may wonder why we so dislike having to move the boat once we are tied up, as happens on occasion. When we arrive at a dock or marina, I am ready with a line at midship, that I throw over the cleat on the dock, and then secure back on board. I then move to the stern, and the midships line will hold us in place while Dick reverses against it to bring in the stern, where I am ready to throw a second line over a cleat and secure it. Dick can then stop the engines, and the real tying up begins.

Dick gets onto the dock, while I stay aboard, and we first make sure that we are where we want to be with respect to cleats and power pedestals (and possibly other boats). Adjustments are made if required, by pulling on one line, while letting out the other to move us into position. Next, Dick will loosen the midships line, and add a second one to the same deck cleat. One of the lines then goes to a cleat on the dock that is forward, and the other goes aft. Tightened, these lines ensure that the boat does not move forwards or backwards, but still floats independent of the dock.

After putting down fenders as needed, we then take a line from the stern pontoon opposite the dock, across, under the dinghy, and secure that to the dock. The initial short stern line is then removed and stowed for when we leave. A bow line is taken loosely to the dock, just to make sure Nine Lives cannot move farther away from the dock at the front.

The way these lines are set allows the boat to move independently of a floating or fixed dock, without the lines continually snapping tight, which is hard on the cleats, and will eventually fray the lines. We’re not done yet.

Power needs to be connected. The plug is nothing like what one has at home or in a garage. It is a thick, heavy line (or two lines, which in our case are held together in a long brown canvas tube). The ends have 3 prongs, one with a hook on it, that ensures that it can only go one way into the outlet on the power pedestal. Once in, it twists, to lock into place. Often Dick must first brush away spider webs, and he always has to kneel on the dock to fit the cord into the receptacle under the pedestal’s cover. Occasionally, the only way to accomplish this is from a prone position. I am very glad that lying down on a dock with spiders (and splinters if it is a wooden dock), is not part of my share of the boating responsibilities!

Last, and new to our routines this year, location permitting, Dick will attach the water hose to the inlet at the back of the boat. First, he allows the water to run for a while by hosing down Nine Lives’ deck, to ensure that no stale water is going into our tanks.

When we leave, or if we have to move, the whole process, that takes us 20-30 minutes, is done in reverse, although it is much quicker to untie. In addition to not snapping the lines when wakes, or even just the wind, moves the boat around, this way of tying also allows for a change in water depth due to tides. Even on the rivers, the depth may change after heavy rain upstream.

So, if you are still reading after that long explanation, you can understand why we hate being asked to reposition once we are all set!

After a quiet afternoon, we made our way to Cynthia’s, one of our favourite restaurants on the Loop. Dick started with their excellent smoked salmon, and I tried a new offering, tempura shrimp with fried green tomatoes with chopped peppers, tomatoes, and tomatillos. Dick’s main course was bacon wrapped pork tenderloin with a bourbon and honey sauce, and I had the veal scallopini with a wild mushroom and port wine reduction. Desserts completed the meal with the signature flourless chocolate slice for me, and crème brulee for Dick. It was a lovely evening in a beautiful historic setting. For the first time in 4 visits, we are in Paducah with the temperatures in the 70’s, instead of the 90’s, making the walk to and from town a pleasure as well.

Cynthia’s Tempura Shrimp with Fried Green Tomatoes

The next day was all about catching up and laundry. Dick worked on the next few weeks of the voyage, booking marinas and checking fuel prices, while I worked on the blog and the pictures. We were thrown about more than usual by wakes. Paducah has always been subject to a lot of wakes, but this year, on the rivers, there is even more low water than there was last year. There have been complete closures of the Ohio River just above the confluence with the Mississippi, followed by a one-way system for tows. Add to this the partial closure of the J.T.Meyers lock north of Paducah, and there are many more barges and tows sitting on the river around Paducah. For the first time, we have seen crew changes for the tows. A workboat races around, picking up crew and dropping them off, before heading to the next meeting point for more. This workboat has powerful outboard engines, and follows the usual Ohio River custom of completely ignoring docked vessels, throwing huge wakes from very close to us.

I won’t be writing much about the city of Paducah this time, as it is our 4th visit, and I have written in past years.

Nine Lives, alone on the dock at Paducah

The waterfront park at Paducah. If you understand that the high flood wall that protects the town is built above the rise on the left of the picture, you can get a sense of just how high the Ohio River waters can be when it floods.

Paducah’s flood wall has many beautiful murals depicting the history of the city.

In the evening, we decided to give Grill 211 another try. We had a less than stellar experience on our first visit to Paducah, but reviews were very positive recently, so we made a reservation. As we walked through the park, I pointed out to Dick that I was wearing a new outfit. I had chosen a new, black and white sleeveless top, with black trousers, and a white sun shirt. Dick paused to look (many years of marriage ensures that as long as there is a vague shape next to him, who speaks with a familiar voice, nothing else is noticed). His immediate comment was, “oh yeah, you look like a referee!” Later he tried to row back a little by complimenting my choice of matching onyx and jet jewellery, but it was far too late for flattery!

Our thoughts about Grill 211 are mixed. The setting is what we always enjoy, a historic building, repurposed. The mixed tile floor and the brick walls were particularly interesting, and I love to imagine all the things those walls and floors have witnessed over the years. The menu seemed a bit odd for a steak house, with several Thai curries, and other items that were definitely Asian, as opposed to fusion cuisine. We had not been able to look at the menu earlier, because the restaurant has only a facebook presence, with no information or menus. The steaks were tasty, but not the expected restaurant quality. What made it worse was the truly dreadful, cheap plastic steak knives, that were unable to effectively cut the vegetables, let alone the meat. A poor steak knife always makes the meat seem tough. The restaurant was nearly empty, where Cynthias had been hopping the night before.

We will be giving Freight House another try this evening. It was a disappointing experience last year, but they seem to have upped their game somewhat and it is now the top-rated fine dining restaurant in Paducah. We have booked the tasting menu (48 hours notice required), and we are interested to see how it compares to the tasting menus we enjoy in UK.

August 18 to 31, Pittsburgh to Cincinnati

Our departure from Pittsburgh was a little tricky. That morning, my slightly sore hip that began the evening before was much worse. Cause likely to be too much sitting still and not enough fluids the previous day. I was almost completely incapacitated, so Dick had to single-hand Nine Lives to the pump out machine. It was quite a challenge, with the strong current pushing us onto the dock, not to mention having to step carefully around the copious goose poop. The power pedestal ended up with a slightly greater lean than it already had (bad positioning, right on the edge of the dock and too close to the pump out machine, we were not the first to nudge it!) Apart from that, the maneuver was well executed. As we initially pulled away from our docking position, and turned around to come back to the pump out, I looked up and saw that we had an audience of about 10 construction workers from the high-rise going up above the waterfront, all standing at the railings watching us. Sometimes, you’re the audience, sometimes, you’re the show! Fortunately, we were out of their sight for the minor pedestal mishap.

By the time we arrived at the first lock of the day, I was able to drive the boat in as usual, and bring it to the wall for Dick to handle the long line. However, Dick had to do all my usual tasks with fenders, moving them and deploying them, as well as bringing them in after the lock. He got a small taste of what single-handing and/or a non-participating spouse would be like. (We have met a surprising number of Looper couples who divide up the responsibilities in such a way that the lady has almost no involvement in any aspect of boat handling, certainly that would never be our preference).

We passed the Shell Ethylene Cracker Plant. Dick said they were just completing this plant when he retired. It was built in Pennsylvania rather than Texas, because of all the cheap gas available from Utica and Marcella Shales fracking operations. It is good to see new industry on the Ohio, after so many abandoned and derelict factories.

We got through 3 locks and tied up in the marina in Chester, with Dick doing all the work except for maneuvering in the locks. Holiday Marina is a nice small marina, set in a basin off the river, so very little wakes to bother us. There is lots of grass, and several pavilions and grills for the use of boaters. It is also a small RV site, and has immaculate and spacious shower/rest rooms. We had been happy with our stay on the upbound journey.

As we sat enjoying the evening, one of the occupants of an RV made his way down to us and welcomed us back. He likes chatting with transient boaters, especially Loopers. In addition to offering to lend us a car to get groceries or run errands, he mentioned that he had hoped to invite us to breakfast on our last visit, but we had already left early that morning.

He told us an interesting story, that we had entirely missed because we were sitting facing away from the river. Earlier, he and his wife had seen a car sink near the shore across the other side of the Ohio River. The man’s wife called the police to report it, and got the story. Apparently, a couple had a snapping turtle in a cooler, that they were trying to release unharmed into the river. The man backed his SUV down to the water, and planned to gun the engine forward with the back open, so the cooler would open and the turtle fall into the water. Unfortunately, he mistakenly put the vehicle into reverse, and when he stamped on the accelerator, the SUV went straight backwards into the water at speed. It sank. Fortunately, the windows were open, so the couple were able to get out and swim to shore. No word on the fate of the turtle. Attempts to retrieve the vehicle by emergency services had not succeeded by the time it got dark.

We had plenty of time the next morning, with a short distance and only one lock, so Dick was busy with his computer when he discovered the sad demise of his HP41CX calculator. He had it for the better part of 40 years. It was working fine until the previous day when Dick reached behind him and it leapt off the shelf and down the stairs, a drop of about 6 feet. The landing proved to be too much for the venerable machine. Dick particularly liked that calculator for its sophisticated engineering functions. Not to mention that the Reverse Polish Notation method of use is so obscure (IMHO) that there was no possibility that his light-fingered wife would abscond with it! I offered him a basic solar powered calculator that I found in a cupboard, but it was soundly rejected in favour of using the one on his phone. R.I.P HP41CX.

Once Dick recovered from his tragic loss, we set off for the day, still with Dick having to do all my line and fender handling jobs. Unfortunately, we arrived at the lock as it was being prepared for an up-bound tow, and there was a 15-barge tow just behind us, who had priority. Altogether, it took over 4 hours before we were through. It was our first real delay since we started on the Ohio and waited at our first lock for 4 hours, so we can’t complain. Most of the Ohio locks have two chambers, a large one and a smaller one. We are generally put through the small chamber, and usually with no delay, but at this lock the small chamber is out of operation. We have heard that the last two locks we will encounter on the Ohio are using only their small chamber while the large ones undergo repairs. This will likely mean very long delays for us, as the tows will have to split to go through, and thus will take twice as long. We use an app called Nebo. It has various useful functions, including allowing anyone to track us or see where we are at any given time. We have a device installed on Nine Lives, that automatically starts tracking when it senses motion. This is designated as a “journey”, and it ends the journey when we stop. Our Nebo track for the day showed an amusing number of stops, as Dick maneuvered and held position in front of the lock while we waited for our turn.

Waiting for the lock, each red flag represents a “journey” started, so each time we stopped moving while we waited, a new “journey” began

I have been noticing that all summer we have been passing loaded barges with coal, going in both directions. This day, we saw some loaded barges with a clear difference in the piles of coal. Dick tells me that there are several kinds of coal, but in this country the two most used are bituminous, and anthracite. Bituminous coal is common coal used in power plants, while anthracite is a harder coal, considered a metallurgical coal, and is typically used in steel manufacture. Anthracite is the highest quality, and has fewer impurities, which is important for use in steel making.

Barges carrying coal, note that some of the coal is different

We passed through Wheeling, with its historic bridge. For a short time, it was the largest suspension bridge in the world. When it was built in 1849, it was the first bridge to cross a major river west of the Appalachians. A bridge to cross the Ohio River and connect the important National Road (also known as the Cumberland Road) was first proposed in 1816, but it took many years before a bridge was actually built. Different cities wanted a bridge, the federal government didn’t want to fund it, and neither did any of the states. By 1847, with mail being lost and commerce disrupted, Ohio and West Virginia agreed to approve a suspension bridge. It was immediately controversial, because the steamboats that carried goods and passengers up and down the Ohio had tall smokestacks, that were continually increasing in height. By 1849 the objections reached the Supreme Court, with lawyers for Pennsylvania claiming that the new bridge was a nuisance that obstructed commerce on the river. At the time, there was considerable dispute over whether river transport was a federal or a state matter. By 1850, when the case was finally heard, the Court refused to require the bridge to be torn down, instead it ordered that the height above the water be raised to 118 feet. The bridge company was allowed to “study” the concept of a removable portion rather than attempting to raise the entire bridge. Arguments, court cases, and accusations continued after the bridge deck was destroyed during a windstorm in 1854. It was rebuilt in spite of injunctions. Ultimately, it became a non-issue, as the increasing power of the railroads destroyed the steamboat business, and the Federal government found that having bridges over major rivers was in its favour, both for mail delivery, and for movement of military supplies and troops. Because the bridge was designed for horse and buggy traffic, it is unable to safely handle the weights of modern-day vehicles, whether it be volume of car traffic, or heavily loaded trucks. Attempts were made to limit weight on the bridge, but drivers continuously ignored the limits. For this reason, the bridge was closed to vehicular traffic in 2019. It remains open to pedestrians and cyclists, and will be preserved due to its historic importance. As we passed under it, we could see that it is currently undergoing renovations.

Last month, when we were northbound, passing Weirton, a fellow in the marina hailed us on the radio and invited us to stop there. As Dick prepared the itinerary for our return trip, he couldn’t find a phone number or email address, so we just cruised close to the docks and called out to a member who was there working on his boat. He made a phone call, and we were all set, with power and water as well! After giving us time to get settled, Steve came on board for some beer and chat. In due course we were joined by his wife and also his mother. I got out cheese and charcuterie, and made it a proper docktails. Later the commodore and his son the dockmaster dropped by as well to welcome us. It was a delightful evening, and we hope to see Steve and his wife in a few years on the Loop in the trawler he is currently restoring.

I have discovered an interesting thing about the Ohio River. Notwithstanding the name, and contrary to normal usage when a river forms the border between states, no part of the Ohio River belongs to Ohio. This has been a matter of debate since the 1700s, with the most recent challenge from Ohio in 1980 (they lost again). In 1783, the Ohio River was fully within the commonwealth of Virginia, which encompassed the land as far west as what is now Illinois and north to Wisconsin, including all of today’s Ohio, West Virginia, and Kentucky. In 1784, Virginia ceded its territory that was “to the northwest of the river Ohio”, but not any of the river, with the boundary being the low-water mark on the western bank of the Ohio River. This border was made under the Articles of Confederation, and carried over under the Constitution. Ohio tried to take some of the river when it became a state, by claiming that the state boundary should be in the middle of the river (as it is in most states where the border is a river). However, the Supreme Court ruled against them. Ownership of the River transferred to West Virginia, when they seceded from Virginia, and when Kentucky became a state, it also got its part of the River. Even when the River changed its route, moving north into Ohio, the state lost a claim to change the boundary. Still today, if you fish from the Ohio side of the river, you must follow West Virginia fishing regulations, or those of Kentucky. I find myself wondering about other things, like docks, that extend into the river, whether property owners need permission from Kentucky or West Virginia. Not to mention using river water for various industrial or agricultural purposes.

We passed the Cardinal Power Plant, planned to be converted to natural gas by 2030. Next door is a fly ash plant. Cardinal was ordered by the EPA to stop storing fly ash in waste ponds (chemicals and metals leak into the river). Fly ash can be used in the manufacture of concrete.

There was no wait at the lock, and we were tied up at Prima Marina by 2pm. There was no power suitable for Nine Lives, and no water on the docks, but at $25 it was a reasonable charge for overnight dockage. The evening meal was decent, mostly basket food, hamburgers, and chicken dishes, with a few more upmarket choices. All the food was served piping hot, which I always appreciate in this country, and don’t always get. Dick’s broiled whitefish was a nice change, and I enjoyed a grilled ham and cheese sandwich.

We returned to the boat, and worked in the salon while we waited for the evening entertainment to begin. This was a local singer, playing guitar and harmonica. When we realized he had started, we followed our usual practice and sat in the cockpit with adult beverages, ready to enjoy the music. It was awful. After a truly dreadful composition of his own, the singer moved on to Jimmy Buffet b-sides. One would hope that someone being paid to entertain would show at least some skill with their guitar, and be able to sing in tune. Eventually we decided that we couldn’t stand the butchery of what are very nice songs and ballads, so we repaired to the salon.

At this point we realized that the cool weather, welcome though it was, did not work in our favour. With no need for air conditioning, we opened the hatches and windows for air flow, and were then treated to the so-called music we had escaped! The finale was an appalling version of Country Roads, the song that begins, “Almost heaven, West Virginia…” The poor man couldn’t come close to hitting the high notes. The set ended, then to our dismay, an impromptu singalong began, with the participating audience every bit as bad. We hope that our previous positive experiences with live music have not come to an end!

Prima Marina in Moundsville, live entertainment

August 20. We passed the Marshall County Mine Barge Loading Facility, with the Mitchell Power Plant next door. I was amazed at the long, covered chute that carries the coal from the Powhattan Mine, situated well inland, to the docks.

Marshall County Barge Loading Facility with long coal chute

Bellaire Harbor Services was interesting, with a drydock and many tugs waiting for service, or possibly waiting for hire.

We had wondered several times about the lids that cover some of the barges. We could see that they were all the same, as the barges are standardized, but we couldn’t figure out how the lids would get onto the barges. At last, that small mystery was solved when we saw a crane with a special attachment placing lids onto a waiting barge.

now we know how the lids get onto the barges

It was a short day, leaving Prima Marina at 9:20 and tied up on the free town dock at New Martinsville by 1:15. This with a 30-minute delay for the lock. The town has very clean, wide docks, with good rubber and cleats. I was nervous because of the request that you advise the Police Department if you will be staying overnight. The only other place we have seen that is a notoriously unsafe stop on the Illinois. In fact, the clean docks and surroundings meant that, after all, I felt quite safe. We were out of sight of the streets, which probably also helped. Several pleasure boats docked for a while and people visited the town. We needed the generator for the first half of the night for air conditioning, but the outside temperature dropped enough that Dick could turn it off later and it was a very peaceful night.

A charming coffee shop and pub in New Martinsville, sadly closed on Mondays, but we met and chatted with the owners

Looking across the River in early morning in New Martinsville

The stop was only slightly marred by discovering in the morning, that the two teenage boys who had been fishing on the docks when we retired for the night, had left plastic bags, empty drinks bottles, and takeaway cartons on the end of the dock, ready to be blown into the river. Dick often picks up trash on docks and town walls. Young people accuse us of destroying their future with the use of fossil fuels, yet they are using the rivers as a trash dump for plastics that will never disappear, and are damaging the very fish they are trying to catch.

I learned that Western Pennsylvania’s version of the South’s y’all, or Southern Ontario youse, is yinz. Interesting!

We arrived at Marietta Boat Club by 1:45, but unfortunately, although we were expected, there was nobody to tell us where to dock. Our instructions had been to tie up at the fuel dock, and find somebody. It was hot, humid, and no breeze, so we had to run the generator. Eventually, we were able to move to a spot, but after we were tied up, we were told that a mistake had been made, and we would have to move after 2 nights. Once we were finally settled, we dropped the dinghy for the first time this season. The motor started immediately, such a difference from the old one!

We went to dinner by dinghy. The Boat Club is about a mile up the Muskingum River from the Ohio. There is a concrete dock on the Ohio at the foot of downtown. It was very hot and humid, so getting to the restaurant by dinghy was a lot nicer than riding bikes, even though there is a good bike path.

Austyns proved to be an excellent choice of restaurants. The food was a delicious combination of innovation and familiarity in a sort of Asian fusion style. We shared 2 appetizers. Prosciutto wrapped shrimp with a spicy remoulade sauce was very good. Spring rolls stuffed with glass noodles and crab were quite unique. Dick had a pasta dish with mixed seafood in a red pepper cream sauce with a filet of mahi mahi on top. I opted to try another starter instead of a main-sized course. Beef tips, marinated in truffle oil, and served in a delicious fondue of several cheeses was outstanding. For dessert, we shared an interesting Bailey’s chocolate cake that was just the right size, and not dreadfully sweet.

The next day was laundry day again. We have a Splendide washer/dryer on board. It is a typical European-sized machine, so with quite a small capacity compared to large American appliances. However, I don’t need to find a laundromat, deal with quarters, or schlepp laundry back and forth in hot, humid weather, as I would in marinas that have a facility. I can stay on the boat (or go out if I wish), and be comfortable instead of sitting in the laundromat. I find that once I sort the clothes, my loads are similar in size to what I would have at home –it’s only sheets and towels that I have to split into smaller amounts. The dryer is slow – a typical load takes 80 minutes on medium heat (the hot setting is too hot and will damage the fabrics). I hang most clothes to dry except socks and underwear anyway, so no difference in that respect from at home. There is always a debate among boaters, whether or not to look for a boat with a washer/dryer. I have noticed that most women tend to be in favour, while men (who, let’s be honest, are not usually the ones doing the laundry), are against. One does have to get over the idea of smaller loads and long drying times, but anyone I have met who has one, would never choose the laundromat again.

I carried on with the laundry while Dick prepared, and then recorded, a podcast he was asked to do for AGLCA about our trip up the Mississippi last year. The podcast is now available on U-Tube, and has been well received.

In the evening it was another pleasant dinghy ride to the dock at the foot of the town. The restaurant was quite a contrast to the previous evening. It was full, even thought it was Tuesday, but it was an entirely different demographic, with nobody I could see under 50-years old. The food was good, but not exceptional.

In the morning, we lost about 2 hours out of our day while we moved Nine Lives to a different spot on the docks. Since we had to untie anyway, we decided to do the pump out then, instead of the day we left. The pump out machine had some quirks, and Dick stood there for nearly half an hour thinking it was a very weak machine before discovering the technique for making it actually pump. We slid Nine Lives into her new, shorter, spot very professionally, sadly without anyone around to appreciate our skills.

Indigenous cultures lived along the Ohio River for thousands of years. Some of them built large mounds, for purposes that are not fully understood, but are thought to be connected to cosmology and astronomical events. Moundsville is one location, and there are 3 large mounds in Marietta, known as Marietta Earthworks. 19^th century settlers in Marietta preserved what was known as the Great Mound, by putting their cemetery around it. By 1900, the Mound Cemetery had the highest number of burials of Revolutionary War officers in the United States. At the close of the Revolutionary war, officers were given grants of land, and George Washington particularly favoured the Marietta area for land grants. The location of the town at the confluence of two navigable rivers, ensured its commercial success, and we can see from the beautiful old buildings downtown that this was a very prosperous city in the 19^th century. Oil was first drilled in Marietta in 1860, and succeeding oil booms added to the wealth of the town. The longest running, and until recently the only, ferromanganese refinery in the United States is located in this city. Ferromanganese is used as a deoxidizer in the steel making process. We would have loved to be here for the Sternwheeler Festival, an annual event since 1976. As many as 35 authentic steam driven sternwheelers are expected to participate. We have noticed that there seem to be a lot more sternwheelers, both commercial and in private hands, on the Ohio River, than we saw last year on the Mississippi. Some have been lovingly restored, while some are just sad relics of a bygone age.

Historic sternwheelers docked in Marietta. One is a museum, others are still operating as tour boats on the Ohio River

Dick enjoyed a day of exploration and a little grocery shopping, while I continued with the laundry. The man on the boat next to us came over to chat, very friendly, and offered us the use of his car.

