Beardstown to Hardin, IL (Out of Chrono sequence)

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Our information showed only a few anchorages and no marinas for nearly 90 miles, so we got up early and underway planning on making 68 miles down to the dock at Illinois Riverfront Restaurant in Hardin, IL.  Since making it all the way to the Mississippi would be a stretch (another three hours), we thought this was a reasonable goal.

Reasonable, that is, if we didn’t have any delay going through the last lock (8^th) at LaGrange.  When I called the lockmaster at 6am, he told us to come on down and we probably wouldn’t have wait.  They had an upbound tow and paddle wheeler that probably would be done coming through in spite of the heavy fog.

As we came down, we encountered some fog but visibility never got down to less than a mile until we rounded a bend and it socked in.  I steered wide to the outside of the sailing line, looked up the name of the tow that was coming at us (as indicated by the AIS) and called him.  We knew he was within about a half mile, but visibility was down to ¼ mile or so.  He responded right away and asked that we “pass him on the one” which translates into passing port side to port side.  This term goes back to earlier days on the river when there was no radio contact and the steam whistle was the only way to signal your intentions.

Just then, we heard another voice on the radio stating that that they would also meet us on the one as he was currently overtaking the (over 1,000 foot) tow.  While we had the radar on and did see a huge target ahead, we had no idea that the tour boat “Spirit of Peoria” would also appear in the fog about 900 feet ahead to port.  We saw them slide by and within another ¼ mile, the fog completely lifted.  Now, we had an easy mile of visibility and saw the lock ahead.  Yes, the only really bad fog that morning was at the worst possible location – on a bend meeting two large vessels!

After the lock we ground along all day at about 7.3 miles per hour and, while the scenery was pleasant and started to get a bit more diverse, it was definitely still miles and miles of miles and miles.

Our plan was to ask the nice folks at the restaurant if we could stay tied up on their dock overnight after enjoying their finest meal at 6:00 or so.  True to prediction, we arrived at about 5:00, tied up and walked up the steep bank across the open field to the restaurant.  Apparently, “riverfront” is a loose term meaning nothing is in between our building and the river.  As we approached, we had a sinking feeling that we wouldn’t be eating there.  As we slipped around the street side, we saw the big “Re-opening Soon” sign.  At least the permission to stay at the dock overnight seemed to be implied by the absence of the restaurant.

We walked into the town, found the local tavern that had food and learned that the restaurant had experienced a major fire in June, about one week before the major flood that damaged it further.  The owners have apparently been wrestling with FEMA ever since and are expecting to be open again after repairs are completed.  While two of us were sensible and had typical bar food, the Captain opted for "The Special".  Note to him and others:  Never order the special when you are in a small town and are the only ones in an eating establishment.  You never know what you are going to get!

We retired very early, somewhat out of boredom, as we were cut off with no internet or cel phone service.  While I read for an hour or so, the lighting aboard is really not suited much to focused light on a book.  I’ll need to make sure I address this on Amalia in both the main saloon and V-berth areas.