If we disregard that, we have about 190 (statute) left until Pickwick Lake - on the Tennessee River - and the 450 miles to Mobile Bay - on the Ten Tom Waterway. I make that point about it being statute miles because that is the distance method used on inland waterways while most nautical charts (and sailor's habits) are oriented toward nautical miles and knots (nautical miles per hour).
I make that distinction simply due to an observation that some of us are adaptable and have no problem temporarily changing the units in our navigation program while others are apparently intimidated by the process of changing units and stay with nautical miles in a statue mile world. When we leave in the morning, for example and have a lock or river intersection ahead, I have to tactfully remind others that this will not take 6 hours due to our 5 knot speed but only 5 hours due to our 6 mph speed. And, because all references disagree with our method of measuring our speed, I have to do that multiple times of the day. End of editorial rant - at least on this topic.
The trip so far has been interesting at times and boring as hell at others. While I know that the government and city fathers of the countless burgs we have passed due not owe me excitement or visual stimulation,I think they have done a good job not exceeding my expectations.
Don't get me wrong, there is plenty of natural beauty to see as we motor down these somewhat rural then wild then urban stretches of the nation's waterways. But it goes by (depending on the current) at 4 1/2 to 10 miles per hour. That means that, unlike driving in a car where you catch site of something interesting and then it is soon fleeting memory - we can see something interesting and examine it thoroughly enough so as to make much less interesting as it s l o w l y leaves our field of vision.
Frankly, while there are scenic rock formations and wildlife to see and savor, there is also a numbing similarity to the miles and miles and miles and miles of stuff you see along the bank. Evidences of high water, evidences of low water, floating logs and branches, floating flotsam and jetsam (I just Had to throw those words in for effect!), active docks, abandoned docks, weekend cabins on stilts, glorious homes on bluffs overlooking a wild river, tugs and tugs and tugs with tows and tugs moving barges and, well, I think you understand by now.
There is more sameness to see on this trip in the first 600 miles that there is diversity. I'm hoping we get the chance to see more that is interesting on our way down to the salt water!
The people have been more interesting that the geography in many ways. Not only the people that we've met that work in the marinas and restaurants and bars, but people on their own adventures. Some are everyday folks like the nice lady I met in the pharmacy in Beardstown, IL who, after apologizing that they didn't have any disposable (or any other kind of) razors, explained that they had just opened a week earlier and eagerly stuffed on of her business cards in my hand. I think it was an automatic reaction that didn't consider that when I walked out, I wouldn't likely ever be back, but just the enthusiasm of one who was excited about the possibility of being in business and hopefully succeeding. I hope she, does - although there are two other pharmacies in a town that would be an exaggeration to call "sleepy". Sadly, comatose or near death might be a better description. If I ever do make it back to Beardstown, maybe I'll see if they are still in business. Maybe they will have disposable razors then!
The people we've met who are also Loopers have been quite an assortment in terms of boat, wealth, experience, enthusiasm and affability. We been in marinas next to a Looper boat where they normal courtesies are exchanged about "where are you coming from?", where are you going to next?" as well as questions and comments about their craft or ours...
..and then there are ones like those next to us in a nice Monk 36 last night who may have smiled briefly but didn't utter two words during their stay.
Some were obviously very experienced boat crews - usually a husband and wife - who have anchored, came into fuel docks, negotiated locks and possessed all of the requisite skills needed to make this trip with smoothness and grace. Others were a bit more green and had some challenges getting into a dock or anchoring and others that, without letting my bias show too strongly, were mostly qualified due to having the financial means to buy a fancy boat and the time to make this trip - and seemed to be headed for some problems due to the arrogance and flippant disregard of some very sensible rules. I wish them well but can only hope that they are able to learn from the mishaps that most certainly await them.
Some had fascinating stories behind their trip. There was a retired Doctor and his wife from Beaver Island, MI who had a beautiful, twin diesel-engined Hatteras. He had been an orthopedic surgeon who had specialized in laproscopic rotator cuff surgeries and had done thousands of them during his career. Which was apparently lucrative enough that he was able to retire in his mid-50's and sail around the world for six years with his wife. After they returned to Beaver Island and spent a numbingly-cold winter with many 30 below days, they decided to buy a nice trawler and do the loop to avoid being in Beaver in winter.
As a pilot and a sailor, I've often paraphrased the "hours and hours of boredom punctuated by seconds of sheer terror" in various ways that effectively describe the dragged out and then instantaneous nature of both moving through the air or the water.
In many ways, this trip has those same characteristics. Hours and hours of boring riverbank followed by a brief study of the flight of a giant loon or bald eagle or pelican in flight.
And, more to come.
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