Another pleasant dinghy ride took us to the courtesy dock at the foot of Harmar, the small town across the Muskingum River from Marietta. It is a well-preserved historic village, with some beautiful old houses and storefronts. One of the properties is occupied by someone with a sense of humour. Instead of a bottle tree in the garden, they have a bicycle tree, with a number of bicycles hanging from the branches.

A bicycle tree beside a historic building in Harmar

Spagna’s was a good meal. We shared pepperoni rolls and stuffed mushrooms. My lobster mac and cheese was improved by not having crumbs on top, but for my taste, there was not nearly enough sauce. Dick liked his lasagna. We shared a very tasty lemon cake for dessert. For a change from bubbly, I started the meal with a local Manhattan. It was a very generous pour (something that does not happen in UK, where the number of ounces in a drink is strictly regulated). In fact, it was such a good pour, that after that and a glass of wine, I felt decidedly merry. Not so much that I was at risk of an impromptu swim when we returned to the dinghy though.

Stuffed mushrooms and pepperoni rolls at Spagna’s

We stopped to have a look at the Harmar Bridge. This was originally a wooden, covered bridge, constructed for use by pedestrians as well as horse and buggies by the Marietta and Cincinnati Railroad in 1856. 18 years later, rails were added, and it was converted to use as a railroad bridge. A swing span was added to the Harmar side in 1880, to allow larger boats to pass under it. Destroyed and reconstructed several times over the next 20 years due to floods, it was converted to an iron bridge in 1900. The Great Flood of 1913 took out all spans of the bridge except from the swing part, as well as the train that had been put on it to try to anchor it down against the floodwaters. The bridge was rebuilt, and some years later the swing section was moved to the Marietta side. Closed for rail traffic in 1968, the pedestrian walkway was left open until it became unsafe, and it was fully closed in 2020. Efforts continue to raise enough money to rebuild and preserve the historic edifice.

Historic bridge between Harmar and Marietta, sadly derelict.

We enjoyed our stay in Marietta, although we could have wished for a less chaotic arrival and a more friendly welcome from other boaters, something we have enjoyed at several boat clubs on the trip so far.

It rained all night, and was still raining the next morning. That means wet lines, and my particular dislike, wet gloves. Disdaining his waterproof jacket, Dick filled the water tanks and retrieved the dinghy, and we prepared to cast off. I was glad to wear my jacket, plus a hat! Visibility was good in spite of the rain.

It was an uneventful day, with only a slight delay at the lock to allow a big tow to get into the main chamber. We anchored behind Buffington Island, where we stopped on our northbound trip, by 3:15. The owner of the land where we anchored stopped on his boat to chat. He was a nice guy, even offering us the use of his fully plumbed outhouse if we needed it!

I made shrimp sandwiches again for our dinner. Cooked shrimp are chopped and melted butter with crushed garlic is poured over them. A mixture of mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, chopped chives, celery, lemon juice, and lemon zest is then stirred into the shrimp and the bowl is chilled. The remaining garlic butter is brushed on the inside of the rolls, and they are toasted, and lined with butter lettuce and then the shrimp is added. We will definitely be making these sandwiches again.

Our night was mostly quiet and peaceful, but thunderstorms woke us at about 5am. There was little wind, but enough to turn us a full 360 degrees several times, as the current was not strong enough to hold us straight in the channel. We later learned that others had a pretty wild night, with strong winds and lashing rain, and some areas were without power by morning. Obviously, the island was a great place to have stopped. We were away before 8:30. The anchor came up easily, and the rain stopped.

A bridge under repair south of Marietta. Bridge work requires a strong stomach and no fear of heights!

We passed Blennerhassett Island, now a Historical State Park, served by an authentic sternwheeler ferry. The island was settled in 1789 by Harmon and Margaret Blennerhassett, wealthy Irish aristocrats who were fleeing what is described as political persecution and personal scandal. Call me cynical, but I suspect a lot more of the latter than the former! Their mansion became the headquarters for Aaron Burr’s military expedition to the Southwest in 1805. The Blennerhassetts fled the island when Burr’s treasonous plot collapsed, but the mansion remains. It has been reconstructed, and volunteers in period costumes show visitors around and describe what it was like to live there in its heyday.

Blennerhassett Ferry, an authentic sternwheeler

A glimpse of the mansion at Blennerhassett Island

As we approached the lock, slowing down to allow a big tow to exit towards us from the big chamber, we saw that it was carrying an unusual load. It was a huge cylinder. We have no idea what it was, Dick is not prepared even to hazard a guess! Once we were in the lock, the doors took a long time to close. I suspect the lockmaster was allowing time for another tow to enter the large chamber. When it was finally time to exit, they only opened one gate. At this point I relinquished my position at the helm. Nine Lives fits through one door with space to spare, but I prefer not to be the one responsible in that situation!

We have no idea what that huge thing is!

A classic old pleasure boat on the Ohio north of Gallipolis

Steam from the Gavin Power Plant was visible for miles. It is the largest coal-fired facility in Ohio, and one of the largest in the USA. In 2002, to avoid lawsuits relating to air pollution, the operating company decided to buy out the residents of the nearby village of Cheshire, by offering 3.5 times more than the market value of their homes. The plant has been using unlined pits to store its fly ash, and was denied a permit to continue. In November 2022, it was ordered to stop dumping coal ash into the ponds, and speed cleanup of the site. This is such a big project that in order to comply the plant would probably need to be shut down. The company had 135 days to comply, but they were also allowed to present arguments against shutting down because of the effect on the grid.

Kyger Creek Power Plant is immediately next door. This plant is older, built in 1955 to service the Portsmouth Gaseous Diffusion Plant, a uranium enrichment plant. When that plant was shut down, the Kyger Power Plant had to begin selling its power on the open market. In 2019, customers of First Energy were ordered to pay extra to subsidize the plant. This scheme was part of a public corruption scheme revealed by the Department of Justice a year later. We could see that both plants are still operating, and while the steam coming out of the cooling towers looked appropriately clean, the smoke from the tall stacks was tinged with brown, suggesting that not all pollution mitigation measures are working as well as one would wish.

We tied up in the town of Gallipolis by 2:30, on a very good town dock, with even some rubber to preserve Nine Lives’ delicate hull. Dick had chosen a restaurant, but it was a bike ride away. When he went out for his usual recce, he discovered that this is the most bike-unfriendly town we have visited. There are no useful bike paths, and the streets are busy and lined with parked cars, forcing you to ride in traffic. Further investigation of closer dining options suggested that this would be a night to eat on board.

The history of Gallipolis is more about failure than success. It began with a group of 500 French aristocrats, merchants, and artisans, who were fleeing the French Revolution. They were sold land in Gallipolis along the Ohio River by the Scioto Company. On arrival, they discovered that Scioto Company had no right to sell the land, and their deeds were worthless. Eventually, the settlers were granted land nearby, but with a proviso that they had to live and farm the land for 5 years before they could sell it. They were city people, and not prepared for farming life in undeveloped America. Many of them had to buy the land they thought they owned from the Ohio Company in order to settle in Gallipolis. In 1967, the Silver Bridge, which I wrote about earlier, that connected Gallipolis to Point Pleasant, collapsed. The city is still a bedroom community, with employment at nearby power stations, healthcare providers, and universities.

We were visited by a man who had seen us on our northbound trip, and had looked us up online. I sent him a note that morning, and he stopped by to say hello. He didn’t have time to join us for a beer, but we did enjoy a nice chat.

Once it started to get dark, I felt the least safe of any of our free docks so far. There were a great many young men driving up and chatting with each other before driving away again. Dick tells me that not everyone is a criminal or a drug dealer, and I guess in a small town, there are limited options for the young on a Friday night, but I was not very happy. All was well however, nobody bothered us, and it was a quiet night apart from rocking from occasional tows. The next morning there was a town employee picking up rubbish in the parking lot, even though it was the weekend – more towns should do this! Later, a group of ladies gathered and seemed to be enjoying themselves in a Zumba class.

rubbish pickup after a Friday night on Gallipolis waterfront

After a big breakfast, we were underway by 9:30 for a short journey to Huntington. The drop in the lock was considerably less than the expected 23’, and below the lock we could see that the trees at the edge of the banks were in the water. There was also almost 2 knots more current than the previous day. All this would have been the aftermath of Thursday’s big storm.

Trees in the water, higher than usual water on the Ohio River above Huntington

We docked in Huntington by 2:30pm. This time, we went for the lower, upstream wall, where there were good cleats (the downstream wall we had docked at before had widely spaced bollards). It was very shallow, to the extent that the depth finder stopped registering, but docking was made easy by a fellow boater who caught the lines. There was a festival going on, so we had a big audience. Both the boater who caught our lines, and another one who tied up later, warned us that it was shallow, but Dick felt that with the higher water we would be fine.

Huntington is the second largest city in West Virginia. Federal money for urban renewal in the 1970’s resulted in the tearing down of many of the beautiful old downtown buildings, and replacing them with ugly concrete boxes. An attractive downtown shopping centre is quite lively, with many shops and restaurants, but another effort to convert an old railway station to a venue for artisans and coffee shops has not been a success. The Huntington greater metropolitan area spans 3 states and 7 counties. I read that the port, called The Port of Huntington Tri-State, is the second busiest inland port in the United States. Industries include coal, oil, chemicals, and steel. The city’s beginnings were rooted in the railway business, from its beginning as the western terminus of the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway. The railroad expanded east, and west, and after several mergers, it is now CSX Transportation. Huntington was the second American city to use electric streetcars. Today, the largest employers include Marshall University, a hospital and medical centre, Amazon, and Direct TV, as well as the City itself.

We had a wonderful evening. We booked a meal at 21 The Frederick, a historic hotel that has been sympathetically converted to luxury rental apartments. We wandered around the lobby and admired the beautifully preserved period surroundings. This is the top fine dining restaurant in Huntington. The restaurant décor was an interesting mix of styles, some clearly dating from its heyday in the early 20^th century, some definitely a 60’s unsympathetic makeover, and there was a most extraordinary frieze of golden elephants, of undetermined vintage, around the edge of the room!

The rotunda at 21 The Frederick in Huntington

The hallway, with a display from the former apothecary at 21 The Frederick

Our meal was excellent, the best since Pittsburgh. It is clearly a venue for special nights out.

We both had filet steak and garlic mashed potatoes at 21 The Frederick

Those of my readers who wish to avoid social commentary should now avert your eyes for the next paragraph.

For some time, Dick and I have noticed that some of our generation, many of generation X, and almost all of the next groups seem to lack any sense of respect for the standards of dress for fine dining restaurants. Not the women – they clearly still enjoy the chance to dress up. No, it is the men who continually let the side down and show a complete lack of respect for the establishment, the staff, and the chefs, who go to a lot of trouble to create and present a special night out. Not to mention their dining companions. The US is not the only place. We have seen it in Europe, the Mediterranean, and Britain. However, there is something uniquely North American (yes Canada, you are right up there in this too), in the concept of shorts, t-shirts, and baseball caps as reasonable attire for a fine dining restaurant. On this occasion, there was a group of 12, seated across from me. There were 9 women in the group. Every one was dressed up, and I would say the older lady even had her hair done for the occasion. Of the 3 men, one was very metropolitan sophisticate, but the other two were what we see again and again. Tight cotton t-shirts, baggy cargo shorts, and baseball caps that were not removed. To be fair, one of these men held the chair for his lady. It is a sad lack of respect for appropriate social norms. I suppose some might suggest that these are new social norms. And here endeth the rant.

underdressed fellow (male) diners at 21 The Frederick

back on board, there was a lovely sunset in Huntington

August 27^th. There was rather more excitement in the morning than we wanted. As we had our first cup of coffee, I realized that we were not floating. A leisurely start had been planned, with only a 2-hour trip that day, but we decided to abandon any thoughts of more coffee or breakfast, and see how bad the problem was. We were free at the bow, but firmly aground at the stern. Dick is strong, but he couldn’t push us off. The dinghy adds about 300 lbs to the stern, so we dropped it into the water and brought it alongside, giving us about 2 more inches. With some unpleasant noises from protesting props, Dick managed to wiggle us free. We then put on life jackets in case of mishap, and floated in the middle of the river to bring the dinghy back in and up onto its davits. Ultimately, we were underway by 7:30am. At least the local boaters had left the night before, so we did not have the humiliation of either an audience or an “I told you so”.

Lessons learned – when the depth gauge shows no water below the boat, believe it and back away. When local boaters advise against docking, believe them. When potential problems can be avoided by repositioning, do it, even though it is a big pain once you are set and tied up.

Two hours later, and with no locks to transit, we arrived in Ironton, and tied up at their great floating dock (with plenty of depth).

Ironton began as a centre for the iron industry in 1849. Between 1850 and 1890, it was the biggest producer of iron in the world. At the peak of production, there were more than 90 furnaces in operation, producing high quality iron that was used for warships as well as other industries. When the transition was made away from iron and toward steel, the city lost its economic base. The city has tried hard to attract other industries to the area, but the initiatives were not successful. Ironton is notable for having one of the first professional football teams in the United States. In the early 1930’s, the team was amalgamated with another local team, and was moved to Detroit, renamed the Lions.

The restaurant we had planned to eat at was closed on Sunday. It looked interesting, as it was in an old railway depot. Instead, we went to a local Italian restaurant. Dick liked the food, I did not. Either that makes me a picky eater (Dick’s verdict), or more discerning than my beloved. The first surprise was being told that, as it was Sunday, there could be no wine or cocktails, but beer was okay. That seemed strange, but as Dick said, blue laws tend to be strange anyway. I looked it up. In Ohio, you can serve beer on Sundays without a special license, but for intoxicating beverages (that would be wine and spirits), you need a special license. Who decided that beer is not intoxicating??

Later in the evening a houseboat tied up on the dock below us. In the morning, Jim came along the dock and introduced himself. We had a very pleasant chat. He was taking an elderly, but new to him, houseboat north to Marietta and up the Muskingum to his home. We don’t envy him single-handing through all those manual locks! After a big breakfast, we were on our way by 9:45.

Hanging Rock is a town just south of Ironton. In addition to being known for giving punishing speeding tickets to unsuspecting visiting motorists, it is the location of a former iron mine that had particularly high purity iron. The Hanging Rock Region produced some of the best iron in the United States between 1818 and 1916. The rusted old loading facility is visible just downstream.

Interesting house on the Ohio north of Portsmouth. A house has been built to resemble an old sternwheeler.

Our next stop was a return to the Shawnee Boat Club in Portsmouth. It’s a strange and difficult dock to tie to, set up with small eyebolts with a rusty cable running through them, along the edge of the dock. On our last visit, the dockhand came down and helped us, but he was mowing the grass and did not bother this time. Dick says the system is easier for small boats, especially pontoon boats, but it is a royal pain in the you-know-what for bigger boats. I couldn’t get a boat hook under the cable from above, so Dick had to get off the boat and take the lines off the deck while I held it steady. The system, including the water lines, also create a nasty tripping hazard right at the edge of the dock. Not our favourite stop, but after 4 nights without, we needed water.

Shawnee Boat Club, eyebolts with rusty cable, plus a waterline, run along the edge of the dock

The Shawnee Boat Club is located in Portsmouth. Although I can find no other records of it, a plaque tells us that there was once a canal that ran from Portsmouth north to Cleveland. The Ohio and Erie Canal was built between 1825 and 1832. Boats leaving Cleveland had to climb 500 feet to get to Newark, and then descend 500 feet to Portsmouth and the Ohio River. There were 55 locks on the descending stretch alone. Although there are the remains of a few of the locks, there is no longer any trace of the canal.

Some of the murals in Portsmouth, showing modern industries

another Portsmouth mural, showing many of their historic churches

It was a day with an early arrival and no plans to eat on shore, so I was able to try a new recipe, pork fricassee with mushrooms and artichokes. The first challenge in preparation, was finding that I don’t have a meat mallet on board, to pound the pork pieces into ¼ inch medallions. Being an intrepid cook, I borrowed Dick’s hammer. Once wrapped in two layers of foil, it worked very well. I just had to be careful not to hit too hard, or the head of the hammer would go right through the meat! The dish turned out very well, and was delicious, definitely a keeper. Afterwards we sat in the cockpit and watched the sun set with a postprandial glass of bourbon, since we have left West Virginia and are now back in Kentucky.

Pork fricassee with artichokes and mushrooms

We are seeing more eagles on this stretch than we did on the upbound trip, both mature and juvenile bald eagles, although not as many as we saw on the Mississippi. The wide Ohio River makes it hard to see them unless they fly across, and photographs are out of the question. Considering that bald eagles had disappeared from the Ohio, along with herons and other large birds, this is a good sign.

We tied up at Ripley Boat Club before 3:30. It had been a 60-mile day, but with no locks to delay us. The Boat Club has a long dock with a restaurant. The dock has nice big cleats, freshly painted, so there is now a little blue decorating our black lines. A first time for us, the wooden docks have old tires on the sides, and boats are protected from the black rubber by tarps hanging over them.

Ripley home of abolishionist John P. Parker

The restaurant was very popular, but we had already decided to eat on board, and basket food and burgers were not enough to tempt us. There was some noise from trains across the River, and a few wakes from tows, but it was a mostly quiet night.

August 30^th. We chose an early start, and were out by 8:10, with a lot to do on arrival in Cincinnati and one lock for the day.

We were put through the big chamber, and there is always a bit more motion in that circumstance, but Nine Lives likes going down, so we just swung gently back and forth on the floating bollard at midships, while the fore and aft fenders kept nudging us off the walls. As the gates opened, we saw an opportunistic heron, standing in the gate door, ready for any fish that might be hanging around inside the lock. He watched as we approached, critiquing our lock exiting technique.

Down the river, we saw a barge being loaded at a lime operation. We find it hard to believe that the barge doesn’t sink the way they are loaded!

Loading a barge, note how far down in the water the stern is as they load

Approaching Cincinnati, we passed a still under construction French chateau, and later a beautifully landscaped Moorish-style villa, both high on the hillside with stunning views.

A French style chateau on the hills above the Ohio north of Cincinnati

A home in the style of a Moorish villa, north of Cincinnati

Tower on the Ohio north of Cincinnati, we don’t know what it is for

We were in the marina by 1:15, but stopped for a pump out first. Tied up and all set by 2pm. It was disappointing to find goose poop on the end of our finger pier, staff at the marina should clear it off when a boat is coming in with a reservation. It was nothing like the messes at South Side though, and Dick quickly got rid of all of it as he prepared to fill our water tanks.

Dick collected the rental car we had reserved for our stay in the city. While he was doing that, another boater dropped by to admire Nine Lives. After he learned that we would be here over the weekend, he kindly offered to lend us his car. This is easily the 5^th or 6^th time strangers have made this offer! In Canada, only close relatives typically lend vehicles, and in UK, you have to call your insurance company and add the additional driver before you can lend. However, in the US the insurance is more agreeable.

We had an interesting dinner at a Hungarian restaurant. Having lived in Eastern Europe, we like Hungarian food. We tried a local specialty, Goetta, a pork sausage made with steel cut oats. These were quite spicy. I liked the taste, but not the texture. For his main course, Dick had a combination plate, so he could try their cabbage rolls, goulash, and Hungarian schnitzel. I had an interesting version of Wiener schnitzel with poutine. The schnitzel, gravy, and melted cheese curds were excellent, but as so often happens, the French fries were not very good. Our desserts were delicious.

Combination dinner at Lazlo’s Iron Skillet

Desserts at Lazlo’s, chocolate mousse cake and cherry streudel

We looked for the super blue moon, and eventually found it, but from our location on the boat, it was basically a non-event. We would have had to drive somewhere to view it at its best.

All day and evening, we watched the progress of Hurricane Idalia. Our kind neighbours in Hilton Head took in our balcony furniture for us, as Kathy was out of town. One positive thing that happened, at some point there must have been a brief power outage, because our router was reset. It had stopped working a few days earlier. So I now have my security camera back online and can see what happens in our apartment.

August 31^st. In the morning, we went to Findlay Market, probably the best market we have visited since Ottawa, several years ago. There was a wonderful cheese shop, and we also picked up some treasures of the foodie kind in an international food shop.

In the late afternoon we hosted a most enjoyable docktails. Our guests were Audrey and Ted, truly Looper royalty, who completed their loop in 1998, and still participate regularly in AGLCA events. Ted is also involved with two of the most useful guides for the waterways, Waterway Guide, and Skipper Bob. As a complete contrast, Mike, who also joined us, will start the Loop next week. He and his wife Darlene hope to drop by for some more chat and advice on Saturday. It was an evening with lots of great stories and some good laughs, a great time.

Ted, Mike, and Audrey joined us for docktails

We had been aware of huge delays at one of the locks further south on the Ohio. The large chamber is under repair, and all boats are being put through the small chamber. This requires most tows to split, and go through in two halves, turning what would usually be a one-hour lift or drop, into a minimum of 3 hours for each tow. Also, tows have to avoid each other, so the queue has to be well stretched out. The lock has been reporting delays of as much as 60 hours (yes, six zero), for tows in the queue. Dick called the lock, and explained that we were planning to come through in about 10 days, and asked what procedure we should follow. He was told that no recreational boats would be put through the lock until November. This gave us a couple of days of concern and thinking about options. Fortunately, it seems that the person Dick spoke to, made the assumption that he was a fisherman, and they are indeed refusing all small fishing craft until after work is completed in November. However, we have been advised that yachts, such as ours, will be accepted, and there is a procedure to follow. We will need to call ahead, and make an appointment for a specific time. Since locks operate 24 hours a day, there is a good chance we may be on the River during nighttime hours, something we prefer to avoid. So that is the cliffhanger, the story to be told in the next issue of the blog!

Nine Lives stats and track for her August voyage

August 4 to 17, Morgantown to Pittsburgh

On our last evening in Morgantown we walked to the very nearby Marriott Hotel for dinner at the Bourbon Prime Restaurant. We were pleasantly surprised at how good the food was, as so many hotel restaurants are not up to expectations or the prices charged. Pepperoni rolls were a particular highlight. They are small rolls with pepperoni sausage baked in, topped with parmesan and served with marinara sauce. These were described as a West Virginia specialty. Dick had the prime rib special, and I liked their prime rib sandwich. The chocolate espresso dessert was most unusual and delicious.

Pepperoni Rolls at Bourbon Prime in Morgantown

Bourbon Prime Chocolate espresso dessert

We were away by 9am on the 4^th. Although we had stayed for 3 nights, there was no charge by the city for dockage. In subsequent conversations with other boaters, we learned that the city has essentially abandoned the idea of a properly serviced marina, and the power posts have been disabled and water cut off. Interestingly, there is a sign that advises that additional transient dockage is available just downriver at the city park, however, anyone who tries to stay there for more than one night is moved on by local police.

One of the lock keepers told Dick that this is a good time to be transiting the Monongahela River, as most of the businesses that support the barge traffic are on their summer break. Normally there would be 10-12 tows a day going through the locks, with commensurate delays for pleasure boaters like us.

We were amazed at the huge coal pile at the Fort Martin Power Station. 150 deaths a year are attributed to the fine particles emitted from this plant, in addition to several thousand hospitalizations and illnesses. Gas-fired generating plants produce only 1/10 of the pollutants from coal plants. For the sake of comparison, West Virginia has 175 deaths per year from drunk driving. Much attention is paid to this second statistic, and yet the average person does not seem to have much awareness of the dangers from polluted air and water, in spite of many years of campaigning by concerned organizations. As Dick pointed out, deaths from drunk driving are individual, and usually fairly obvious to pinpoint cause and effect, whereas deaths from air and/or water pollution are less certain. Also, big business has deep pockets and many lawyers, while the average Joe does not.

Fort Martin Power Station with its huge coal pile

Our performance at Point Marion Lock was our worst in quite a while. I miscalculated, and brought Nine Lives too close to the wall too early, so she bounced gently but determinedly off the wall with the fenders. I tried to correct, but then we were too far away from the floating bollard and Dick dropped the line. I had to back up and start again. The next lock went fine and was up to our usual professional standard!

We tied up at Jessop Boat Club. Our first attempt to get into the suggested slip had to be abandoned, as the finger piers were too short for us to be able to get off the boat. Dick turned around and started to back in, but then the helpful dockmaster said that the end dock is longer and would work better for us. Since there was no power at either location, we went for the longer dock. We hoped for a long enough hose to get to the water tap, as we had been 3 days without, and there would not be any the next day. We can go 4, perhaps 5 days without filling the tank, but to do so requires careful management, including navy showers. A navy shower is when you save water by turning off the tap except for an initial wetting down and subsequent rinsing. From my point of view, it takes away all the enjoyment of the shower, plus missing any health benefits of the warm/hot water increasing blood flow.

Dick was able to borrow a long enough hose, and with much to-ing and fro-ing back and forth along the docks, he got the water going. Nine Lives was able to get a nice wash down to get rid of mud from lock walls and the evidence of an incontinent bird, plus having the water tanks filled.

In the evening we walked up to the onsite restaurant. The food was quite good of its kind (baskets, burgers, chicken wings). The Boat Club is a popular gathering spot, with over 600 members. We met one or two people and enjoyed chatting. A recently installed water slide has proved very popular with members, allowing the children to be well occupied while the adults socialize.

The next morning, as he was making the coffee, Dick noticed that he was feeling a bit of a draft. He discovered that his venerable Tilley shorts had a tear over 8” long. Sparing his blushes, I did not try to photograph the wardrobe malfunction. Like, many men, Dick prefers to keep comfortable clothes, no matter how well-worn or faded they may be, until disaster strikes!

Along the river, we passed a beautifully landscaped home on the waterfront. Interestingly, all the terracing is accomplished with old tires. A laudable effort at recycling, but we can’t help but wonder about chemicals leaching into the soil, and of course the river, as the tires age and the rubber deteriorates.

We also passed a plant that constructs new barges. There was one just completed, waiting on the rails to be slid down into the river. Chip tells us that they only launch on certain weekdays, so we did not have the opportunity to see one launched, it would have been fascinating!

We tied up on the wall at Monongahela Aquatorium. It was a very rough wall, with a part sticking out at the top about 15 inches, so mooring required careful use of lots of fenders. Two other large boats chose the low floating docks, but we felt the wall was a better bet for Nine Lives. It was a busy afternoon as boats gathered for the evening concert. Some anchored, some just drifted on the river, and a few rafted up once the wall and the floating docks were filled up. Rafting up means that after one boat is either anchored or tied up to a dock or wall, another boat will come alongside, and with lots of fenders on both boats, they tie to each other. Depending on the size of the boat and whether or not the first is well anchored or tied to a dock or wall, there can be three or four together. Everything depends on the first boat, and given what we have observed of the practices of our fellow boaters, we always prefer to be that first boat, the one that others raft to. As it happened, on this occasion, nobody asked us, and we decided not to offer.

By late afternoon, Dick joined me in the cockpit (bringing adult beverages), and was able to see what I find so fascinating when we are stopped in a busy spot while he sits below with his computer. It never ceases to amaze me how unprepared people are, especially in smaller boats. No lines ready, fenders put away in lockers, or hanging on the wrong side of the boat, and usually nobody with a clear idea of what needs doing except the captain, who is busy driving the boat and then jumps around trying to do everything else as well. Some of the antics are highly amusing, some less so, especially when they start drifting into other boats.

The concert began with a warm-up singer at 6pm. He was playing under a canopy above the main seating area, with no real sound system, so we couldn’t hear him. The main event began at 7:30pm, with an audience of 200-300 and about 25 boats. The group was Jaggerz. They have been around since the 1960’s, and had a #1 hit in 1970, The Rapper. They played a mixture of well received light rock, and a lot of B-sides. They never really grabbed the audience until the end of the last set. They invited a portion of the audience down in front of the stage with a dedication to veterans and a rendition of Proud to be American, and kept them there, dancing to rock and roll, finishing with a grand finale of The Rapper. We enjoyed the evening, and marveled that two of the original band members from 1965, including the lead guitar and vocals, Jimmie Ross, are still performing. The hit song The Rapper, is not describing rap music. That began at street parties in New York City in the 1970’s. MC’s were tasked with keeping audiences lively during DJ breaks, and they did so by telling jokes and generally engaging with the audience, eventually adding music and becoming the entertainment in their own right. The rapper in the hit song refers to a man who seduces girls by telling lies. The Jaggerz play about 25 engagements a year. We enjoyed the evening, although it would have been better with a larger, and perhaps more engaged audience.

We were away the next morning by 8:30, with 3 locks and a stop for a pump-out ahead. We were welcomed back to Pittsburgh by the Fire Boat! Chip told us that they were, in fact, testing their pumps, but it was a nice greeting, and he and Dick chatted on the radio. Later the Fire Boat was positioned just off The Point, the park where 3 rivers meet, and Chip took a nice picture of Nine Lives with the fountain in the background.

Pennsylvania seems to favour coloured bridges. In Pittsburgh they particularly like yellow. Our Segway Guide said the yellow represents Pittsburgh being the Golden Triangle. However, other sources suggest a different story. Yellow and black are the colours of the sports teams, hockey, football, soccer, and baseball, chosen originally from the coat of arms of William Pitt, after whom the city is named. There are a number of yellow bridges in Pittsburgh, and I have been noticing others painted blue, green, and silver elsewhere on the Ohio River. Dick tells me that only bridges older than 20 years can be painted. New ones are built of self-healing steel, which must be allowed to turn rusty and cannot be painted. I looked it up. The way it works, is small capsules filled with a healing agent are dispersed through the metal. When cracks happen, the capsules break and release the healing agent which then reacts with the metal and fills the crack, preventing it from spreading and limiting further damage.

detail of one of Pittsburgh’s yellow bridges

Partway along the Allegheny River we passed the Heinz Factory. H.J.Heinz was founded in 1869. Their first product was ketchup. The slogan “57 Varieties” was introduced in 1896. At the time, Heinz did not have 57 varieties of anything, the founder just liked the idea and thought the number was appealing. Today, after a merger with Kraft, the Kraft Heinz company is the fifth largest food company in the world. The historic Heinz Lofts, that we could see from the river, is a complex of 11 buildings, including the unambiguously named Bean Building, Meat Building, and Cereal Building. Among other successes, Heinz pioneered safe and hygienic practices in the food processing industry, including innovations such as providing hot showers to employees, and weekly manicures for women who handled food products.

We were tied up in Fox Chapel by 2:30, although with 3 locks and a stop for a pump-out, it had been a long day. We had lots of help to tie up, and were glad to be assigned a slip and be somewhat protected from wakes. We did have to back out and reverse in, as again, the finger piers were too short for us to tie up bow-in. We rather stuck out into the fairway, but they are generously wide, and we didn’t seem to cause any problems.

In the evening we walked to Jimmy Wan’s, an Asian restaurant. After potstickers and spring rolls, we shared shrimp, chicken, and Singapore noodle dishes. The food was delicious, although not nearly as spicy as we would have preferred. The waitress told us that Americans don’t want even the spicy dishes to be very hot, which is interesting considering the popularity of hot chili, buffalo wings, and even some barbecue.

August 7 was a day for catching up, with a huge pile of laundry to be done. I made pizza (from scratch), and Dick was able to find bulbs at the chandler to replace the burnt-out light in my shower. He decided to do his at the same time. The pizza dough was a recipe I have had success with before, but I used a new method, and paired with my home-made pizza sauce that I brought from home, it was a very good one! Actually 3, with 1 ½ for the freezer.

The next day it was finally possible to put the registration and tax sticker onto the dinghy. Up to then we couldn’t reach it, but by backing into the slip, it put the dinghy right beside the dock. This makes us legal for about 2 weeks. The bill for the tax does not come from South Carolina until the end of the month. Dick pays it, and then they mail us new stickers – to Hilton Head Island of course! We would have to ask Kathy to send them somewhere that we expect to be for a few days, and that will accept deliveries and mail, and we would be counting on the vagaries of US Post Office. Then we would need access again to put the new sticker on. South Carolina used to issue tax stickers for 5 years, but now they do it annually.

Registration letters and tax sticker for the dinghy

Even the dinghy motor requires its own tax sticker

For some time (years in fact), we wondered about rusty water leaking out of an inlet on the back step. Last summer a fellow Endeavour owner solved the mystery, explaining that the rust came from a failed valve for direct connection to marina water. Dick had the valve fixed last winter, but Fox Chapel was the first place we stayed for a few days where the water was in a convenient place to hook up. It made a big difference, especially as laundry requires several fillings of the water tanks. We did notice when we arrived at our next stop, that some of the water in the tank is also being used, as they took a long time to fill. So, still something of a mystery as to how the direct connection works vis a vis the water tanks.

Water set-up directly from marina water, no need to fill the tanks (supposedly)

Dick changed the oil in the generator. This year so far, the generator has run more than the engines, because of all the “free” town walls and docks we have stayed at, plus the few anchorages. The savings from not having to pay a docking fee are somewhat used up when it’s hot and the generator has to run to provide power for cooking and especially air conditioning.

The day was cloudy and windy, but the clouds disappeared and the wind died down just in time for a long, uphill walk in the heat to the restaurant. It was quite good. Dick enjoyed his frito misto, but my trumpet mushrooms were too undercooked, so they were chewy and had little flavour. Dick’s branzino was good, and my mushroom bolognese was delicious. We were too full for dessert, although Dick had some gelato. Fortunately, the walk back to the boat was all downhill!

The lockkeeper on our return to Pittsburgh was an absolute pill. He chose to tell Dick off for contacting him on arrival at the lock by radio after he had spoken by phone, even though his instructions on the phone were ambiguous. He then proceeded to explain in detail how the lock is prepared and when the doors can open. We had different staff on the upbound trip, but also rude, opening only one side of the doors, and not responding at all to contact by phone or by radio. It is fascinating that the lockkeepers on each river seem to have a different culture. Those on the Ohio have been consistently professional and helpful, while those on the Monongahela, equally professional, were also friendly and chatty. Remembering previous rivers, polite and professional on the Mississippi, but abrupt and actually obstructive on the Illinois. In fact, we have read many accounts of Loopers having exceptionally long waits and rude treatment on the Illinois. Glad we won’t be visiting that particular river again!

We had hoped to arrange for delivery by truck for diesel while at Fox Chapel. Dick was initially given the name of one company, who said that as of this year they are no longer able to deliver fuel unless the boat is out of the water. This is a new Coast Guard rule, requiring a license, and for spill mitigation equipment to be carried on the tanker, and that supplier has chosen not to deal with it. After we were in the marina, Dick discovered that there is a company that has the license, and delivers, but because we were so late in calling, we could not get a delivery in time. This meant we had no choice but to get some diesel at the only marina in the area that has it. With a captive audience, they are charging $7/gal, more than we have ever paid anywhere. To add insult to injury, the docks are self-serve, as is the pump-out machine. Dick asked the lady in the office when he called, whether the pumps automatically shut off at a certain dollar amount, and was assured they do not. We tied up, started the diesel pumping, and began with the pump-out. When that was completed, we discovered that the diesel had shut off. Dick started it again, and at that point, a dockhand wandered down and asked if we needed any help. Yes, about half an hour ago! He stayed and chatted, probably hoping for a tip. None was forthcoming. Dick only put in enough fuel to get us back to Cincinnati, where we know there is an excellent, and attended, fuel dock.

A beautifully kept sternwheeler moored on the Allegheny River

The Point, at the confluence of 3 rivers

The Grand Concourse, Station Square, from the Monongahela River in Pittsburgh

On arrival at South Side, we discovered most of the long dock was covered in goose poop. We didn’t want to be too close to the pump-out machine, given the incompetent boaters that abound in these parts. Dick spent 45 minutes clearing about 100 feet of dock before we could get properly tied up and power connected. We would be there for 7 days. On approach, we passed the Fire Boat and got a toot- toot and a wave from Chip before he rushed off on Fire Boat business. Another pest on the docks at South Side is the incredible number of lantern bugs. These are a flying insect, an invasive species originating in China. They are everywhere, but fortunately are relatively easily squashed. They were first seen in 2014, and given the numbers we are seeing, they are increasing rapidly. Depending on the direction of the wind, Dick had to move debris and floating garbage away from Nine Lives as it gathered up against the docks. This, along with the goose poop and heavy wakes from tows and inconsiderate boaters, make South Side a less than pleasant marina to spend a week in.

Dick cleaning the dock at South Side Marina

Moving debris away from the boat at South Side Marina, this had to be done most days.

Dick collected the rental car. It was a pickup truck, not what he would have chosen, but better than the small city car that was the alternative.

Something over 30 years ago, I attended a conference in Pittsburgh, and ate in the glorious Grand Concourse, the former railway station. I enjoyed one of the best meals I had ever had. After listening to me talking about the experience for years, Dick earned himself some big brownie points by finding that it is still a fine dining restaurant, and making a reservation. I had been looking forward to this for weeks. The evening began poorly, as we were whisked through the stunning Grand Concourse, and shown to a middle table on a balcony. The maître d offered to try to find us a table in the main room, but Dick likes a cityscape, and basically didn’t want to bother. Then the evening deteriorated. We ordered our usual glass of something bubbly, and it took 15 minutes for the waitress to come and tell that they didn’t have what we had asked for. We waited another 15 minutes for the alternative. Starters were ordered, and eventually arrived, and Dick ordered a bottle of wine. Half an hour later, he was told they were out of that too. By this time, we thought it was too late for a whole bottle, so wine by the glass was ordered. The main courses eventually arrived, and were okay, but not exceptional. Altogether we were 2 ½ hours for a 3-course meal and 2 glasses of wine. The restaurant has been taken over by Landry’s, a chain we are familiar with from when we lived in Houston. They buy up successful restaurants in good locations, and subject them to corporate dumbing down and cost cutting. The food is generally good but essentially uninspired. The Landry’s in Hilton Head closed. Uninspired was exactly our experience, apart from ridiculous problems with the wine. We returned to Nine Lives long after dark, and had to pick our way around the goose and duck droppings as well as we could. Fortunately, most of the geese were at the end of the dock where Dick hadn’t cleared. There was lots of rain in the night, some heavy, but that stuff does not wash away.

The Grand Concourse, where we had expected to sit

Caprese salad at Grand Concourse was not a bad start

Grand Concourse Parmesan snapper and shrimp, with a miserable serving of overcooked asparagus

Planked shrimp, orzo, and the rest of the asparagus

Dinner at Grand Concourse took so long it got dark

August 10^th was a quiet day. It was rainy, so Dick found it easy to resist the temptation to get on his bike and explore. Instead, he stayed in and worked on the print version of the blog. The dockmaster came and cleared the rest of the goose poop from the end of the dock. He then attached silver tape between pylons and electrical posts. In theory, this will discourage the ducks and geese from roosting there. Apparently, they have tried various solutions, some quite expensive. Large windsocks that shred, don’t make any difference. Strobe lights close to the dock were almost all broken, either by boats running into them, or by being kicked. The $3 rolls of shiny tape are the most effective, but I have to say they look very much like a police investigation is underway! After a few days of getting increasingly tattered, the tape also loses its effectiveness, and the geese are back roosting and making their mess.

Dinner at Paris 66 Bistro was a much better experience. It had a very authentic ambience, with an incredible aroma of garlic! The onion soup was a compromise between the cheese and bread laden American version, and the overly restrained version that one finds in France, that has only a couple of croutons and a grinding of cheese. Dick’s escargot were excellent. He also enjoyed his beef en daube. My trout meuniere, much admired by TripAdvisor reviewers, was good, but not at all what I had expected. I was looking forward to a trout filet, dredged in flour and pan friend in generous butter, served with lemon juice and parsley. Instead, the fish was poached in white wine and olive oil, and covered in chopped herbs with finely chopped capers. The dish is probably much enjoyed by American tastes that shy off butter, but it was quite different from what I had looked forward to (and it badly needed salt). Desserts were excellent – fruit tart for Dick and crepes flamed with grand marnier for me. The chefs resisted the temptation to dump a load of powdered sugar and whipped cream on my crepe, it was delicious!

Kir Royale (for a change) at Paris 66 Bistro

Fruit tart for dessert at Paris 66 Bistro

Paris 66 Bistro Grand Marnier Crepe flambee

From August 8 through 11, Nine Lives crew took the rented car to Canada, to Peterborough, Ontario, to attend a 90^th birthday party for Dick’s Uncle George. It was great to see so many aunts, uncles, and cousins, and of course to spend time with Mum, Betty, and Ed. Friday evening, we returned to the great Indian restaurant that we discovered when we were on that part of the Loop. It was, if anything, even better. We did comment that of all our friends, only one couple would have enjoyed our extra spicy choices as much as we did!

Imperial Tandoor tandoor shrimp and naan bread

There was a bit of a delay at the border on our return drive, but we were back in Pittsburgh in plenty of time to get ready to go to Spirits and Tales. The son of good friends from Hilton Head is the chef. The restaurant is on the 10^th floor of an upmarket hotel in the University, so we had wonderful views and interesting architecture to look at. We had an excellent meal. Dick started with a wedge salad, and I had a very good onion soup. Dick’s seafood fettuccini was delicious, and I enjoyed my perfectly cooked wagyu burger with truffle fries. We shared limoncello cake for dessert, also delicious, and, for a change, not excessively sweet.

Wagyu Burger and truffle fries at Spirits and Tales

Limoncello cake with creme anglaise at Spirits and Tales

On our return to the docks, we were able to meet fellow Looper Jon, on Escapades, who is solo most of the time, but happened to be assisted for a few days by his sister. We enjoyed chatting and comparing notes.

Monday morning was our planned Segway Tour. There was the usual delay when the rest of the group, a family of 4, did not arrive 15 minutes early as requested, and then they had to disappear off to find a restroom before starting. It became clear during the 15 minutes of instruction and practice, that the boy (12 years old?), was not at all comfortable and was having a lot of difficulty getting used to the machine. The guide gave him extra time and help, and eventually we set off, crossed the bridge over the river, and the boy fell off. He was extremely lucky that he was just bruised. The fall could easily have happened in traffic crossing a road, or the machine could have landed on him and broken something. He and his dad walked back to the start, while the guide returned their Segways. Altogether, it was nearly an hour after the planned start before we set out again. It could have been a great tour, but it was quite rushed, with two hours condensed into one, and there was a bit too much riding on bumpy streets for my preference. We enjoyed it anyway, and got back to the boat before the rain started.

Piazza Lavoro and Mythic Source, artist installation with a yellow bridge and the Pittsburgh Skyline

Segway Tour at Piazza Lavoro and Mythic Source

Pittsburgh is another American city that has reinvented itself since the dangerous days of the 1970’s. From a filthy industrial town that subsequently lost its tax base with the demise of the steel industry in the US, it has become a centre of excellence in education, medicine and invention. Across the river from our marina are a number of research laboratories, and everywhere we go there are new buildings and old ones being renovated. Older neighbourhoods are being gentrified. The park on The Point is a great downtown green space, as is much of the waterfront on the Allegheny. The Oakland area of the University is a glorious mix of historic and interesting new buildings.

Oakland architecture including Allegheny County Soldiers Memorial

Reminders of the steel industry are everywhere. Not only in the form of derelict buildings (although those are mostly gone in the metropolitan area), but also artifacts have been preserved and incorporated into parks and squares. One of these is the gantry that was part of a water treatment facility that was built in the late 1970’s to support one of the steel mills. Before the water treatment plant was built, scale, a hot, oily byproduct of rolling steel, was dumped directly into the Monongahela River, on occasion raising the temperature of the river by as much as 40 degrees F. The tilting retort, or Bessemer converter, from the first blast furnace, started in 1859 and in use until 1927 is preserved in Station Square behind the musical fountain. Another memorial is a slag pot. Slag is the waste from iron and steel-making processes, shipped in huge pots by rail, and it can be used for roadbeds, landfill, concrete, fertilizer, and of all the unexpected uses, aquarium gravel. Steel from the blast furnace is poured into ingot molds, that are then moved to another part of the plant after solidifying. The ingots are removed from the mold and stored for future use. In time, they are reheated to soften them, and then rolled into slabs. The slabs are further processed into plate, sheet, and strip steel.

Steel industry gantry from a water treatment plant

Musical fountain at Station Square. In the background is a tilting retort from the earliest steel works

As it happens, in Dick’s long career with Dresser-Rand, when asked, we always say that the company makes machinery for the oil, gas, and petrochemical business. This is, of course, true, but I am reminded that Dick’s very first customers, when he was a new salesman, were steel companies. Riding his bike around Pittsburgh, seeing the artifacts and reading the accompanying plaques, was a real trip down memory lane for Dick.

Following an afternoon of heavy rain, we pulled out the umbrellas and set off the Eddy V’s. This is a fine dining chain (done right), with restaurants in many states. It was possibly the best meal we have had this trip. The lobster tacos to start, were completely different from anything we have had before, and were delicious. Dick’s rack of lamb was perfectly cooked, and my parmesan crusted sole was a treat. Lately we have been served asparagus that is well past its prime, yellow and bitter, but here we had a generous portion of beautiful green stalks, cooked just right and seasoned. We also shared an order of mashed potatoes with cheddar cheese and lobster, again a unique and delicious dish. Dick had berries with crème anglaise for dessert. I grumbled to the waiter that the problem with sharing-sized portions of dessert is that we don’t get to choose what we would really like. He asked what I would have had, and told me he would surprise me. A perfect small portion of the bananas foster cake dessert was delivered, and even set on fire at the table! When the bill came, it was described as “celebration” and there was no charge.

Parmesan sole (and beautiful asparagus) at Eddy V’s

Mashed potatoes with lobster and cheddar

We were glad of the umbrellas as we waddled back to the boat after the big meal, skirting goose and duck poop. It rained all night. The next day was boat cleaning day. Nine Lives was vacuumed and dusted, bathrooms cleaned, and galley polished. Dick took advantage of the last day having a car and did a large grocery shop, visiting 3 different supermarkets and replenishing our stocks of heavy things like beer and fizzy water.

Nine Lives on the dock at South Side Marina

Later, we were delighted to host Nancy and Fred’s son Chris, the chef, and his lady, Kristen, for docktails. I had fun putting together a plate with some of the cheeses we brought from the Peterborough cheese shop, plus the Spanish cheeses we had on board. There were also various kinds of sausage, and some Iberico ham. We enjoyed the company very much, in fact I was having such a good time I forgot to take any pictures! We are hoping to meet them again next time they visit Hilton Head.

Better weather allowed Dick to get out on his bike for some exploration the next day. I worked on the blog while he rode on the Heritage Trail for several miles down the Monongahela. Later, he put his bike into the truck to return to the rental car company. He enjoyed riding back much more than the 3-mile walk he had to do to collect the vehicle.

In the evening, we walked up to the Hofbrauhaus. This is the same organization that owns the very famous Hofbrauhaus brewery, beer hall, and Octoberfest venue in Munich. The first brewery started in Bavaria in 1589. They began brewing Bavarian beer in Michigan in 1997, and opened their first brewhouse and beer hall in 2003 in Newport, Kentucky. Hofbrauhaus Pittsburgh opened in 2009. It is very authentic, with typical Bavarian food, a variety of beers, and all served at long tables with benches. I am sure there are lots of opportunities for songs and “Oans, zwoai, G’suffa!” That traditional Hofbrauhaus song was written in 1935, and was first performed by a Bavarian brass band at a sausage market. We met Valerie and Chip for a reunion and farewell get-together. We had a great time (although we did not feel any need to stand on benches and sing), and we all look forward to our next meeting.

Looking back at the confluence of 3 rivers as we leave Pittsburgh

July 20 to August 3, Cincinnati to Morgantown, West Virginia

Leaving the marina in Cincinnati, we made an early start, expecting a long day. The river was up 2 feet due to all the heavy rain and thunderstorms in the Northeast. There was a lot of debris in the water, not small stuff, big logs, that needed continuous dodging, tiring for the helm.

We are now well into the part of the country known as the Rust Belt, or, more flattering, the Industrial Northeast. As we travel up the Ohio and see the derelict factories and decommissioned but not mitigated power plants, the term Rust Belt takes on even more meaning.

A derelict suspension bridge, only partly demolished. Ospreys nest on top of one of the towers.

We passed the Zimmer Power Plant. It was planned to be nuclear, and was 95% complete and 1.6 billion dollars spent when construction was found to be inadequate. Investigations into quality assurance resulted in large fines, and by 1983 the costs had escalated, further legal problems were looming, and the project was cancelled and the plant was mothballed. Conversion of the plant to coal was started in 1987, and by 1991, when it finally began generating power, more than 3.3 billion dollars had been spent. This was not the end of the story, as by 2021, the operator was fined by the EPA for exceeding pollution emissions for more than 20 years. By 2022 the plant was considered no longer viable, as it could not make enough money to justify keeping it open, and it was shut down.

The Ohio River is more interesting north of Cincinnati, with lots of properties on the waterfront, campgrounds, small boat docks, and pretty countryside.

We went straight through the lock with no waiting. There was an incredible debris field outside the upper doors, no way around it, so we had to plough gently through and hope nothing got into the props.

In Augusta, KY, there is a ferry crossing the Ohio River that has run continuously since 1798, although it is not the same hand-propelled vessel they started with in the 18^th century.

We arrived at the free town dock in Maysville, Kentucky. Reviews of the mooring were confusing, so the plan was to make a slow pass before docking, to see what would be needed in the way of lines and fenders. At the last minute, Dick just decided to dock. I was not ready, we did not have headsets on, but I did at least have gloves on to handle the lines. It was an easy docking, and we were settled by 3:30pm.

According to one of the many historic plaques, Maysville considers itself the “Birthplace of Bourbon”. The town was a major shipping port for bourbon from the 1780’s, and the first documented advertisement for bourbon whiskey appeared in 1821 by Maysville merchants Stout and Adams.

part of Maysville’s flood wall mural, showing the port during its heyday

We walked to Caproni’s, a venerable Italian American restaurant. It opened in the 1930’s, as a sandwich shop for railway workers and travellers. The meal was enjoyable, with friendly service. We decided to try special cocktails for a change from our usual glass of wine or bubbly. Dick’s concoction was made with iced tea, he requested unsweetened, and it was apparently very refreshing. Mine was not a success. I had not expected a recipe with peach schnapps and bourbon to be sweet, but it was impossible! From now on I will stick with wine, or water.

Extensive selection of bourbon at the bar at Caprioni’s

Maysville has some lovely old buildings, but like so many places in small-town America, it is struggling. We noticed a high school building that has been re-purposed to condos, which is a good start towards revitalizing the downtown. One of the many murals on the town wall depicts a buffalo hunt in the 1600’s. It has been noted on several occasions when I read about the history of the Ohio Valley, that the local native people were displaced by the Iroquois during the 17^th and 18^th centuries, with the Iroquois maintaining the area as their own hunting preserve. The Iroquois were themselves displaced by French and British settlers, and later by the movement west into what was called the Northwest Territory. What goes around comes around.

Another part of Maysville’s floodwall mural. This shows a bison hunt from the 17th century.

detail of one of the downtown buildings in Maysville

There were heavy thunderstorms in the night. As I lay there listening, and watching the rain sheeting down the back door, I realized that the rain never hits the back door because of the extended hardtop. I scrambled out to close the rolled up eisenglass at the back. It took only a moment, but the bottoms of my pajamas were soaked. The rain blew in far enough to wet the table, the gloves on it, and our deck shoes underneath.

The next day we passed the J.M. Stuart Generating Plant. It was the 11^th most polluting power plant in the USA. It was shut down by agreement with the Sierra Club and other interested parties, and is in the process of being demolished.

Partly demolished J.M Stuart Generating Plant

We passed the attractive and historic Selby 100 Mile House and Gardens. This is now a B&B. It looks very nice, but it is truly in the middle of nowhere, and no restaurants nearby for guests to find an evening meal.

Further upriver, we passed the Majestic Showboat. This is another sad example of a historic fixture that has been allowed to fall into ruin. The boat was built in 1923, and was the last floating theatre to be built in the USA, and the longest running. It was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1989. The showboat has no propulsion, and requires a tug to move her from place to place. In 1965 the boat was shut down, as her wooden hull was considered unsafe. She was drydocked, a steel outer hull was added, and she was purchased by the University of Cinncinati for use by theatre students for summer stock. This lasted until 2019, when she was sold to a couple who planned to use her as a tourist attraction and airbnb. Disputes arose over permitting and the plan to have her docked in Maysville fell through. She is now sitting at a quiet stretch of the Ohio River, untended and unloved, a sad end to a long and interesting history.

We were into the Shawnee Boat Club in Portsmouth by 3:30, but it took us more than half an hour to tie up, even with help from a dockhand. There are no cleats on the docks. Instead, there are eyebolts, with a braided steel line running through them along the edge of the dock. It would be impossible to tie up without help, or one of us jumping off the boat. To add to the tripping hazard, a waterline runs along beside the steel line. Fortunately, after a quiet night, it was a very calm morning, so Dick could untie us completely before stepping back onto the boat, while I stood ready at the helm if we drifted too far into the River.

Dick rode up the hill to Kroger, which featured an interesting mural of the town on the side of the building.

Portsmouth, mural on the wall of the Kroger Supermarket

The Sciotoville Railroad Bridge, known as the Colossus on the Ohio, was an engineering marvel in 1916, at the time of building. It was the largest rivetted truss bridge in the world until 1945.

Colossus of the Ohio, the Sciotoville Railroad Bridge

detail of the Sciotoville Railroad Bridge

We arrived in Huntington, and were tied up on the town wall by 2:30. We walked into town for dinner at Le Bistro. This is the Rust Belt’s idea of a French restaurant. The chef was very fond of garlic and pepper, and was perhaps overly generous with both, although we are also fond of them, so we enjoyed the meal. It was the evening before our wedding anniversary, so Dick had pre-ordered the Chateaubriand. It was supposed to be “prepared at your table by our chefs”, but it arrived on a wooden board, ready for us to help ourselves. Overall, the food was okay, but nothing special.

Nine Lives tied up on the wall at Huntington

The next day we tied up at Point Pleasant, again on the town wall. There was a floating dock, but it was very low, so we used the concrete wall, which had good cleats and huge rubber bumpers. We did need to take care with the fenders, partly to make sure the rubber wasn’t making black marks on the boat, and also to be sure the fenders weren’t trapped. The next morning, I had a notice from WordPress, and an email through the blog site to say that a local resident had seen us tied up at Point Pleasant, and had found us on the internet. Nine Lives is famous!

Nine Lives at the wall in Point Pleasant

Point Pleasant town dock is just above the site of the Silver Bridge. This was an eyebar chain suspension bridge, named for the colour of its aluminum paint. It was built in 1928. In 1967, the bridge collapsed under the weight of rush-hour traffic, with the loss of 47 lives. The bridge was carrying more weight than it had been designed for, and had been poorly maintained. A single eyebar in one of the suspension chains failed, due to a small defect just 1/10 of an inch deep. Most suspension bridges have been built with multiple redundancy in the eyebar links, but the Silver Bridge had just two, so the failure of one link resulted in catastrophic failure of the other. Inspections, using the technology available at the time, could not have seen the flaw or prevented the disaster. The collapse led to the creation of the first National Bridge Inspection Program in 1968. Despite this program of inspections, bridges still occasionally collapse.

Early morning fog in Point Pleasant. Looking south at the replacement for the Silver Bridge

The Silver Bridge disaster led to a program of bridge inspections. Here, engineers inspect a highway bridge.

We walked into town and had dinner at a Japanese restaurant. It was a nice change, but although there was a huge amount of food, it was a little uneven. Great fried dumplings, strange tasting tempura vegetables, and enormous portions of hibachi chicken, filet, and shrimp. Returning to the boat, we found the concert that had been setting up was about to start. It was very sparsely attended. The music was religious light rock, played for about an hour and a half, and then everyone went home by 8pm. It seemed like a lot of expense and effort to set up (stage, power, lighting, and a pavilion for the privileged few), for a very short concert.

The weather was finally cool enough overnight to turn off the generator and do without air conditioning. There was mist on the water in the morning, although there was more heat to come, according to the forecasts.

Point Pleasant is famous for the Mothman legend, a larger than human creature with wings and glowing red eyes, sighted over a period of about a year in 1967. It was first described by a couple who saw it, and claimed that it chased their car (could they possibly have overindulged in a bad batch of moonshine?) As soon as the encounter was reported, there were many more sightings, and in due course the story was picked up by the national press. Eventually the tale was made into a movie with Michael Keating. Sober heads suggest that the initial encounter most likely was a Sandhill Crane, that was off its migration route. They are the largest crane in America, and have red patches around their eyes.

Statue of the famous Mothman of Point Pleasant

The next day we anchored behind Buffington Island, anchor set by 2:30. We watched a young deer browsing the vegetation along the shore. Apart from one pontoon boat and a fishing boat, we saw nobody. It was a quiet location, with barely enough current to keep the boat in line, so it might not do so well in a strong wind. We had heavy thunderstorms overnight, and once again I got soaked zipping up the back window. Talk about fool me twice! Why are you the one getting soaked, I hear you ask! Dick does not wake up for anything short of a very loud siren. By the time I get his attention, I can just deal with the problem.

Deer browsing on the shore at Buffington Island

Hibiscus moscheutos, we have seen these pretty flowers on the banks of the rivers.

We arrived in Marietta well before 2pm. Dick had been told he couldn’t make a reservation, and to call on the day. Repeated phone calls, and messages were left, but no answer. We needed to take on water anyway, so we tied up at the fuel dock. When Dick went up to the office, there was a sign on the door saying, “Closed Monday and Tuesday”. He came back and we set our lines properly, and plugged into the power post. Dick took on water immediately, just in case we got kicked off, but nobody troubled us.

It was a very short walk to the restaurant. The food was okay. Dick fell into the trap that always used to catch my Dad. He heard “rack of lamb” and ignored the rest, so he was quite surprised that it was prepared as tagine, with couscous and tomato sauce! Not what he was expecting, but he enjoyed it anyway.

Marietta was the first town to be settled in the Northwest Territory, west of the Ohio River. The settlement began in 1788. It was named after Marie Antoinette, in acknowledgement of France’s role in the American Revolution. We were told that after the Revolutionary War, George Washington arranged for any soldier who had fought in the war, to be awarded a land grant in the new Northwest Territory. Apparently, there are more Revolutionary soldiers buried in Marietta’s cemeteries than anywhere else in USA.

One of the attractive homes in the town is the Lockmaster’s House, built in 1899. Clearly, the position of lockmaster in the 19^th century was one of great prestige. The lockmaster was on call 24 hours a day. The lock was one of the hand-operated locks on the Muskingum Waterway. Ten of these locks are still in use, and they are still hand-operated. The Waterway might have been an interesting detour for Nine Lives, but advice from other boaters was that it was not worth taking the time.

We had a very quiet night, and heavy fog on the water in the morning. I watched a man in a small boat net fishing. I have seen quite a few optimistic fishermen using these nets, that are large, circular nets with weights. One tosses the net out into the water, and then gathers it in, supposedly full of fish. I have yet to see a single successful cast. There was still nobody about when it came time to leave, so we enjoyed a night of free dockage with power and water!

Reviews of our planned stop at Sisterville suggested that there could be shallow water at the dock. We made a close pass, and between the weeds in front of the dock, and a pile of mud and sand beside it, we decided not to attempt it. 10 miles further up the Ohio, is a State Park with a good concrete wall. The depth at the wall was 19 feet. The bollards were about 50 feet apart, so docking was a bit of a challenge. I threw a line over a bollard at the midship, and that allowed Dick to jump off and then walk the boat back to put a loop over a second bollard with a longer line. We even managed a spring line, essential on the river with all the wakes from passing tows and pleasure boaters.

Sudden, unexpected rain, and the need to close everything up in a hurry got us both soaked, and proved that my weather app may just be more reliable than the one Dick is using! There was another sharp shower at dawn, but otherwise it was a peaceful night.

The lock was just upstream, and there was no wait for the small chamber, so we were through by 9:30am. We tied up at Wheeling Landing by 1:30pm. There were a number of boats already on the lower part of the wall. A guy came over to us and warned us that we should use a chain to lock the lines in place, because there is apparently a problem, getting worse each year, with teenagers untying boats at 3am. We use multiple lines anyway, including some tied back on the boat, so Dick decided not to do anything beyond our usual routine. A lot of preparations were underway for a big festival to start the next day. Huge trailers parked in nearby streets included Veterans Affairs, Homeland Security, and Disaster Response. We were not sure what any of those would have to do with an Italian Heritage Festival.

By dark, there were lots of boats docked, including several rafted up, as the lower, easier docking part of the town wall was full. A friendly guy near us told me that he leaves his boat tied up on that wall often, and has never had a problem. That relieved my mind somewhat, but when we walked to dinner we saw more homeless people in the park than we have anywhere else. The town is in poor condition, with many buildings closed up. A lot of the streets are torn up, possibly to install new water mains or sewers. Dinner at a nearby diner was quite good, but we have no need to return to Wheeling. On a normal night, without the festival and other boats around, I would not feel at all safe overnight.

another of the old buildings in Wheeling

We passed the factory in Newell, WV, where they make Fiesta Tableware, first introduced in 1936. In 1871 two brothers, Homer and Shakespeare Laughlin, started a pottery factory in East Liverpool to produce whiteware, that was becoming more fashionable than the yellow pottery that had been common in USA. In 1897, the successful business was sold to Edwin Wells and his partner Louis Aaron. The pottery is still managed by the Wells family today. In 1936, Fiesta Tableware was introduced, and was an immediate success with its high gloss, bright colours, and practical Art Deco shapes. Despite its popularity, Fiesta was retired in 1978, but was re-introduced in 1983, and continues to be manufactured today.

We were booked into Holiday Marina, on the Chester side of the River. We were on the wall, which has metal edging and no rubber. The slips, although wood, are low, with narrow finger piers and also no rubber. Regardless, it was a decent place to stop for the night, especially in the location we were assigned. Dick was pleased that the showers were spotless. We plan to stop there again on our return journey.

We passed a marina near Weirton. Note how close the barge is on the right of the image. The marina is located just around a bend next to a barge fleeting area. If a tow loses control of a barge, it will completely crush the docks and any moored pleasure boats.

Drydock with a sternwheeler being repaired

W.H.Sammis Power Plant at Cumberland Lock. Note that the highway passes through a tunnel under the generating station.

There were huge thunderstorms again overnight, and in the early morning, so we considered staying there a second night. However, there seemed to be a window of opportunity, so we left shortly after 8am. We had 3 locks to transit that day. We were surprised to be told at the first lock, that the small chamber requires that you supply a line. Dick was prepared for that on the Monongahela River, but this was unexpected on the Ohio locks, and the line was still coiled in the locker. This meant that there was a bit of a scramble to get it ready. 100 feet of line is easily tangled, and too much to hold a coil even for Dick’s big hands! The lockmaster passes down a hook, you put your line on it, and he pulls it up and wraps it round a bollard or hangs it on a hook. We cleat the line in the middle of our bow, and then after it passes round the bollard on the lock wall, Dick holds the other end on the lower cleat at the stern. It worked well for two locks, and then the third was a mess. The wind had come up, and blew us about, but the big problem was a small speedboat that came in behind us. They were not ready at all. They didn’t have a line to pass to the lockmaster, and the line they took out of the bow of their boat was all tangled up. The man attached it to another line, also tangled, and meanwhile the wind blew them around the lock, nearly into the stern of our boat. The lockmaster moved us up a bit further into the lock, while the man continued to try to get himself organized. His wife apparently had no role, she simply sat at the back of the boat while the man jumped back and forth, trying to steer away from the lock wall, and also get the lines sorted. It all got a bit easier when the lockmaster finally closed the doors, so that at least the wind was no longer a factor. It was an object lesson for boaters, everyone should have a role, be able to assist, and needs to understand what is happening in the various situations one encounters, particularly locking and docking.

At last it was time for the lock to start filling. The review I read said it was a “turbulent” lock. This is the understatement of the trip. I had to use the engines to even come close to holding Nine Lives somewhat aligned to the lock wall. The lockmaster was very chatty, and he and Dick enjoyed a conversation about the Great Loop and catamarans. Then the heavens opened. All the windows were rolled up, so we had to jump to close everything, while still trying to maintain the boat in position as the lock filled. I stayed mostly dry, but Dick had to go back out and tend the line (and resume his conversation with the lockmaster).

Locking with our own (red) line, tied at the bow, passed around a bollard on the lock wall, and held at the stern by Dick.

Arriving in Pittsburgh, we had planned to stay on the wall at The Point, a park where three rivers meet. It is the confluence of the Ohio, the Monongahela, and the Allegany Rivers. There were no cleats or bollards that we could see, just rings set in the very low concrete wall. We needed a pump out first anyway, so proceeded to the marina where we had made a prior arrangement. We will be returning to that marina later in the month.

Pittsburgh, The Point, the confluence of the Ohio, Alleghany, and Monongahela Rivers

The pump out was self-serve. The machine cooperatively ate Dick’s $10 bill, but declined to turn on and start pumping. Then the heavens opened again. Dick phoned, and the marina manager, who fortunately lives on site, came over and got the machine started. He said we would be all right to stay for the night, for the usual charge, of course. This means we get power and water. There were a lot of strong wakes from boats going up and down the Monongahela, so we needed good fendering. As the rain came down in buckets, I asked Dick if he wanted his waterproof coat. As usual, he said no, because he was very sure the rain would stop. Once he was wet through, he asked me to get the coat. Struggling to get it on, over wet clothes, and not drop the headset into the water, took a few minutes, but as soon as it was accomplished, the rain stopped.

Lots of very chatty people dropped by and admired Nine Lives and talked about the Great Loop. This was more friendly conversation than we have had on the dock for ages.

The next morning, we passed the Elrama Power Plant, a coal-fired plant closed in advance of pollution regulations. The buildings were imploded in May of this year, local news reports said the plant was “reduced to rubble”. It is certainly a mess, but not quite rubble yet. It is really a depressing sight to pass the incredible number of closed power plants and factories. We know that they were huge polluters, and were closed with lawsuits and to avoid fines, but nobody requires the sites to be properly cleaned up. Apart from being a huge eyesore, there have to be chemicals and metals leaching into the water table and of course running off into the rivers. No longer quite as shiny as when we started out, Nine Lives is now sporting a brown moustache at the waterline from the murky water of the rivers.

We were tied up at Beach Club Marina in the town of New Eagle, by 1pm, a nice early finish in spite of passing through 2 locks. Unfortunately, after we had all our lines set, and power started, we had to reposition and do everything again. It is always a bad sign when there are lines already on the cleats, and sure enough, the space the dockhands had put us in belonged to a seasonal slip-holder. The location is very pretty (not a factory or power plant in sight), but subject to a lot of rolly-poly due to wakes as boaters rip past at speed. The building that had once been the fuel dock and office was shut, so payment for dockage was a bit problematic. Normally we would pay with a credit card, but apparently this would be quite a difficult prospect, and cash is preferred. In this day and age it is hard to imagine that cash is the only option.

Dick took a walk to investigate the town and buy a few groceries. He reported that there is really nothing else there. We walked up to the on-site restaurant for dinner. It has recently opened, and had 22, 5-star reviews, all dated the same day… The food was quite tasty, although from a limited menu, but they were very short-staffed, and our meals took forever. Meanwhile we were surrounded by badly behaved adults with their equally badly behaved children (handstands in a restaurant?). We feel no need to return to either the restaurant or the marina.

There was very heavy fog in the morning, we couldn’t see the shoreline across the river. Dick cooked one of his signature breakfasts, which gave the fog time to lift.

Arriving at Lock 4, we saw a dredge working just outside the lock doors. It was interesting to be so close, as a crane lifted buckets of gravel from the riverbed into a waiting barge. The lockkeepers were very chatty, told Dick that they had been expecting us, as they had a phone call from the downstream lock.

Barge construction plant on the Monongahela. You can see an almost finished barge, waiting to slide down the tracks into the river.

We were into Ten Mile Yacht Club by 2:30, and had help from our member contact to get into the slip. It was slightly worrying for me as we got closer to the rocks at the bow (Dick couldn’t see them), but with knowledgeable help we stopped in time. There was no phone signal at all, so we planned a very quiet evening of working on the blog. Dick prepares a print version, so we both need time for it. As it happened, our plans changed, and we enjoyed one of the nicest social evenings we have had this trip. Docktails were arranged with our hosts and some other members of the yacht club. I put together a cheese and charcuterie plate, that was well received, and it was a most convivial evening. Dick took a group of engineering students for a tour of Nine Lives including, of course, the engines. Our hosts are in the initial planning stages for doing all or perhaps just part of the Great Loop, so they had lots of questions.

Dick’s initial contact with the Yacht Club was via a phone call. He left a message for the man who was listed as the contact in the 2022 Quimby’s Guide that Dick is using for planning. It happens that guy died some years ago, but fortunately his widow is still in touch with the Club, and passed along Dick’s message.

Ten Mile Yacht Club, note the jolly paint on the bollard!

US Steel, Mon Valley Works, one of the few steel plants still in operation

Another view of US Steel, Mon Valley Works, you can get a sense of how huge this plant is.

We left by 9am the next morning, and were tied up on the City Marina dock in Morgantown, WV, by 2pm. They are excellent docks, but the power pedestals are not working, and there is no water. We will have to be careful of water use over the next few days, and will need to run the generator if we want air conditioning. Fortunately, it is cool at night, so AC not required at the moment. The docks are in the Wharf District of Morgantown, an area in the process of revitalization, with lots of restaurants but no shops. There is a bike path right beside the waterfront that goes for miles.

We walked up to Oliveri’s, an Italian restaurant very nearby. This was the best meal we have had in a while, although the service was a bit chaotic. We shared truffle fries to start, and then Dick enjoyed his beet and feta cheese salad. My salad was not delivered, but there was plenty of food without it, so I didn’t bother to chase it. Dick had seafood linguine that was excellent. My lobster ravioli in a seafood cream sauce with grilled shrimp was outstanding. Desserts were mixed, Dick loved his pistachio ice cream bombe, but my flourless chocolate cake was far too sweet.

Morgantown’s early history was one of conflict between British and French settlers and soldiers, and Native Americans. The Treaty of Paris of 1763 ceded the area to the British, but fighting continued until after the American Revolution. The University of West Virginia has three campuses in Morgantown, connected by an unusual driverless personal rapid transit system built as an experiment by the US Department of Transportation in the 1970’s. It is still in use.

Morgantown Personal Rapid Transit Pod. Although the system is still in operation, it does not run when the University is closed for the summer, so we can only show you the example from the UWV Welcome Center

Morgantown Rapid Transit System pod interior

Morgantown has excellent bike paths that cover much of the city safely. The Mon River Trail runs alongside the Monongahela River. It is built on the right of way of the former Fairmont, Morgantown, and Pittsburgh branch of the Baltimore and Ohio (B&O) Railroad. In 1996 the corridor was acquired to be railbanked as a non-motorized trail system. The process of railbanking refers to a 1983 amendment to the National Trails System Act. There was concern in Congress that the railway infrastructure of the United States was rapidly disappearing, and that some of the disappearing railroads might be needed in future. The railroad company no longer owns the corridor, but it can be returned if it becomes needed to transport goods or people. Given the variety of alternate modes of transportation of goods and people, I imagine it is highly unlikely that these trails will ever be repossessed. Town and City Councils must agree, as there are quite a few of these bike and walking trails built on former railroad corridors. We have enjoyed riding on several in other states as we have travelled around the Great Loop.

On our second evening in Morgantown, we walked along the Mon River Trail for about a mile to a so-called fine dining restaurant. The food was sometimes strange, but mostly acceptable. Perhaps not worth a long walk on a hot and humid day.

Mosaic sculpture on the Mon River Trail, Morgantown

The next morning, we were surprised to hear loud sirens from the city, starting around 6:30am, and sounding continuously for several hours. There were different sirens from different parts of the city, and they continued to sound on and off throughout the morning. No explanation was available online, and there were clearly no tornadoes in the area, so the reason remains a mystery. Dick occupied his morning with making arrangements for delivery of diesel to the marina we will stay at in Pittsburgh. The only marina that has diesel on the dock is charging more than the highest price we have ever paid, 50% more than the current price in other locations. Having the fuel delivered by truck will still be expensive, but it will be less than the outrageous price charged at the other marina.

So far there has been no sign of any officialdom asking to be paid for mooring here at the Morgantown City Marina. The rate was reported to be $15 a day, something of a bargain, but on the other hand, the power and water pedestals are not working. This evening we will walk to the nearby restaurant in the Marriott Hotel, and we will start our return trip down the Monongahela River tomorrow morning.

Black-eyed susans beside the path in Morgantown

July route and statistics for Nine Lives journey

July 7 to 19 – Louisville to Cincinnati

After a quiet night on the River, we raised anchor by 8:30am, destination Louisville. On the way, we passed the optimistically named Dreamland. Even the houses on the riverside drive have little view, and no access to the river. It is shoehorned into an area of heavy industry, including a petrochemical plant. Dreamland is next to the equally evocative, and possibly more accurate Rubbertown.

It was an easy run, and we went straight through the lock in Louisville. We managed to find our slip in the marina (with no signs or numbers on the piers or slips), but there was a sailboat in our assigned spot, so we took the one behind. It is a well-built, modern marina in a safe location, but it is unmanned, not dredged (much of it is silted up), and neither the showers nor the pump-out were in service. In fact, the pump-out nozzle was broken, and given past reviews of this marina, I suspect this is always the case, it never gets repaired. Why money is spent to build a great facility, and then it is unstaffed and allowed to fall apart I will never understand, but it is a story we are seeing again and again.

The marina is located in a part of Louisville known as The Point, the city’s most prestigious place to live in during its founding years. The only remaining intact house from that period overlooks the marina, and the elegant façade of another home stands as a gateway at the nearby Botanical Garden.

Heigold House facade at the Botanical Gardens

We walked up the hill to the self-proclaimed “Best Pizza in Louisville”, just under a mile, but very hot, so a miserable walk. The pizza was just so-so, from a menu of overly pretentious toppings. My mushroom pizza had little flavour, and was almost all tough stems, such a contrast to the delicious pie I had earlier at Biaggi’s. Dick had a better choice, but we still would not return.

Later one of the local AGLCA Harbor Host couples joined us on board for late docktails. It was a most enjoyable evening, and we hope to meet them again on our return journey. Just after they left, we were able to watch a great fireworks display over the downtown, a good finish to the evening.

fellow Loopers and Harbor Hosts for docktails

July 8 began with a leisurely morning, with a big breakfast, and then I sat down to complete the first installment of the blog while Dick took care of a few boaty chores. Thunderstorms were in the forecast for the whole day. We were sitting and listening to the rain pattering on the roof, when we suddenly realized that the cockpit was completely open, screens rolled up, and upper hatch open. A scramble ensued and we did a hasty closing up, but since everything was already wet, Dick chose not to get half drowned in order to swap out the screened doors for the eisenglass.

A dragonboat, note the paddlers are all women

We enjoyed a great evening. After Dick scouted the route, and discovered that there would be ½ mile of rough, busy, two-lane highway between bike paths, he booked our first Uber ever, to take us to the restaurant. It was a very positive, if eye-wateringly expensive option. I felt briefly guilty at the cost, given that it was purely for my benefit (we have apparently forgotten about the rain and thunderstorms), so I offered to pay for the appalling expense of taking Uber instead of walking or riding, from my own limited funds. Not that Dick is going to be any more willing in future, avoiding courtesy cars or taxis has become an obsession and a matter of immense pride for him!

It was an excellent meal. Dick had the daily special stuffed lobster thermidor, and my surf and turf pasta was outstanding. The presentation of cornbread in a hot cast iron pan had us planning for special dinner accompaniments when we entertain in UK. They were out of my dessert choice, but Dick loved his cherry almond cake special. Since our Uber was not due for another 45 minutes, we were forced to repair to the bar to wait. There we chatted with a small group, one of the men is very familiar with Hilton Head, hoping to buy a house in Leamington. Dick and I each ordered a different flight of bourbon whiskeys. Careful tasting and evaluation produced two favourites. Who knows whether we will ever buy any bottles, but this is the start of an investigation into small bourbon distilleries. It’s a tough job, but we will gird our loins and step up. Is that an alcohol-fueled mixed metaphor?

A bourbon flight at River House Restaurant

Louisville was founded in 1778, and is one of the oldest cities west of the Appalachians. Its location on the Ohio River gave the impetus to the shipping and cargo industries, which are still an important piece of the economy. It is the site of the Kentucky Derby, arguably the most famous horse race in America. Mint Juleps are invariably associated with the Derby. Another claim to fame is bourbon. I found an official government tourism website that described the city as “Bourbon-soaked”. Hmmm. One third of all bourbon comes from Louisville. Bourbon can in theory be made anywhere in the USA, but it is mainly associated with Kentucky. Unregulated until 1964, bourbon must now, by law, be made of at least 51% corn, and must be matured in a new container made of charred oak. The charred oak gives the whisky its distinctive colour and taste. Each distillery will have a different mix and percentage of other grains. Angel’s Envy, that we visited, does a second maturation in used port barrels.

July 9^th, Dick explored the cities by bike on both sides of the River, and scouted the route to the restaurant for dinner. It was my first bike ride in months, and while my new bike has a lower centre of gravity and is a proper step-through bike, it is still very large for me, and is taking some getting used to. The route was mostly bike paths and pedestrianized areas to avoid traffic, but I was completely halted by a large group of men standing in the middle, taking up the whole path, and refusing to move. Dick rode around on the grass and gravel, but I had to get off and walk my bike until we were out of the area of children playing and families partying.

Railway bridge over the Ohio, now pedestrianized

Dick could see that someone has a sense of humour

It seemed a long way, but we eventually got to the historic Brown Hotel. The famous English Grill closed in covid and has not re-opened, but the Lobby Bar & Grill is a beautiful alternative. My cauliflower soup was excellent, as was Dick’s beet salad. Main courses were less impressive. I decided to experience the famous Hot Brown, in the place where it was invented, won’t need to try that dish again. Dick had a slightly chewy flat iron steak with frites. Desserts were wonderful. I had a chocolate espresso cake, and Dick enjoyed a delicious bread pudding. The ride back to the boat was much less stressful. Dick found a better, quieter route, entirely on sidewalks except for a few quiet streets downtown.

Chocolate espresso cake with flaming bourbon in a caramel cup

The next morning, we were on our bikes by 9:45 to head downtown for a tour of Angel’s Envy Distillery. It was a great tour, and we enjoyed the tastings afterwards, including the chocolate pairings!

Dick was courageous, and tasted the mash. You can see how much the fellow behind liked it!

Oak barrels with Angel’s Envy for maturing

When the bourbon is matured it is bottled

tasting Angel’s Envy with chocolate pairings

We visited a Duluth store, and as always, I found a few useful garments. Back to the boat and rest for the afternoon, and then a return to town for dinner at an Italian restaurant. Dick took us through the park again, assuming, wrongly, that because it was a Monday evening, there would be nobody in our way in the park. I was reminded of the advice given by the leader of a Segway tour in Paris, watch out for little French ladies and little French children, who will wander all over the path, and completely ignore bells, whistles, and requests to get out of the way. Louisville residents are not quite that bad, except for the smaller ones. Dick rings his bell, and eventually people move over to avoid being run down (I’m sure he wouldn’t, but they don’t know that). I follow 20 meters behind, calling out “another on your left”, and thank them as I go by. Dick is unfazed by it all, but I find it rather stressful.

Dinner was excellent, in an elegant, if old fashioned venue. Unfortunately, our waiter also looked after a business group of 10, who arrived at the same time as us, so we were somewhat neglected. In fact, we have never before had a bottle of wine plunked down on the table and then left there for 15 minutes without any means of opening it! The ride back, avoiding the park, was less stressful.

Crepe with veal and beef topped with marinara sauce

Louisville is very clean downtown, even the vast areas of concrete under the overpasses and bridges. It is also bike friendly, and rented scooters seem to be very popular. Main Street has few shops, but lots of bars and restaurants, and many of the historic buildings have been repurposed. We are told that the bourbon distilleries are also moving back onto Main Street, where there were once more than 60 of them. Angel’s Envy was the first to arrive, opening 10 years ago.

Dick enjoyed another distillery tour, although this one has had a few reverses and is not yet up to speed. Instead, they are producing various liquors, gin rum, vodka, tequila, and blended bourbons. He enjoyed the fascinating commentary on the history of bourbon and how it was shaped by Prohibition.

Our final dinner in Louisville was less successful than the others. I discovered that, like many bike-friendly cities, the friendliness stops in the middle of town, and bike lanes suddenly turn into right turn lanes filled with rush hour traffic. To Dick’s disgust, I refused to ride in traffic, and walked my bike on the sidewalk for several blocks. The meal was a mix of good food (the main courses) and highway robbery (a $35 cheese and charcuterie platter that featured jarred pimiento cheese, a tiny square of brie that was more rind than anything, sliced ham, and slices of bologna).

Louisville was overall an enjoyable stop, but we will probably not stop on the way back. Given the poor condition of what should be an excellent marina, and two other city-run facilities that have no security, we are hoping to find alternative places to stop.

leaving Louisville we pass this historic pumping station

July 12. On a quiet stretch of the river, I noticed what seemed to be a floating branch, just behind us. By the time I realized it was a deer, with a large rack of antlers, he was too far behind for a picture. He was 2/3 across, on a choppy day, hope he made it!

I had been wondering about some of the differences between the Ohio River and the Mississippi. On the Mississippi we saw a lot of wildlife, and there were pleasure boats and fisherman everywhere. We also saw a lot of houseboat rentals and the usual pontoon boats and fast pleasure boats. Houses and cottages on the water had docks, and were built to maximize the views of the river. The Ohio is completely different. We can go all day and not see a single fisherman or pleasure boat, and we have seen no rental houseboats. Houses are screened by trees, and while there are some docks, many are derelict and clearly unused. I theorized that perhaps the history of being a polluted river means that the Ohio is not seen by its residents as a good place for recreation, so I did a little research. The Ohio is still one of the two most polluted rivers in North America. The major pollutant is nitrates from runoff, but there are also many locations pumping raw sewage, and industrial effluents into the river. The Clean Water Act stopped some dumping, but power stations are specifically exempted. In 2020, heavy industry dumped more toxic chemicals into the Ohio than any other watershed. It added up to 41 million pounds of toxic pollution. The river is the source of drinking water for much of its length, and yet in many places it is considered unsafe to swim in it. It is probably not surprising that inland lakes are considered more interesting for recreational activities and especially fishing, although the pollution will affect the entire watershed. We use a special filter for drinking water on the boat, and this year we have added a second filter at the water hose. Having read about how bad the river water is, I am glad we are double filtering.

Our destination was the dock at a waterside restaurant in Madison, Indiana. Dick managed to shoehorn Nine Lives into the only space with power, a 50-foot gap right next to the bar. The docks are floating steel platforms, clean enough, but no protection, so lots of fenders required, especially as the dock is open to wakes from the River. The sign said $3 a foot, more than we have paid since East Coast marinas! As we set our lines, a small Coastguard vessel went ripping downriver, throwing a large wake that bounced all the boats on the dock. I guess the Coastguard feels that they are exempt from the rules about no wakes when passing moored boats. We added an extra couple of fenders! As we came in, a fellow in the bar was hugely impressed with how we parked Nine Lives in such a tight gap. (with the dinghy, there was less than 5 feet to spare). He bought Dick a drink so he could hear all about it and how we came to be on the Ohio River all the way from South Carolina.

the dock and restaurant at Madison, Indiana

Madison is an interesting town, with many preserved 19^th century buildings. The town is trying hard, flowers everywhere, festivals, and well-kept parks, but there are clear signs that there is little outside money coming in. Tourism is very much needed if the impetus to preserve and renovate the town is to continue. There are few shops and no restaurants to speak of. I was coming down with a cold, but was persuaded to walk into town. We had planned to visit a spice and oils shop, but although they advertised a 10am opening, it was closed and there was no sign of activity inside.

In its early years, Madison was a port and gateway to Indiana Territory. Later, it was an important stop on the Underground Railroad, given its position across the river from Kentucky, a slave state. Railways, and its position as a port city made Madison the third largest city in Indiana by 1850. Fortunes declined after the Civil War, with the reduction of freight on the river and building of other railroads in more favourable locations. The majority of the well-preserved downtown area is designated a National Historic Landmark, with a long stretch of 19^th century buildings in a variety of architectural styles.

After our brief visit to the town, we had a short trip upriver to the Kentucky River, and then 4 miles on that to the first of four locks. We tied up on the lower lock wall for the night. When the last business in Frankfort that was using the Kentucky River to transport its output closed, the canal and all the locks closed in 2002. The Kentucky River Authority has reopened the first 4 to encourage tourism, but they are only open from Friday to Sunday. In hindsight, we would have been better to have gone upriver on Saturday or Sunday, stayed 6 nights, and returned on Friday.

Frankfort is the capital city of Kentucky. It is located on the site of one of the main east-west buffalo trails, known as buffalo or bison traces. These were the seasonal migration routes of the millions of bison, and were followed by native Americans, and subsequently by explorers and pioneers. The town was chosen as the capital after Kentucky became a state in 1792.

60 miles, with 4 locks, is always going to be a gruelling day, add in 95F heat, and I was at the most miserable stage of a summer cold. We finally tied up in Frankfort by 7pm. It is a friendly boat club, members came to the docks to greet us and help tie up. Dick went alone to dinner at a very nice local restaurant. Afterwards, he enjoyed the outdoor Bluegrass Festival for a while.

July 15^th, I stayed on the boat resting, and Dick took the free trolley service to Buffalo Chase Distillery for their popular tour. He said it was very different from the previous tours, and involved a lot of standing around, so I was glad I had stayed behind, as I would have found it exhausting. It was pouring with rain for most of the day, but Dick was able to take the rest of the trolley tour, with an excellent driver/guide. He really liked the city, so we plan to return by car when we are in the area at the end of next month.

Buffalo Trace Distillery, warehouse where the bourbon is matured

Dick wasn’t feeling so well himself, most likely the same flu/cold as I had, plus lack of sleep, so he cancelled the restaurant reservation, which would have required Uber, and we had a quiet evening.

The next morning, we were waiting at the lock by 9:45. The lock was ready, and we went through with 2 power boats, a pontoon boat, and at least 8 wave runners – the most company we have had in a lock in ages! The Kentucky River is very pretty, although much like the Ohio but narrow. We saw lots of kingfishers, little blue and great blue herons, a couple of bald eagles, turtles, a muskrat, and a woodchuck (groundhog). I noticed that the wildlife is definitely not used to boats. Herons, that we are used to seeing standing motionless on the bank and completely ignoring us, flew off as soon as we approached, several times finding themselves in another heron’s territory as they kept flying ahead instead of passing us. The Kentucky River has some very shallow spots, especially in the pool nearest to Frankfort.

We had no contours showing on either Nine Lives Navionics chart, or my Aquamaps chart on the iPad. Dick downloaded and printed off paper charts with contours, so he could be warned of shallow areas. We have not used paper charts since our sailing days and when we first had Seas the Day.

Nine Lives was much admired by the lockmasters. They asked questions about her, and also commented on how great it was for them to have boaters who know what to do in locks. One guy exclaimed that with our 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, Nine Lives is bigger than his house! Another thought she is the biggest boat to have come up the river, although I suspect that may be an exaggeration.

We had a much easier day on the return. The first 3 locks were all waiting for us with the doors open, and a light haze meant the sun was not so punishing, plus an occasional breeze helped. On the other hand, that haze was from wildfire smoke, so our eyes were red and sore by the time we were finished, and coughing from the summer colds was exacerbated. These locks are different from the big locks on the other rivers. They are much older, and are small and narrow in comparison. The lockmaster tosses a line to you, fore and aft, and you turn off engines and hang on to the line as the lock fills or empties. They remind us of the locks on the Rideau Canal in Ontario. It takes both of us to hold Nine Lives in place, so no pictures!

It was a long, mostly boring day. The final lock transit was not as smooth as the first three. The lockmaster clearly had someplace else he wanted to be! Only two lines were ready, and they were set right at the upper end of the starboard side of the lock, while we were rigged and fenders ready for portside. I had to jump to move the ball fender across, and Dick the one at the back, and then they had to be quickly put back as soon as the lock doors opened so we could tie up on the wall below. With the lines where they were, we were really too close to the back of the lock (and the cill, a huge step that can easily catch your props). Dick never worries, but even the lockmaster had second thoughts, asked how deep were our props, and suggested we allow the boat to float forward once the water started draining, a little easier said than done.

After a very peaceful night on the lock wall, we had the last 4 miles of the Kentucky River, and then 17 miles on the Ohio to Markland Lock. There was no wait, and a friendly lockmaster, and we were out with just another 1.5 miles to the Turtle Creek Marina. This is a very tidy place, an inlet with a mix of small cottages and fixed trailers, plus 2 marinas. The docks are in very good condition with plenty of good rubber. The grounds are beautifully kept, as are the houses, and the boats are clean and tidy. It is far and away the prettiest marina we have seen in years, and a refreshing change from what we have been experiencing lately.

July 18^th, an early start with 65 miles to go, although fortunately no locks. The rain of the night before had not cleared away the smoke haze, so it was mostly cool. We experienced our first rain while underway this year, but we still had good visibility and the River is wide.

The rain did not take away the smoke haze. A pop-up in the camera suggested that I should clean the lens for a clear picture!

We passed Rising Sun, and across the River is the interestingly named hamlet of Rabbit Hash. Rabbit Hash is famous for its historic General Store (now under renovation after a fire), and its succession of canine mayors. One of the mayors planned to run for President in 2016. Sadly, she died after she announced her intention to run, before her campaign was properly launched.

Eventually we arrived in Cincinnati. The city appears to have little interest in their waterfront, except as a location for 3 major sports venues and a large waterfront parking lot. Further upstream the banks become wooded again. The Kentucky side of the Ohio has made a lot more of the riverfront, with restaurants and parks, and houses and condos that maximize the views.

Cincinnati waterfront and baseball stadium

The marina we are staying in is on the east side of the city. It is a large harbour, in great condition, with 2 restaurants on site. I had hopes for a nice dinner, especially after I read the reviews, but was sadly disappointed to find that not only is it an entirely outdoor venue, but all the food is served in baskets with plastic cutlery. It was also dirty, with tables not bussed, some with unfinished plates of food that were there when we arrived and had not been cleared when we left. The wind came up and blew the plastic and paper garbage everywhere. We will eat on board today.

We will be returning to Cincinnati at the end of August, for a longer stay and we plan to rent a car, so I will write more about the city and our explorations at that time.

June 19 to July 6, 2023, Pickwick Lake to Fort Knox, Kentucky

Nine Lives is on the move again. She is looking particularly shiny and beautiful, with a new ceramic coating, and fresh lettering. This year’s voyages will take her north on the Ohio River to Pittsburgh and beyond, and then south on the Cumberland River to Nashville.

The crew left Hilton Head, with the vehicle packed tightly with all the items we take back for the winter, lots of frozen and fresh food, and bicycles on the rack at the back. It had been our experience that grocery shopping in the Iuka area offered poor selection and quality, so as usual, we planned a number of meals ahead and shopped for them in Hilton Head. It was an uneventful 9-hour drive to our destination, a cabin at Pickwick Lake State Park. Again, past experience showed that it makes everything so much easier if we stay in a nearby cabin while making our preparations for the summer’s voyaging, rather than trying to work around piles of boxes and engine parts to sleep on board. We stopped briefly on the way to check on Nine Lives and meet the cleaner, who was just finishing up. We also confirmed that the existing lettering had been removed and Nine Lives was ready for her new script.

We ate at the lodge that evening, and after a good night’s sleep we were ready to begin. In addition to the usual chores, the first priority was to install the new lettering, as the final ceramic coating is put on after the letters are installed. I was able to find a company that would use my design for the name, and this time we chose to have the main script somewhat darker, while the cat’s eye and whiskers are gold.

After starting the process to shock (sanitize) the water tanks, we gathered the various tools and started with the letters for the hailing port that go at the back of the boat. This process was made somewhat tricky by the need to stand in the dinghy to do it. We learned a few things in the process, so it was a good plan to start with the smallest and least visible. Next, the big job, 10 feet of the Nine Lives name (to be done twice, one for each side). We decided to do it in 3 pieces, plus the separate eye and whiskers. Doing it in smaller sections was definitely more successful. The next day when we added the registration numbers we felt like old pros after all the practice.

The place where we put the hailing port, Hilton Head Island, is tricky to access

Flushed with our success, we set off to have dinner at The Outpost. Dick had enjoyed a good burger there earlier in the year, so we were expecting a nice meal. Sadly, this was one of the worst we have ever had. Our cheese curd starter was well overdone, and the loaded waffle fries with pulled chicken was stone cold. We sent it back and got a slightly warmer replacement that was still pretty much inedible. Dick’s “Hungry Man” dinner was huge. He ate the ribs and some of the pulled pork, and took the rest of it and the half chicken away in a box. My dish was so awful that not even Dick was willing to eat it as leftovers.

The next day Dick drained and refilled the water tanks. The tech was already there preparing Nine Lives for the final ceramic coat over the lettering. After buffing she looks quite gorgeous! I prepared the usual bags of cloves that discourage ants and other critters from visiting the kitchen cupboards and drawers. Dick made multiple trips from the vehicle to unload and bring all the boxes and bags on board for putting away. His next project was collecting the bags of steel shot that had been delivered to the marina office. He ordered 10 bags, to be used as ballast at the front of the boat. Interestingly, they were shipped in “flat rate” boxes by US Post Office. Each bag weighs 50 pounds. Only 9 actually arrived, and one was already out of the shipping box. Dick had to make 3 trips, as 150 pounds is the absolute maximum that can be safely transported in the loading cart down the ramp to the docks.

50 lb bags of steel shot shipped in flat rate boxes

That evening we made a quick stop for last-minute groceries at the Kroger in Corinth. It was a much better shop than any other we had found, so we may be able to consider provisioning there in future, instead of transporting everything from Hilton Head. The highlight was, as usual, dinner at our favourite restaurant in the area, Vicari’s. I could not resist my usual smoked trout pate to start, while Dick enjoyed his calamari. Dick’s choice for main course was sea bass on a bed of spinach, and I had fried lobster tail with a quite delicious creamy blue cheese hash brown potato dish. Desserts (always a must at Vicari’s) were crepes with strawberries Romanoff for Dick, and crème brulee cheesecake for me.

Vicari’s fried lobster tail with blue cheese potatoes

We decided on an early night after all the hard work and a big meal, but Dick had just settled down when he had to get dressed again to meet the boat cleaner at the lodge and hand over cash to pay for the job. She had been unable to find a bank that would cash the personal check. This is the unfortunate situation here in USA. The mechanism used by small businesses in UK, where one simply does a bank transfer to pay for goods and services, is not done here. There are a few options, but they are seldom used. At the same time, personal checks are accepted in very few places, and rarely for cashing, just a deposit and funds held until the money clears. Very difficult for a small individual business like our boat cleaner. In future we will know to be prepared with cash. We will certainly hire her again, as she did a great job.

Next morning, we packed up the food from the cabin and transported it to Nine Lives, where the fridges and freezers had been cooled ready. While Dick played with bags of steel shot, I cut up the celery into single stick packets and put them into the freezer. We use so little of the celery bundles that one buys in the supermarket, that this is a good alternative to buying fresh every time.

It is amazing what things you find that you haven’t seen for ages when you have to completely empty lockers. There was a rotary laundry hanger, and even a toolbox with spare parts. Getting the bags of shot into the forward pontoon on the port side was tricky. There is a water line across the pontoon that the bags had to be lifted over, and there was no way that Dick could get in there past the watermaker to lift them over. He had to settle for sort of tossing them from a prone position halfway into the pontoon. I decided that a photo of Dick’s backside sticking out of the cupboard was not required for this account of our travels, but I did manage a picture of the small pile of heavy bags after he vacated the space.

bags of ballast tossed past the water line in the forward port pontoon

The starboard side was much easier. Just as well, as more bags were to be put in there to balance the boat. All the extra refrigeration, the generator, and the propane tank are on the port side, and Dick is certain we added the better part of 1000 lbs of provisions, thus giving Nine Lives a distinct list to port! I am not sure it’s really 1000 lbs, but the man who loaded and unloaded the car, then wheeled it all the better part of ¼ mile down the docks to the boat in multiple trips says that’s how much it was. There is access to the starboard pontoon from above, through the locker where we keep chairs and extra canvas and fenders. Dick cleverly used one of the fender boards (after first tying it off to avoid disaster) and slid the bags down into the pontoon. He could then use the boat hook to reposition them. The final two bags are just sitting in the locker, so can be removed if we are now front heavy. I can say that the ballast certainly does make a difference. We can see that the bottom paint at the waterline is now very close to equal at both bow and stern, and less water pools in the corners of the showers.

sliding the ballast into the forward starboard pontoon

June 23^rd. Underway at last! We added a small amount of diesel, but we already knew that fuel is cheaper further north by about $1/gallon, and we want absolutely full tanks before heading up the Ohio. Diesel is reportedly scarce on the river. We had a short wait at Pickwick lock. The lockmaster initially said 2 hours, and we could tie up on the lock wall while a split tow finished, but he decided to put us through the auxiliary chamber early, so our wait was less than an hour.

waiting for passage through Pickwick lock

Here is a good spot to review how we handle these big Army Corps of Engineers locks on the rivers. I prepare the boat (fenders and a mid-ships line ready), and then we change places and I drive the boat into the lock and maneuver Nine Lives close to the wall where there are floating bollards. Dick uses the boat hook to get the line around the bollard, which floats down (or up) as the lock empties (or fills). I remain at the helm and may occasionally need to use the engines to realign us to the wall if turbulence starts us spinning out of position. Keeping the engines running is somewhat controversial, but we only need to do this in the very big locks, and we have never been asked by a lockmaster to turn them off. Locking complete and doors open, Dick retrieves the line as I drive off, and then we switch places again so I can put away the line and stow the fenders until the next lock. We use headsets to communicate throughout the process. These make a huge difference, no need for shouting or trying to make hand signals while wrestling with lines.

Dick tends the line beside the floating bollard at another lock

As we made our way north on the Tennessee River, we passed several houses that had all but collapsed. It appeared to be tornado damage, one house looked as though a huge fist had smacked down in the middle of the roof. The houses are a write-off, and yet other buildings nearby were untouched. One was completely reduced to rubble that had slid down the river bank. It is confusing that we are travelling north, but going downstream. The Tennessee climbs up from the Ohio River into the foothills of the Appalachians, navigable as far as Knoxville.

We arrived at Clifton by 3:30. Dick walked into town, but as the marina owner had told him, there was really nothing to see! We had dinner at the marina restaurant (a major contrast to Vicari!) Pretzels with beer cheese to start. Dick was conservative and ordered bangers and mash, but I was adventurous and tried the bacon popper grilled cheese. Bacon poppers are jalapeno peppers, filled with cream cheese and wrapped in bacon. They were put inside a traditional grilled cheese sandwich. It was very tasty! That evening the entertainment was a highlight, we always enjoy live music. This was LOUD, but very talented guys. They played rock and country rock, including Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction”, Brooks and Dunn “Lost and Found in a Border Town”, and a fantastic blues version of Happy Birthday for a member of the audience. Another audience member joined the group and sang “Green River”, one of Credence Clearwater Revival’s big hits. At the break the group came over to our table and introduced themselves. The lead singer had lived and worked in Bluffton, so he knew Hilton Head well. He is now based in Nashville, and his day job is installing air conditioning units for hospitals and clean rooms. For a change Dick was happy to stay nearly to the end of the evening without my having to nail him to the chair!

beautiful ironwork on balconies on a historic former hotel in Clifton

live music in Clifton, great rock and roll

We made an early start the next day and anchored in Birdsong Creek before 3pm. There were a lot of little boats out on the water, but nobody else anchored in the place we enjoyed last autumn. We had thought about visiting the pearl farm, but it was very hot, so we just stayed on board. We enjoyed our traditional first night at anchor bottle of bubbly with a few snacks, followed by grilled steaks, baked potatoes, mushrooms, and corn.

It was a quiet night, although several times we were gently rocked by wakes. Chef Dick cooked his signature full breakfast, eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, mushrooms and toast. The anchor came up easily, the new motor and gear unit on the windlass working well. The weather app said it was 94F, “feels like 104”. It did.

Danville Grain Terminal at winter pool last fall

Danville Grain Terminal as we passed it at summer pool

It was a relatively short trip to Paris Island, and we were tied up by 1pm. Dick scouted the area, and arranged for a ride to the conference center where we had dinner. To our surprise, the waitress refused to serve alcohol to me because I did not have ID with me. Research suggests this is a new problem in Tennessee, seniors being carded and refused drinks without proof of age. The waitress was wrong, there is an exception for anyone who looks older than 50 (!), but there was nothing to be done, she was adamant. It was also irritating that Dick had been served a beer in the bar earlier without any ID requested. The food was indifferent.

We had an uneventful, if windy ride north on a somewhat lumpy Kentucky Lake to Green Turtle Bay. We were fine, but some of the small boats that were out and about were bouncing a lot, and sailors were in their element! We were tied up in Green Turtle Bay by 1:45. Nine Lives enjoyed the compliments from the dockmaster, “beautiful boat”, and we also enjoyed hearing “you’ve done that before” as Dick maneuvered into the 22 foot wide slip without touching the sides, and I passed the lines to the waiting audience.

The next entertainment (for us) was watching TowBoatUS bring in a 45-foot Silverton aft cabin to the slip near us. On a windy day it took several tries. There were only women on board, a lot of boat for 3 of them. Apparently, they made a mistake when topping up with fuel that morning, adding gasoline to the diesel tanks. Very bad for the engines!

We were delighted to learn that GTB now rents golf carts that can be taken into town. We had dinner at Patti’s, an easy bike ride, but having had problems with hip and back, I was happy to postpone the bike riding until another day. It was a good dinner, but we were carded again for alcohol. Here it was apparently a new town ordinance. I believe it is an attempt to reduce teenage drinking (in US the drinking age is 21), but carding seniors would seem to be pointless. This time I was prepared and had put my licence into my pocket.

Just as we left for dinner, we realized that there was no water, the tanks were empty but the gauge showed ¾ full. We hoped it was just the gauge and not the pump. On our return from dinner Dick added water to the tanks and we were happy to find that everything worked as it should. It would seem that the gauge is now defective, so we will have to take extra care not to run out of water.

One of the tachometers was not working, and had not corrected itself after several days of cruising. This has been an ongoing issue for some years, but only after the boat has been left for a while. Two electrical techs came on board to see if they could diagnose the problem. They wiggled some wires and then said that it wasn’t what Dick had thought, and could not easily be fixed in the time available. To Dick’s great surprise, the tach started working the next time the engine was started, so whatever they wiggled must have fixed the issue.

We had an enjoyable day. We went into town and were surprised and pleased by the selection of food at the small grocery store. We could have bought frozen alligator tail meat, crawfish, oysters, or catfish, but we contented ourselves with some shrimp. We visited the various boutiques that are part of Patti’s complex, surrounded by beautifully kept, shady gardens. We found a throw pillow that will work in place of the short cockpit seat cushion that was inadvertently left at home. In the afternoon we played bridge online with our English bridge club. We enjoyed the game and finished in the top half, but it was embarrassing that after two years of rock-solid performance, the mi-fi (internet router) cut out 3 times. We are noticing reduced performance, especially by afternoons, and have our suspicions. It is just a couple of months since the 24-month purchase contract was complete and the gadget was paid for, and one thinks, hmmm, planned obsolescence. If we have a lot of issues, we will give up on T-Mobile for internet service on board, and go with the newly available Starlink system, which is satellite based. Later in the afternoon we went over to another boat and enjoyed docktails with new Loopers.

bird houses in the gardens at Patti’s in Grand Rivers

an old truck on display at Patti’s… note the sign on the door, Please Don’t Climb On Me, I am old and tired.

Pink Tractor, a boutique in Grand Rivers

The next day we needed an early start, with 2 locks and 54 miles to go, plus getting fuel and a pump-out on the way out. There was no wait at the first lock, other than for the lockmaster to turn it around. We have seen lots of osprey nesting on the daymarks. Other wildlife has included at least one bald eagle, golden eagles, turkey vultures, cormorants, and one pelican. On the Cumberland River we saw what was probably a coyote, but might also have been a large fox. Asian carp seem to be under better control. An electronic barrier has been installed below Barclay Lock, and we saw few above it. There were many dead carp below the dam and the barrier. The Cumberland River was enjoyable as always, industry can be as interesting as scenery. We were glad that we didn’t meet any tows on the narrow, winding river.

Ospreys nesting on a daymark in Kentucky Lake

At Smithland lock our luck ran out and we lost 4 hours. There were 2 upbound tows waiting. The lockmaster said he would have sneaked us through, but one of the tows was carrying chemicals. He said he would not put any tows down until after our passage, but eventually he came on the radio to say that the downbound tow had empty barges and he would be putting it through. Once we were finally in the lock, we found out what had happened. The lockmaster came and told us that a crewmember on the downbound tow had been threatening to kill the other crew (!), so the police came to the lock to arrest him and take him off. I am glad we knew nothing about that until it was over!

downbound tow leaves the lock after the arrest

Leaving the lock, we ran fast to make up some time and burn off the carbon that would have accumulated while we were idling. We were anchored by 6:40, a long day.

So far the Ohio looks like the Mississippi, not very interesting. We are hoping it improves, especially as we get nearer to the mountains.

We passed a quiet night, although I was most unhappy about our position in the anchorage, very close to the shore. We were out by 9am, after one of Dick’s signature breakfasts.

We passed Cave-in-Rock, an unprepossessing place, with crumbling buildings and a huge LaFarge quarry just north of the town. Now a state park, the cave in the rock is easily seen from the river, and was a notorious base for pirates and outlaws from 1790 thorough the 1870’s. In the mid-1800’s, the cave was being used as a church, despite its history as a tavern, gambling den, brothel, and base for a range of criminal activities including piracy, murder, extortion, and counterfeiting. Several unfortunates were murdered by pushing them off the cliff above the cave, including one fellow who had been the only survivor of a pirate raid, but was subsequently tied to his horse and forced off the cliff. While some of the victims survived the drop, neither the man, nor the horse were among the fortunate. The church services clearly did not do much to engender human kindness and upright living, as the succession of outlaws and criminal behaviour continued until the last leader of the local gangs was assassinated in the 1880’s.

rock formations on the Ohio south of the Saline River

We were anchored by 3pm, lots of swinging room and plenty shallow, but certainly not what you would call a pretty spot. Dinner was a tasty new recipe, a one pot meal of ground pork, peppers and onions, marinara sauce, pasta, and thickened with mozarella cheese. It was delicious, definitely a keeper!

threatening sky at the anchorage south of John T Meyers lock

The next morning, Dick consulted the lockmaster, and was advised that there were 4 big tows coming up. We pulled anchor at 6:30am, to make sure we were ahead of them, and were through the lock by 8am. This allowed us an early arrival at Evansville, tied up by 2pm. Dick had seen how spread out the city is, so he arranged a rental car for our 3-day stay. Enterprise will pick you up if they are not too busy, so our timing was good.

We had dinner at a German restaurant in a historic hardware building. The beautiful interior has been sadly neglected. Dick chose it because it was the top restaurant in the area as chosen by local residents. This might have been an error in judgement. I am not fond of German food generally, but they offered Wiener schnitzel (Austrian), so I thought it would be good. Beer was served in a frosted fish bowl, a good start, but it went downhill from there. We started with ham rolls, sort of croquettes, that were overdone and lacked any trace of ham. Dick was in hog heaven with a dish of pig’s knuckles. Ugggh. My Wiener schnitzel was the worst I have ever tasted. Even the fries were awful.

beer served in a fishbowl, a good start!

Although we rented a car, there is sadly little that we would want to do in the area. A zoo with most of the animals missing, an arts and science museum firmly directed at children, and various wetland parks. Walks in the heat and humidity with the opportunity to get eaten alive by mosquitoes do not appeal.

We found 3 interesting shops to visit. Dick tried to visit the Tourist Information Bureau, but it is inexplicably closed on weekends. The shops were a long way apart. Evansville is a strange city, crisscrossed by highways and the interstate. There is an odd mix of homes, manufacturing, and big box stores all mixed together. One area of downtown is being revitalized with converted buildings turned into loft apartments, and lots of coffee shops and gathering places, but no shops. The lovely old Post Office building has been beautifully renovated and turned into an events venue and office space. I also liked the distinctive Greyhound Bus station building, now a burger bar in trendy downtown. We took time to look at the other marina in the area, that Dick had planned to stay at, but they said they could not fit us in. A fortunate escape, as it was every bit as dreadful as the online reviews suggested, so we were glad to be at the alternate location. The cookery shop was a highlight, and we came away with several items that we could not possibly live without, even though we had previously been unaware of their existence.

The Old Post Office building in Evansville

Repurposed Greyhound Bus Terminal in Evansville, now a burger bar

An evening gathering with a cookout, live music, and fireworks was planned, and it carried on in spite of quite a lot of rain and thunderstorms drenching the proceedings. The fireworks didn’t happen. We didn’t join the gathering (although we were invited), as it seemed to be very local, with a lot of people in bathing suits, well lubricated before arriving! Three sheets to the wind, if we want to use a nautical metaphor!

Sunday, we stayed on board, taking care of laundry, catching up with emails, and I began writing this first installment of the blog. Thunderstorms came through with heavy rain, so it was a good day to stay in. The rain cleared just in time to go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant, Biaggi’s, a small chain. The food was excellent, nothing like the usual chain fare. Dick had a beet and walnut salad to start, and I tried two different bruschettas. One was mushroom, the other was shrimp and crab. My white pizza with mushrooms was a taste sensation, and Dick said his rigatoni was also excellent. For dessert we tried a tiramisu special, with fruit juice and berries instead of the usual coffee flavours. This was less successful, as it was far too sweet for our taste. We tried to figure out how we could eat there again on our return trip, Uber being the only possibility, as it is a long distance from the marina. Evansville is very spread out. There is a nice waterfront with a park, and boat launching facilities, but no dockage at all. Also on the waterfront is the LST-325, a WWII landing ship tank that can be toured.

Tiramisu (and lots of delicious leftovers) at Biaggi’s

Next morning, July 3^rd, we got an early start so Dick could return the rental car. We filled the water tanks, and got a pump-out in anticipation of 3 nights anchoring after our next stop. We were put through the lock with no wait, so we were tied up in Owensboro by 2:30pm. Dick had told me this was a rusty, nearly derelict dock, so I was pleasantly surprised to find sturdy, wide wooden docks, albeit with no rubber. There are no facilities, and it is quite a distance from town, but so far the town has not acted on an approved proposal and existing funding for a transient facility downtown.

another picture of the park on the waterfront at Owensboro

July 4^th was a quiet day. I watched the antics at the very busy boat launch, while Dick got some exercise. He took a 20-mile bike ride to explore Owensboro, visit the Post Office, and get a few groceries. Later, we were made an offer we simply could not refuse without giving great offense, prime rib and hanging out with some good old boys in the pavilion on the shore. One of the fellows was beyond drunk, and engaged each of us in long conversations. He was past the stage of slurring his words, having trouble even finding them! Our host, the fellow who invited us to join them, was considerably less inebriated, and was very interesting to talk to. He is a former tow captain, who used to take barges up and down the Lower Mississippi and the Ohio. Now he is working on the marina, installing and repairing the docks, etc. Later Dick enjoyed talking with a fellow from Michigan who now lives in Owensboro. The prime rib was very good, according to Dick, but I didn’t try any, far too rare for me! As a guy the next morning put it when we chatted, “knock the horns off and serve”. The fireworks looked very good, but we were not able to see more than glimpses, because of the tree covering. After our evening of local culture, we turned in early, with a long day ahead of us.

Next morning, we passed Owensboro. We could see pilings for a large dock just south of downtown, but no dock installed. There is an extensive riverfront park and $9 million allocated for a marina, but the project was put on hold in 2021. It is always hard for us to understand the lack of willingness to welcome transient boaters to a town. Unlike local pontoon boaters and fishermen, bigger boats and crews bring a lot of money to the shops and restaurants of a town if they are able to visit. Even a safe dinghy dock works, but we don’t even find those in this part of the country.

another view of the waterfront of Owensboro

We passed a number of interesting and historic towns, all with boat ramps, none with docks. Visitors NOT welcome! We had an early start in anticipation of a long day, but we ran fast for a few miles as we needed to pass several large tows going in both directions. We arrived at our anchorage earlier than expected. The planned spot was a river inlet, but it was quite narrow, and there was a lot of debris and no current to hold us in line and stop Nine Lives from swinging into the shore. We backtracked down the Ohio for ½ mile and anchored in a wide area of the river, well off the sailing line. We anchored in 30 feet of water, a lot deeper than usual, so Dick was glad he had increased the length of chain when he replaced the anchor rode.

The anchor rode is the stuff that goes between the anchor, and the boat, the line, if you like. It can be rope or chain, usually a combination of the two. I find it interesting to learn that the amount of chain vs rope is in fact cultural. Here in North America, the most common is a few meters of chain and a lot of rope, and those who care about such things will defend their choice fiercely, in technical terms that include tension, elasticity, catenary, and other important aspects. The story in Europe is the opposite, there, an all-chain rode is the most common. Dick has always preferred the European model, but after reading all the discussions on the AGLCA forum, when he replaced our 180 foot all-chain rode with new, he opted for 200 feet of chain with a further 20 feet of rope. This allowed us the safer option of 7:1 scope in 30 feet of water. (Scope is how much anchor rode you play out. 7:1 is considered safest for overnight anchoring, 5:1 is acceptable, and as little as 3:1 is doable in a shallow area for a short stop, not overnight). We were anchored, alarms set, and ready for adult beverages by 3:45.

Overnight, we moved less than 10 meters, in spite of a number of tows passing through the night. We had left the radio on, so we knew what was happening, and in case a tow needed to hail us, although we were well off the channel and our anchor light was on. Debris had collected around the anchor rode and bridle, but it slid away as Dick began the process to raise anchor. We have noticed a lot of debris in the river, especially in the mornings. There have been heavy thunderstorms in the area, that will always tend to wash down dead trees and branches, but the sheer amount of debris is unexpected. I would not want to recommend a go-fast boat make this trip, unless they were prepared to wallow at trawler speed.

Underway, we passed the replica of the Pinta. She was built in Brazil, using the same methods and hand tools as the original used by Christopher Columbus 500 years ago. She had been visiting Cincinnati and other stops on the Ohio. We remembered seeing her sister ship, the Nina, in 2017 on the Hudson River.

The Pinta heading south on the Ohio River after visiting Cincinnati

The Pinta, a slightly oversized replica of Columbus’s ship

The scenery has improved, with more varied topography. It is certainly pretty, but it is miles and miles of the same thing. After a while it becomes very boring with no changes to look at, and unlike the Mississippi trip, we are seeing almost no wildlife. We decided that one very long day of boredom was better than two shorter ones, so we cut one anchoring spot from our plans and arranged to arrive a day early in Louisville. We also went for miles with no internet signal. Unprecedented these days. It is definitely the land that time forgot. There weren’t even any pleasure boaters or fishermen.

At one point we passed a huge quarry, Mulzer Crushed Stone, at Charleston, Indiana. Crushed limestone, sand, and gravel is used in construction projects, including aggregate for highways and commercial and residential construction. We were fascinated, watching enormous dump trucks filling waiting barges. In one area the trucks backed up and tipped the load directly into the barge. At another location, the stone was tipped into a hopper, and from then carried on a conveyor and poured into the barge. As soon as each truck was empty and drove off, another full one took its place. Looked at on google earth, the quarry is an enormous scar on the landscape, and there are an amazing number of quarries alongside most of the big rivers in this industrial heartland. In addition to road construction, aggregate is also used for making cement, lime, and for agriculture. Wikipedia tells us that concrete is the most widely used material in existence, and behind only water as the planet’s most consumed resource. If the cement industry was a country, it would be the third largest carbon dioxide emitter on earth, behind only China and USA. Concrete and cement require huge amounts of power to manufacture. In many cases on our travels, we see an entire power plant next door to a cement plant. Perhaps those who wish to put a stop to the use of fossil fuels need to learn a few lessons about what other aspects of human endeavour require power, not just home heating and running our personal vehicles.

Mulzer Crushed Stone, Charleston Indiana

dumping directly from the truck into a barge at Mulzer Crushed Stone

Social commentary over, and back to the voyage, we passed the town of New Amsterdam, which claims the distinction of being the smallest town in the United States, with a recorded population of 1 in the 2000 census. It is possible that only one person responded to the survey, this being a part of the country that is not in favour of government oversight and interference. Smallest town makes a good story, but the reality is that there are, in fact, a surprising number of towns in the USA that are smaller than New Amsterdam with its more accurate current recorded population count of 13.

We planned to anchor in the Salt River at West Point, Kentucky, but again there was debris and no current in the river to keep us aligned. It is possible to set out a second anchor, but that would be quite a bit of trouble, and it was much easier to backtrack a mile and again anchor in the river, on the Indiana side this time. We were across from the Fort Knox Military Reserve, and yes, the Reserve is adjacent to the United States Bullion Depository, which houses a large portion of the United States’ gold reserves. We were finally set by 6pm, but after starting at 7:30am, it had been a very long day.

Apple Cinnamon Beer bread to enjoy with a cup of tea

September 22 to October 4, Quincy to Pickwick Lake

Our second day in Quincy was a good day for chores. I took care of laundry, Dick defrosted the fridge, and then made a run for grocery shopping. Sid on Tranquility arrived mid-afternoon, and joined us for dinner at Boodalu in the evening. Good steaks and enjoyable company.

Nine Lives and Tranquility on the dock at Quincy

The next morning, as we prepared to leave, the strap that I use to keep the power cords from sliding into the water jumped out of my hand as I undid it and landed in the water. “Catch it!” I said to Dick, who instantly flopped full length onto the dock and retrieved it, just as it began to sink. He learned the flopping technique in high school football. You never know when lessons learned as a teenager will pay off in later life! Sadly, Dick’s favourite white t-shirt is now relegated to painting and oil changes, as the Quincy dock had just that week been resealed and was still a bit tacky. So a $30 shirt was sacrificed to save a $.99 strap…

Our trip to Two Rivers was very cold. I needed to get out warm socks, insulated vest (gilet), winter gloves, and rain jackets. It was certainly a big change from our trip up-river, when the temperatures were well over 90. Fortunately, the rain let up at both locks, and we had no waits. It also slacked off for our arrival and tying up.

Dredging the Mississippi south of Quincy

We had a bit of an adventure as we entered the channel to the marina. I was standing on the deck waiting with the lines, and I felt the port-side pontoon climb a hill! We had run aground at the channel entrance, with just one pontoon. It was a very strange sensation. We were fast aground, and the dockmaster was preparing to contact a helper to pull us off. Dick powered backwards, hard, for several minutes, and we sort of slewed sideways without actually coming free. At last, with a surge of very black smoke from the engine, we floated back out into the channel. The engine stopped smoking almost immediately, but a muddy brown stream shot out from the exhaust for quite a while before it ran clear.

Dick changed the approach to come from downstream and we got through the channel without further ado. Later, when Dick checked, the starboard strainer was empty, but the one on the port engine was ¾ full of mud. The rest of the uncaptured mud would have gone through the engine heat exchanger and into the water-cooled exhaust before washing out of the side of the boat as a muddy stream. Not recommended for the health of the engine.

That evening we had homemade pizza on board. This last couple of weeks there are fewer opportunities for eating out, and more for eating up what we have on board.

The next day was a very pretty trip to Alton, with no locks to contend with. We passed many tows with a full load of 15 barges, all empty. We wondered whether this was in preparation for harvest time further north. Also, the Missouri River was very low, and tows were being advised by the Coast Guard to get off that river entirely.

Fishing on the Mississippi south of Rockport

We arrived in Alton with enough time to get fuel and a pump-out. We discovered that we were at the end of the furthest pontoon in the marina, and as far from all the other Loopers as it would be possible to get. We had hoped to resume friendly chats and possible docktails, but this was unlikely at such a distance. We did make an effort to visit one of the other docks, and Dick collected a few boat cards, but there really wasn’t the same easy interaction as happens when you share a dock.

Gentelin’s, on our third visit, started out wonderfully with delicious appetizers. We shared potstickers, and toasted ravioli. Dick ordered the duck for his main course, and it was good, although it was two legs instead of the half duck that was on the menu. My tempura lobster was nothing like previous visits. The wrong batter had been used, and the lobster was the mushy texture that you get when you overcook it from frozen. Dessert did not salvage the evening, as it was too sweet.

Potstickers and toasted ravioli at Gentelin’s

A pretty dessert, but far too sweet for our taste

A meeting was called for any Loopers who were planning to leave the next morning. It is always more successful if only one boater contacts the lock, so coordinating the leaving times and appointing a spokesman is a good idea. Unlike a similar meeting last year, nobody brought food or drink, and there was almost no socializing apart from polite introductions. A very different group from our previous experiences.

We were up at 5am, and our group was in position in front of Mel Price lock at 6:45, 4^th in line after 3 tows. It took until 9:30 for our group of 9 boats to be locked through together. The next lock south is Chain of Rocks, at St Louis. Their second chamber was operating, and they were ready for the group to go straight in. We had a lot of trouble holding Nine Lives in the lock, as we had misjudged the length of line needed to wrap around the floating bollard. Dick didn’t want to use our normal long lines, but with the very short line and a strong wind, we were corkscrewing. It took some jumping about to get a longer line in place plus a second stern line, and even then, I had both engines in gear to prevent corkscrewing for almost the whole lock down. Two boats had to raft up, as there were not enough floating bollards for everyone. Normally we would enjoy that, but as soon as we realized we were having trouble we had let the group know we could not be available. We were all through that lock by 11:30am, a pretty good time for the morning.

Looper group waiting at dawn for Mel Price lock

Loopers leaving Mel Price lock 3 hours later

Parked tows on the Mississippi at St Louis

Once past St Louis we speeded up, and with help from the current we got up to 20.4 knots, our fastest speed to date. We had two long days in the plan, and needed to run hard to be able to make the distances.

Normally we would tie up to the lock wall at Kaskaskia, but we happened to be there in the week that they were dredging the area, so boats had to anchor. The lock keepers were very cooperative, allowing anchoring, even though they could have just closed all access. Given the distances involved, that would have been very difficult for many Loopers. We were the first of our group to arrive, but 5 other Looper boats were there first, and had taken up most of the available anchoring space. We tried to go well forward of the others, but the lockmaster sent us back as being too close to the dam. It was clear from our interaction and that with later boats, that the lockmaster really didn’t understand anchoring and how far back a boat needs to go from where the anchor is dropped. We made 3 tries, complicated by a large stump in the area, wind that pushed us too close to the shore, and unhelpful advice from another boater that we were too close to his anchor. All this was done with an audience, and at the end I didn’t know whether we should take a bow or hide our heads.

Once we were finally set, a boat that had locked through with us earlier arrived, and when asked by the lockmaster if he was the last, he said yes. This was not true, as he could not help but know, as he had passed the other boat on the River. The final boat had a very difficult spot to try to fit into. On the following night, the lockmaster arranged for all the boats to lock up and anchor above the lock. This made more sense, and ensured less interference with the dredge as well. The dredge had to move their boom out of the way for every boat that came through, so it would have been much more considerate if everyone had gone together.

Next morning the anchor came up much easier than it went down. We avoided the stump and provided no entertainment for our watching neighbours.

On our second day of fast running and long distance to go we passed a loading terminal for coal and many full barges. I was reminded of a country song on an album from Kathy Mattea, written in 2011, but still very much on point:

>>>

You might think I’m outta date
But if I’m out of style and old
Why do men still dig me
All around the globe?

Hello, my name is coal
And around here I’m the queen
Some say I’m cheap and easy
Oh but they still bow to me
….
They curse me now for what I am
But not that long ago
They sang my praises everywhere
Hello, my name is coal

(excerpt from Coal, written by Jenee Fleenor and Larry Cordle, 2011)

Coal loading terminal on the Mississippi

We passed through the Shawnee National Forest. This whole area of the Mississippi is part of the Trail of Tears, when 60,000 members of the “Five Civilized Tribes” of Native Americans were displaced and sent west between 1830 and 1850. American settlers, mainly from the South, had pressured the government to remove Indians from the southeast, in order to free up the land for settlement. Population growth, the expansion of slavery, and the rapid development of cotton cultivation after the invention of the cotton gin created tensions and the subsequent land grabs. Although there was some opposition, the Indian Removal Act was passed in 1830 and allowed the government to extinguish any Indian land claims in the southeast. Over the next 20 years this law was used to remove entire tribes from their ancestral lands and send them to newly acquired territories west of the Mississippi. Up to 12,000 deaths during the journeys were caused by disease, malnutrition, and exposure during harsh winters.

Something was burning near the river, but we never found out what it was

We had decided not to stop at the usual anchorage at Boston Bar. We found the two previous experiences quite unpleasant, with a very strong current, and high risk from riprap and bridge abutments if the anchor let go. As we passed, we could see that the whole area where we had previously anchored was completely above water. The next option also did not appeal to us, although many Loopers do choose to anchor there. As we passed that anchorage, Angelo Towhead, we could hear chatter from tow operators that they were bumping the bottom in the area of the bridge, and to stay close to the red markers. This put the tows with their large barge trains very close to the area where boats would anchor, so we certainly were not going to risk it. We turned the corner into the Ohio River and headed towards a highly recommended anchorage at mile marker 974.

Boston Bar. When we anchored here in June there was over 8 feet of water under the boat, now it is high and dry

We heard from the Coast Guard that there had been a grounding at mile 974, and, sure enough, when we got there, we saw a tow with two barges full of coal, stuck fast beside the red markers. We turned toward the shore, and fortunately Dick proceeded very slowly, as we suddenly had only 3 feet under the boat. At that point we decide to back off and attempt to get to safer locations above the next lock. The next day, Looper friends tried to anchor at mile 974, and they ran aground suddenly and did some damage to their props, so our decision was the right one. By this time, it was getting quite late, and we knew that going through the lock plus 5 miles further upriver would take at least an hour.

Approaching Olmstead lock. Last year the wickets, the part of the dam on the right side of the picture, were well underwater and we were told to just drive over them instead of locking through.

The anchorage was straightforward to get to, and has plenty of depth. It was not easy to tell whether the anchor had grabbed, so I set both alarms with a small radius. It was peaceful, with little current. Dick decided we would put on our underwater lights as well as the required white anchor light, just to be more visible. So the blue lights went on, and we looked like party animals! Later, Dick had second thoughts and turned the blue lights off to save battery power overnight.

The sun set as we anchored on the Ohio above Olmstead lock

After running hard so much, and forgetting to turn the icemaker off, a major defrosting project was required. Nine Lives tends to sit a little low at the stern anyway, but when running hard, she digs in even more, and the bow is even higher, although she does her very best to level out on plane! If we forget to turn it off, as the icemaker adds water it slops over and runs down behind the ice bucket, creating a frozen block at the back of the machine. Not the project Dick had hoped for at the end of a very long, stressful, and tiring day!

We had a short run to Paducah the next day, so a leisurely start with time for a bacon and egg breakfast. We were there and tied up by mid-afternoon.

We had a good meal at Cynthia’s. So far this seems to be the most consistent of the nice restaurants we have revisited. We started with house smoked salmon for me, and oysters for Dick. For main courses, I enjoyed bacon wrapped pork with cherry sauce, while Dick’s veal scallopine with mushroom sauce was delicious. Dessert is never to be missed at Cynthias, and I could not resist returning to the chocolate slice as previous visits, while Dick loved his peach cobbler.

In the middle of the night, we, and several other boats were boarded. The masked intruder was almost certainly casing the joint, planning to steal. He even peered down one open hatch at the Loopers sleeping below! Oh, and did I mention that he had a stripey tail? Apparently, this raccoon likes to visit the boats, and was checking them out on several nights.

I went to the National Quilt Museum. I had missed it on our previous two visits, and I found it quite surprising. I particularly enjoyed the more traditional quilts, but it was interesting to see some of the other exhibits, including one room with fabric totems, and another Black Lives Matter project with quilted swing coats. While I enjoyed the Quilt Museum, Dick visited the Railroad Museum.

Our Looper friends limped in with damaged props (after attempting to anchor at mile 974), but they were still ready to join us for docktails, followed by dinner at Grill 211. They had booked a haul out and were hoping for a quick repair at Green Turtle Bay. (note, we think the repairs were completed quickly, as they are now on their way again)

Paducah has changed their procedures with their docks. Previously, there was one Parks Department employee, plus a helper, who had dedicated cell phones so that boaters would get straight through to them. They would come to the dock, and help tie up, and also arrange where each boat would be best, knowing what other boats were expected. For some reason, the Parks Department has decided that they are now completely hands off, and boaters are expected to “sort it out”, with no assigned dockage. This can result in small boats taking up the outside spaces, leaving the inside (with shallower water) for bigger boats. It also means (as we saw) that nobody with authority is there to arrange for boaters to close up and leave enough space for the rest. The day we arrived there were two rafted up on the inside, and the next day one boater refused to close up and left a very tight space for the next boat to try to get into between the dock and the rocks. I will mention that while we have met some lovely people as always, overall we are not impressed with either the friendliness or consideration for others of many of the Loopers we encountered this year. Dick has received a request for his opinion on his Paducah experience, so he is hoping to suggest a return to the previous system, at least for the 6 weeks when they are fully booked each night by the Looper pack.

The next day, as we headed up the Cumberland River, we heard the Coast Guard reporting historic low water on the Ohio River between Cairo and Olmstead Lock, and also shoaling around mile markers 972 to 974. It is quite a pretty trip up the Cumberland, in spite of some large quarry operations. There must be good fishing in the river, as we saw many herons, and also eagles and egrets.

Dick phoned Green Turtle Bay to ask for our dock assignment and check that they were not putting us into a narrow slip. He was very disappointed to be told we were to be on a t-head on the far side of the marina, once again, as far from other Loopers as possible. When he told the lady that we were planning to walk to town for dinner, she told him that from that t-head, instead of a mile, the walk would be two and a half miles. He must have sounded very sad, because the nice lady had a rethink, and changed us to Slip Number 1, right beside the bathhouse and the marina office. She said it would be a bit tricky to get into, and she was right! There is a rescue boat permanently docked at the end of that slip, and Nine Lives had to wiggle quite a bit to get in there. I was glad to see our neighbour take his bikes off the finger pier, as I had visions of sweeping them into the water as we made the corner. With lots of help ready from fellow Loopers and dockhands (and thus a large audience), Dick made it look easy and sashayed into the spot without any difficulty.

Green Turtle Bay Slip 1, a tight fit and a tricky maneuver for Nine Lives

We met fellow Endeavourcat 44 owners, and enjoyed looking through each other’s boats and comparing the similarities and differences. They did the Loop in 2018, and sold their boat and planned other retirement activities. Instead, they found that they did not enjoy RVing, so they looked for a new boat, specifically an Endeavourcat, that they could live on full time and repeat the Loop, taking a lot more time.

In the evening we walked over to Patti’s 1880 Settlement Restaurant. It was a bit more than a mile, and undulating, with no sidewalks, but quite a nice walk and we saw deer in the gardens. We had a great evening. The restaurant was extravagantly decorated with lighted greenery with an autumnal theme. The waitresses are dressed in flower print long dresses, and the waiters wear bib overalls. There is a large shop with loads of junk that they hope you will buy while you wait for your table to be ready. We started with an appetizer sampler platter. It had fried pickles, something we have been seeing on menus everywhere this year. I don’t eat pickles, Dick tried a few, but won’t be ordering them in future. The loaded home-made potato chips were very good, as were the mozzarella sticks and the chicken tenders with accompanying sauces. Dick ordered one of the signature pork chops for his main course, while I decided to be adventurous and try a Kentucky Hot Brown. This was slices of ham, smoked turkey, and tomato, on toast, topped with cheese sauce and bacon, and completely buried under homemade potato chips. It was delicious! For dessert Dick went for their famous mile-high coconut cream pie, and I decided on a chocolate martini that was both pretty and tasty. Given the distance and lack of sidewalks (or street lights), we asked for a ride back to the marina, and they took us straight away. The restaurant will pick you up and return you to the marina if you call them, so we had been reasonably confident that we would get the ride back. We will certainly return to Patti’s on our next visit to Green Turtle Bay. It is a complete departure from our usual fine dining options, but very good food, and lots of character.

Patti’s version of the Kentucky Hot Brown

Mile high coconut meringue pie at Patti’s

We were planning several more long days, so we set out shortly after 8am the next morning. We had lots of help and good wishes from fellow Loopers. Our exit was not quite as perfect as the entry, but still impressive. One of the Loopers commented to Dick that he had been watching our progress on Nebo and could not believe how fast we were going. We did set another new record at 22 knots.

Green Turtle Bay Marina in early morning

We were now into Kentucky Lake, a huge, long reservoir created from the Tennessee River by the Tennessee Valley Authority in 1944. The TVA was created by Congress in 1933 as part of Roosevelt’s New Deal. Over time it evolved primarily into an electric utility. We passed a derelict building that we have wondered about previously, and this time I was able to identify it as the Old Danville Grain Elevator/Terminal. It is an enormous concrete structure. It was built on the banks of the Tennessee River in 1914 for the purpose of transferring barge loads of grain and other products to railcars above on the L&N Railroad. It was 6 stories high, and used two huge elevators to move goods from the barges to waiting trains above. Cargos included peanuts, grain, limestone, iron, and cotton. When the TVA began clearing land for the creation of Kentucky Lake the terminal ceased operations. Nobody knows for sure, but the suggestion is that because the structure was so big, and made entirely of concrete, it would have been prohibitively expensive to remove it.

Old Danville Grain Elevator/Terminal on Kentucky Lake

That evening we anchored for the first time in Birdsong Creek. Some of the reviews suggested a very complicated entrance and high risk of grounding, but Dick had good sonar detail on his chart, and seeing another Looper boat already in added to our confidence. We stayed close to the green markers and always had plenty of water below us. We anchored in 10 feet, beside the other Looper boat and well away from shore. It was a very pretty, peaceful spot, in the middle of the Tennessee National Wildlife Refuge. Further up the estuary is a freshwater pearl farm, that we might visit on a future occasion.

After a quiet night I enjoyed watching the sun come up and egrets fishing in the shallows. As we pulled anchor, a hunter showed up with his dog to refurbish the duck blind across the creek.

Egret in early morning at Birdsong Creek

A hunter refurbishes his duck blind on Birdsong Creek

A check on our fuel situation suggested that we had used more than expected on the fast runs from Alton. We decided it would be prudent to add some, rather than risk running dry before we got back to Pickwick Lake. Dick made some phone calls, and found that the next marina south no longer sells diesel, and the further one was not answering their phone and has a reputation for being very expensive. We decided to turn back north and get fuel at Pebble Isle. It was an hour back, so the whole operation added nearly 3 hours to our day. The dockmaster at Pebble Isle was very friendly and chatty, with a real Tennessee country accent. We managed to figure out most of what he said, and guessed the rest!

Abandoned railway bridge/causeway near Johnsonville

The detour meant that we were very late into our planned anchorage at Swallow Bluff Island. We set anchor just as the sun went down. Fortunately, we had stopped there on the way north in June, so we were confident about the location. It was a very quiet night, little wind, and no wakes, and the light current kept us perfectly in place.

Anchored as the sun sets at Swallow Bluff Island

Sunrise and mist on the river at Swallow Bluff Island

The shoreline was sandy, and it was easy to see the evidence of the recent lowering of the water to winter pool. The pool refers to the depth the water is kept at on rivers and lakes when they are controlled by locks. Kentucky Lake has a winter and a summer pool, with a difference of about 5 feet. Winter pool allows room for winter and spring flooding from runoff and precipitation, while summer pool keeps the depth for greater numbers of tow traffic and allows for drought conditions. The pool is measured as the number of feet above sea level. On the Mississippi, the locks and dams are there to maintain navigable depth of the water for commercial traffic, they are not for flood control. Kentucky Lake and the Tennessee River are controlled by dams that generate electricity for the TVA.

It is easy to see the difference between summer and winter pool a few days after the water has been lowered for the winter. The dark brown sand on the shore was covered at summer pool.

Turkey vultures gather on the shore on the Tennessee River

Our last lock for this season was Pickwick lock, a 50-foot lift. It was a very ugly experience. Nine Lives twisted and I couldn’t get her straightened with the engine. I had to take over handling the line on the floating bollard while Dick pushed off at the bow with all his strength to keep the bow from scraping on the wall. We won’t forget that experience in a hurry, and will put out another fender as close to the bow as possible for future locking. We will also request a spot further back in the lock, where there may possibly be less turbulence.

Once in Pickwick Lake it was an easy run to our winter marina at Aqua Yacht. We decided not to stay on board for the last 3 nights, which makes everything easier for packing up, cleaning, and preparing for winter maintenance. We booked into a cabin at Pickwick Lake State Park, where we stayed at the beginning of the season. They have a decent restaurant on site, so no trying to cook either.

On our second evening we treated ourselves to a return to Corinth and Vicari Restaurant, that we enjoyed in June. In this instance our return meal exceeded our previous great experience! I ordered the trout pate again, while Dick tried the stuffed mushrooms. We went onto the chef’s menu (last fine dining experience of this season!) and shared the chateaubriand. It was absolutely delicious. To finish we had crepes with fresh strawberries. Although it is a half hour drive, we will plan to return when we are back to the boat next year.

In case anyone thought we actually eat all that food at the restaurants, here is the stack of take home leftovers!

Dick has spoken with the service manager at Aqua Yacht, and handed over his list of maintenance projects for this winter. He is feeling a lot more positive that the work will in fact be completed as requested, as the staff seemed to be more engaged with the projects this time. The 2000-hour engine service is already on the schedule for next week, and the refurbishing of the gelcoat will be done shortly afterwards. Poor Nine Lives is looking like a stray cat these days, especially after a season on the muddy Mississippi. The gelcoat was already dull when we started out in June, with far too many black rubber marks and other dings and scratches. The previous name was showing through as well, most unfortunate. After refurbishment, the plan is to refinish Nine Lives with a new ceramic coating. There will also be fresh lettering. The owner of the boat cleaning company has also assured Dick that she will be properly cleaned once a month.

This is the final blog issue for 2022. We will resume in late June next year, with plans to go north on the Ohio River to Pittsburgh and then beyond on the Allegany and Monongahela Rivers to the end of navigation. We will return again to Pickwick Lake for the following winter.

Nine Lives 2022 Statistics

States: 8, Mississippi, Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota

Locks: 58 (that’s 29 in each direction)

Miles: 2359

Bottles of Jack Daniels: 5 half gallon bottles

I will mention that unusually this summer, several of our guests shared our enjoyment of Manhattans as an adult beverage, so I am sure that contributed to the high number of bottles emptied. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Fastest speed at wide open throttle, 22 knots, fastest speed at normal throttle, 12.4 knots.

Rivers: 5, Tennessee, Cumberland, Ohio, Mississippi, St Croix

The map of our September travels. You can see the sections where we ran fast south of St Louis

I will leave you with a nice photo of Nine Lives passing the Arch at St Louis taken by a fellow Looper

September 7 to 21, Dubuque to Quincy

We arrived in Dubuque, and looked forward to our second visit to the restaurant, Brazen. It was enjoyable, but not as good as the first visit, and certainly not worth the 45-minute walk. The other problem was crossing the railway tracks. Dubuque’s downtown is divided from the new waterfront area by the Interstate highway (elevated), and railway tracks with level crossings. Trains get held up, often enough and long enough to require special signage suggesting alternate routes for drivers. We had been lucky before, but this time, on our return from the restaurant, we were held up by a train. After waiting for a while, we had to walk back into town, and then make our way to the elevated bridge that allows passage over the tracks. This added quite a bit of time to the walk, on a hot and humid night, and it was dark by the time we got back to the boat. Even then, we could see that the train was still across the tracks and blocking the road.

The next morning, Dick picked up the rental car, and we made a grocery shopping trip. We had dinner at the Copper Kettle. It is a long-established neighbourhood restaurant, in what is quite an unsalubrious part of town. However, the pub was packed, and it is rated as one of the top restaurants in Dubuque. It was incredibly noisy, but the pub food was excellent.

Dubuque is an odd mix. There are some areas with major urban renewal projects, but a lot of areas show neglected turn of the century buildings and homes. The downtown particularly is very spread out, and the division caused by the Interstate and railway through the centre makes access difficult. The roads are in poor condition, except for the new ones in the redeveloped waterfront.

One of the interesting sights in Dubuque is the restored Shot Tower, built in 1856. A shot tower is a structure that uses gravity to create lead shot. Molten lead is poured through a copper grate at the top of the 120-foot tower, that ensures that all the shot is roughly the same size. It then falls to the bottom, landing in a trough of water. As the lead falls, it assumes a spherical shape, and begins to cool, and the water finishes the cooling process and fixes the shape. The story of the shot tower is an unpleasant indictment of common business practice. The tower was built at a time when it should have been a viable business venture, particularly as there were lead mines in the local area, but there was significant competition from a competing shot tower in St Louis. An economic downturn, plus cutthroat pricing on the part of the St Louis business, ensured that the Dubuque tower was never a success. The St Louis company eventually purchased the tower with the sole purpose of shutting down the competing tower. It was never used for its built purpose again. It is the only remaining shot tower west of the Mississippi, and one of the last still standing in the United States.

Dick set off for the 780-mile drive to Brighton Ontario, where he, his sister, and several members of the local church gathered to help move his Mum to a very nice assisted-living complex in another town. The move was successfully completed, and it was also an enjoyable family reunion with sister Betty, brother Ed, and other friends and family.

I remained in Dubuque on the boat. Fellow Endeavourcat owners Erika and Holger stopped for a visit as they were passing through the area on a road trip. Holger was able to solve a mystery for us. We have a connector on one of the side steps that has developed a very slow leak of dirty water. Holger immediately knew that it is caused by a stuck and rusted pressure reducing valve in the connector that allows you to hook up the boat’s water system to town water on the dock. Since we never use this, preferring the safer method of filling our own (clean) tanks as required, we were entirely unaware of the purpose of the connector. It is a relief to know that this is not a big enough problem to be concerned about, and it can wait until we are back in our winter marina to have the problem addressed. Erika and Holger and I went over to the Stone Cliff Winery for lunch.

I visited the National Mississippi River Museum and Aquarium, which surrounds the marina. Although I was told that there were several exhibit areas that were under renovation, it was still a most enjoyable visit. There are displays both indoors and outside, with several raptor aviaries and a few indoor tanks with Mississippi fish and other aquatic species. There is also a lot of information and equipment from the days when Dubuque was a major shipbuilding port. I find it interesting that in both of the museums we have visited on the Mississippi the aviaries house raptors that have been injured and, although healed, cannot be returned to the wild. Other places we have visited house captive bred raptors, and are able to offer flying demonstrations.

Barn Owl at the Mississippi River Museum

There is a calliope on display, and most days around noon it is set to serenade the surrounding area. Calliopes are driven by steam, and were situated at the top of cruise boats near to the steam escape pipe.

The Calliope at the Mississippi River Museum in Dubuque

Some of the boats built in Dubuque during its heyday included towboats, submarine chasers, steamboats, and even a pleasure cruiser for the King of Siam. One of the biggest was the Herbert Hoover, the largest diesel towboat in the inland waters when it was launched in 1931. One of the 100-ton engines arrived on the train backwards, and had to be sent to a turntable 100 miles away before it could be repositioned for loading onto the boat.

The tug offered all modern conveniences!

Another visitor to Nine Lives was Sid and co-captain Nana (a beautiful Goldendoodle) from the sailing catamaran Tranquility. Dick had met and chatted with Sid in Bayport. Sid is doing the Loop single-handed, with a progression of friends and relatives to help out and enjoy various sections of the Loop. I enjoyed his conversation, and we hoped for another meeting further down the River after Dick’s return.

I mostly ate on board, but one day I walked over to the Stone Cliff Winery for an excellent lunch, accompanied by a flight of 5 of their wines. The winery is located in a lovely restored historic building, the former Star Brewery. The chicken bacon ranch wrap was very tasty, and the chocolate lover’s cheesecake was delicious. I bought two bottles of their fruit wines, which I really liked. They were described as sweet, but I found them intensely fruity (raspberry), not sweet at all.

Chocolate Lover’s Cheesecake at Stone Cliff Winery

As I walked along the levee, I enjoyed reading the various plaques and looking at the interesting modern art installations. One of the information tidbits was a comparison of cargo capacities for various modes of transportation. One river barge carries 1500 tons of cargo. A 15-barge tow carries 22,500 tons. A jumbo hopper car on a train carries 100 tons, while a 100-car train will hold 15,000 tons. A large semi-trailer (articulated lorry for our UK friends) carries just 26 tons. 90 million tons of cargo moves each year on the Mississippi River between St Paul and St Louis.

One evening, Twilight arrived at her regular berth. Twilight is a pretty river cruise ship that brings passengers back and forth from Le Clare, just north of Quad Cities. The passengers stay overnight at a Dubuque hotel and return the next day to their starting point. Immediately behind Twilight, a much larger cruise ship, Celebration Belle, moved into the harbour. The ship turned around, passing just about 15 feet from Nine Lives. She then took up a position across the harbour, with her gangway extended to the T-head dock next to ours. She was bringing her passengers on a one day, 100-mile cruise from Moline. The passengers got off and were returned to Moline by bus. I was not concerned, not at all… I wasn’t sure whether to brandish a boathook, or put on a life jacket! Celebration Belle was still in place when I got up the next morning.

Twilight enters the harbor with Celebration Belle behind

The next morning began a day of juggling cruise ships and their respective passengers. Twilight set off on her return journey, having embarked her passengers after their night in a hotel and breakfast, with time to visit the museum. Two large cruise ships arrived during the morning at the main dock outside the harbour, one of them our old friend Viking Mississippi. Both ships stayed for several hours, and offered sightseeing bus trips for their passengers. Celebration Belle ran 3 sightseeing trips on the River, 2 from the dock next to us in the harbour. Their 3^rd trip was a dinner dance, and I would have liked to watch the passengers arriving, (presumably) all dressed up, but by then the main cruise dock was available, so they were outside the harbour and I couldn’t see them. A friend tells me that Dubuque is the largest city in Iowa that is on the Mississippi, and it is clearly doing well at attracting tourism from the River in the form of cruise ships. Such a pity that they can’t quite get their act together for individual boaters with their outstanding marina.

Laundry uses quite a lot of water, so it was necessary for me to fill the tanks. Normally this is one of Dick’s jobs. He had conveniently left the hose hooked up to the water connection on the dock, and the hose was ready on the deck. I got off the boat, and gave the connector the half turn required to start the water flowing. Well, city water tends to be under quite a lot of pressure, so immediately I opened the valve, the hose on the deck started dancing around, ultimately directing a stream of cold water underneath my bike and showering me. Dick shakes his head, but I braved the still dancing hose to seize it and wash down the decks before inserting it into the fill on the front deck. The high pressure meant that the tank seemed to be full when it wasn’t, so water gushed up from the tank and more sprayed all over. At this point my brain engaged, and I got off the boat again and reduced the flow by half. The fill then completed properly.

Army Corps of Engineers tow and barge in Dubuque Harbor

The day of Dick’s expected return, some more Loopers arrived in the harbour. Asea and Bob were just one week into their Loop. They joined me on board for a glass of wine in the evening, with the plan for proper docktails once Dick was back the next day. I really enjoyed their company, lovely people, with a great sense of humour. The next morning, Bob came by to tell me that their forward compartment was full of water. They were able to get an immediate haul out at a marina just up the river, and once the extent of the damage was revealed, they realized just how fortunate they were, as they could very easily have been sunk at the dock. Their story continues, but they have repairs already underway, and the insurance company, and the boatyard, could not have been more helpful. We hope to see them again, if not on the rivers, perhaps in Hilton Head in the spring.

Dick returned a little later than he expected, mainly due to a lot of traffic from construction in the Chicago area. On arrival at the marina, he discovered that our gate code no longer worked. Our keycard was also disabled. It is a very good thing that I didn’t go out before we found out! It turned out that the wrong dates had been entered in our record, so our card and code were automatically disabled. The helpful dockmaster reinstated our card as soon as he found out, having picked up my phone message even before his 11am arrival for work.

Dinner at the nearby Woodfire Grill, located in the casino, started well but rather tailed off. The waitress was very rushed, running about like a chicken, and forgetting to deliver bread until we asked for it. I started with very tasty, crisp avocado rolls, and Dick said his calamari was some of the best. For main courses, Dick had prime rib, and I ordered their filet steak. Dessert was an overly sweet cheesecake with fruit topping. The food was good, but after the excellent appetizers, it was not very memorable.

An 8am start the next morning, and we were at last embarked on our final push to return to Pickwick Lake. At the first lock there was entirely unexpected rain, and when the lockmaster offered to allow us to float free, we accepted the opportunity to stay dry. We figured the lockmaster probably didn’t want to get wet coming out to give us the lines either! Fortunately, our rain jackets fit over our life jackets, so when the time came for me to retrieve the fenders, only legs and feet got wet, along with my gloves. The gloves are definitely in need of replacement, or at least a good wash. As I returned to the cockpit, Dick, who, like most husbands, usually has no sense of smell, commented on the strong eau de wet dog, that seemed to be emanating from his lovely wife.

The rain continued on and off during the day. As we passed a southbound tow just a few miles north of lock 13, Dick heard the chatter on the radio, and it was clear that a lock down was scheduled for 2:15 pm. He made contact, and was told to come ahead. A bass boat fishing tournament was scheduled to lock down at exactly 2:15. There were more than 40 bass boats in the lock, with fishermen holding onto the lines along the sides, and a few needing to raft up. The timing was set precisely, so we had about 20 minutes to wait after we took our own lines. Strong winds meant that I was unable to hold Nine Lives in place using the engine, certainly not for that length of time, so I took the stern line, and had to cleat it until the gates finally closed. Meanwhile, it continued to rain, and all those poor fishermen, two per boat, had to stand there getting wet while waiting for the rest of the contestants. At 2:15 exactly the gates began to close, and then to everyone’s great disappointment, they opened again for two stragglers. Finally, they closed for good, and the lock down started, to everyone’s relief, I am sure. We were advised to let the tournament leave first, a decision we had already made! It was a surprisingly orderly exit. As the last boat left the lock, a buzzer sounded, presumably to resume the tournament timing.

We arrived at Clinton Marina. It was raining hard and very windy. This will be another marina with a poor review from us. The marina was built with the piers perpendicular to the current, resulting in awful swirls and great difficulty getting into the slips. Dick had to make 3 tries at getting Nine Lives into the 20-foot wide well. The other disappointment was that nobody cleans the docks. The finger piers were covered with droppings from the local ducks and geese. Walking on them required a curious dancing step as one tried to avoid the worst messes. As it was, we had to remove shoes outside the cockpit, not fun on a wet day. The marina is bouncy, subject to wakes from passing tows and pleasure boats, plus wind and the strong currents.

The onsite Candlelight Restaurant is very good, and we enjoyed our meal. Dick tried sticky pork belly pieces in a ginger sauce to start, while I took advantage of possibly the last chance to order cheese curds. I ordered their specialty Chicken George, battered chicken tenders, served with an onion and brie sauce, and Dick had whitefish. Chocolate mousse cake was an excellent finish.

Candlelight Restaurant cheese curds and pork belly

Candlelight Restaurant Chicken George and Whitefish

Getting out of the slip the next morning was almost as difficult as the entry. More black rubber marks on Nine Lives. In hindsight, it may be just as well that we didn’t get the new gelcoat that was planned for last winter!

Just before the lock at Quad Cities, we passed the kayaker we had seen earlier. In 12 days, he had made about 150 miles. Quite an adventure. We were sorry we have never been anywhere to speak to him, we would love to know where he started and his ultimate destination. A little further south we passed Twilight on her northbound journey to Dubuque.

Twilight heading north on the Mississippi towards Dubuque

We are seeing a lot of Great Egrets in this stretch of the River. I read that in the Upper Mississippi they are migratory, so they must be starting their journey south. You don’t usually see so many except in a rookery at night, as they tend, like all members of the heron family, to be both solitary and territorial. The pelicans are also migrating, and we see large rafts of them resting.

As we approach a railroad bridge we always wonder how accurate their reported height above the water is!

Our next stop was Muscatine. I had not been looking forward to the difficult docking on their floating dock at the former boat launch. This dock has only two cleats, one at each end, and we had previously had problems docking as we tried with a bow line. On this occasion, Dick had a plan, and it executed perfectly. He used the boathook to put a loop from the midship over the upstream cleat on the dock, and then I was able to back Nine Lives toward the downstream cleat and Dick could easily jump off and make everything secure.

Having found previously that the local restaurants were mostly indifferent, and also we were told that there would be an evening event at the facility right beside the dock, we had decided to eat on board that night. We had a lovely evening. First, we watched two men launch their boat with several remote control boats on board. These are not the pond yachts we have seen in the past, instead they were racing speedboats. It was great fun to see them buzzing around. They go really fast, and throw quite a big spray for their diminutive size.

Dick chatted with a young man on the dock, who came down and asked if we were the same boat he had seen earlier in the summer. Nine Lives bobbed appreciatively at being recognized. The young man chatted with Dick about his ambitions to be an inventor. He showed Dick a book he carries around with all sorts of engineering and mathematical calculations and tables. Unfortunately, he doesn’t plan to get an education before starting on his inventing career. Dick did his best to encourage a rethink on that, without being too negative about his ambitions.

Later in the evening there was an incredible lightning storm. It was to the north of us, so the show was above the colourful lighted bridge. There was both sheet and fork lightning, but no thunder. Apparently when the lightning bounces between clouds, there may be no sound. Either that or the distance was too great. It was quite something to watch, and while I did get a couple of pictures, I found it impossible to catch the most spectacular moments.

The next day we had an easy, but long, run to Ft Madison. The Mississippi was like a millpond. We were lucky with timing for the locks and barge traffic, as well as having no wait for the Ft Madison railroad bridge to open. The marina has been under reconstruction since 2019, and although they celebrated a Grand Opening in July, it is not even close to being finished. There is no power or water available. Also, it is in a very unfortunate position, right where the railway tracks curve to enter the bridge. There are almost continuous trains running in both directions, and the wheels squeal horribly on the tracks. It would be an awful place to stay even if the marina was completed. We had planned to stay two nights, and had hoped to visit the reconstructed Fort Madison, but after reading that the fort was only open on weekends, and expecting temperatures over 90 the next day, we decided to leave early and look forward to power and water at Quincy.

Sid and Nana from Tranquility arrived in the harbour, and joined us on board for a steak dinner. All was going well until Dick tried to start the stove to pan-fry the mushrooms, and discovered that our propane tank was empty. Why the propane has to run out during dinner preparations instead of tea making is down to Murphy’s Law, I am sure. I read a comment today from someone who said that Murphy had left their boat, but kept getting back on! Clearly, Murphy likes Nine Lives as well. Anyway, with the grill out of commission just after searing the steaks, Dick handled the dinner emergency with great aplomb. He got out our induction burner, and finished the steaks and the mushrooms in the new frying pan. A good purchase earlier this trip, as our old frying pan did not work on the induction burner. Dinner was excellent, in spite of the challenges, and we enjoyed the company very much. Sid has some great stories. When he was 16, he and a friend bought a pontoon boat and a 25hp motor and travelled down the Mississippi from La Crosse to St Louis. He is now enjoying revisiting the various towns and cities he saw on that trip when he was a teenager.

Early morning bridge opening for a cruise ship at Ft Madison

Lock 20, we floated instead of taking lines, so photography was possible

We arrived in Quincy mid-afternoon, after what is a quite boring run south from Ft Madison. It was very hot, temperatures up to 96 and the weather app telling me “feels like 100”. It did. We docked without problems, and one of the members made a point of coming down to ask if everything was fine. We enjoyed our stay in Quincy last time, and are looking forward to visiting two of the local restaurants. Later another member dropped by with an information pack for the town, and also offered to help out if we needed a ride to a grocery store or any other assistance. Very friendly people in this boat club, who really enjoy meeting other boaters, and especially Loopers.

Dick set off the next morning on his bike with the trailer attached to get the empty propane tank refilled. He arrived at the hardware store, whose website said they refill propane tanks, to discover that the website is wrong, and they only replace, no refilling. Since ours is a non-standard tank, it must be filled. The next suggestion was to go to the local propane supplier for the area. Back on the bike, but Dick was not quite sure of the location, so he returned to the boat after a brief exploration, and looked it up online. Armed with the address, he set off again, and duly arrived, only to be told that they would not fill his tank since he was on a bicycle. They suggested another company, and this time Dick called me to get the address and phone number before heading out. After confirmation that they would in fact fill the tank, Dick rode there and was greatly relieved to get it filled. Now with a 30-pound load on the trailer, he returned to the boat, more than a little disappointed that while the trip was mostly downhill, he didn’t get much benefit as it was also into the wind. So, after a total of 20.2 miles riding up and down the Quincy hills (instead of the planned 3-mile journey), we are again able to grill and to use the stove.

Dick gets ready to take the empty propane bottle for refilling at Quincy

For Dick, the fun was not quite finished for the day. Upon realizing that the wind was blowing, and he needed to secure his bike to a post in case it blew over, he got off the boat, detached the trailer, and began to secure the bike. At that moment, the trailer decided to go for a swim and casually rolled off the dock into the water. Dick dropped to the deck and made a successful snatch, just as the trailer proved that useful as it is, it does not float.

Later in the afternoon as I sat in the cockpit reading, I saw a fishing boat with several good old boys pass by. To my surprise, one of them was sitting in the back with a strung bow and an arrow nocked. Not sure whether he was planning to fish with that, or hunt from the boat. Most likely he planned to shoot Asian Carp or another invasive species, since the season for bow hunting does not begin until October, and bow fishing requires only a sport fishing licence.

We tried a different restaurant in the evening. This was an Italian restaurant called Tiramisu. It certainly appeared to be a well established and popular family run restaurant. White tablecloths and plenty of wait staff, all smartly dressed in black. Our server was different, an older lady, somewhat casually dressed, and it was very much like being served by your mother-in-law! Dick started with a portobello mushroom topped with spinach, in a delicious sauce. I liked my shrimp with mushrooms and artichokes in a scampi sauce. For main courses Dick had Guazzetto di Pesce, a Roman style seafood stew, and I tried Rolli, pasta sheets stuffed with spinach, ham, and ricotta, rolled up, baked, and served with a four-cheese sauce. Desserts were the signature tiramisu for Dick, and I had a heated flourless chocolate cake. The meal was excellent, as were the wine options, and surprisingly inexpensive.

Rain had unexpectedly appeared in the forecast, so we closed up the cockpit before we went out and made sure to take our umbrellas to dinner. That definitely did the trick, as the rain held off until after we returned to the boat.

Quincy is an interesting town. I wrote about the history earlier in the summer. We were given a bag full of interesting leaflets and brochures by a Boat Club member. There are still some buildings in the town of historical interest. They are very proud of their record as a stop on the Underground Railroad, and also that they welcomed persecuted Mormons. There are some famous actors and actresses from Quincy, including Mary Astor (Maltese Falcon), John Mahoney (Frasier), and John Anderson (Gunsmoke and Twilight Zone). Other more notorious former residents include Albert Cashier, born Jennie Irene Hodgers, who enlisted in the Union Army in the Civil War, fought in many battles, and continued to live as a man, without discovery, until shortly before death. James Earl Ray was well known to Quincy law enforcement before he escaped from the Missouri State Penitentiary and shot and killed Dr. Martin Luther King. Michael Swango is thought to be the most prolific serial killer in American history, and is serving a life sentence in Florence, Colorado. Jonathan Browning invented a sliding breech repeating rifle while living in Quincy, and one of his sons was John Moses Browning, one of the most important figures in the development of modern automatic and semi-automatic firearms.

This is a good place for my annual review of interesting boat names. We always enjoy the clever ones. As we passed a tow on the River, he hailed us and asked if we were called Nine Lives because we are a catamaran. When told, indeed yes, he told us that he always enjoys working out the reasons for clever boat names, and he was glad to have his conclusions confirmed. Some of the interesting names we have seen this year include DahlHouse for a houseboat, as well as Hadtohaveit. Next Chapter is nice. One boat was expediently called Social Distancing. Another was Boat Ox (hmmm), and another was Blood Money (not sure about that one either). Soggy Dollars evoked the memory of one of Dick’s more spectacular exits from a dinghy some years ago in the Caribbean. Second Wind is rather a nice name for a retirement lifestyle. Noah Genda is very clever, and we enjoyed chatting with them (fellow Loopers on their way home) on the radio as they passed us. One of the names that, in my opinion, is not going to work well is Miss Is Tipsi. It’s clever, but one needs to remember that when you hail a tow, a lock, a marina, or a fellow boater, the correct procedure is to call the name you are hailing three times, followed by your name three times. While common usage reduces this to twice for each name, it is still going to be an incredible tongue twister, not to mention coming out as “Mississippi” to the listener, and causing confusion. We continue to watch for interesting names, and enjoy the clever ones.

We will stay one more night in Quincy before resuming our southbound voyage, hoping to be back in Pickwick Lake by the first week in October. We are looking forward to catching up with the rest of this year’s Looper pack, and perhaps enjoying some docktails and shared adventure stories.