Day Twelve -  Friday - Demopolis to Bashi Creek

            We do not get as early a start as we had hoped.  A loaded barge is locking through and the lockmaster asks those of us coming out of Demopolis to wait while the barge clears downstream.  By the time the lock is clear there are a whole slew (a technical term meaning there were 8 of us meandering around the lock gates) and I was curious to observe the manner in which 8 boats race for the floating bollards to secure their favorite locking location.  Dennis is right up near the opening while the rest of us are strung out along the bay. The lockmaster asks the first boats in line to go all the way in to the last bollards before tying up. To my surprise, each boat gets on the radio and asks for a specific side, port or starboard and the grand entrance is not a clusterf*^k  but rather, an orderly slow parade of boats.  The previous hour watching 8 boats weave in and out of one another’s way while we waited for the lock to clear gave absolutely no indication that this would be so easy and painless.  Boats have gone out of their way to accommodate the boats nearest them. Every bollard is taken with the faster boats up front so they will exit before the rest of us slower craft, meaning none of those huge wakes from big passing boats when we do get out of the lock.  Very civilized... and totally unexpected.

          The first order of business is passing the slow barge that locked through before us.  It goes easily and in spite of our late start we travel the 70 odd miles to Dennis’s choice for our anchorage this night, a tiny little tributary to the waterway named Bashi Creek.  We pass four different boats that have pulled off to the side of the main river channel and are anchored for the night because the sun is setting but our destination is only a few more miles further downriver. When we arrive at Bashi Creek it is tiny but well out of the main river.  Dennis pulls further in while I am forced to back in because there is not enough room for me to turn AURORA around once I get past the opening. I dislike backing up AURORA because she has a miniscule rudder the size of a dinner plate and a massive prop which results in her backing up in anything BUT a straight line.  Over the years I have learned to compensate but still, it is sometimes a crapshoot as to where I will end up. I get lucky and the position is perfect when we drop the anchor and better yet, it sets and holds immediately. This should certainly be the quietest anchorage yet.  Yup, right up until the crickets, frogs and a few other creatures I am unable to identify begin their nightly serenade.  I am sure they could easily hop from branch to our deck.  We are that close to the bank. 

   

        Strangely enough, despite the raucous night warblers, it IS peaceful.  Brett and I stuff ourselves with the last of the knockwurst from my favorite German sausage maker, Usingers, while we mull over the scuttlebutt from this morning’s weather reports.  Hurricane Patricia is doing severe damage in Mexico and dumping record amounts of rain across the southwestern US and moving east.  This storm is not going quietly into that good night, but raging, raging, raging all through Arizona, New Mexico and Texas.  Predictions are that we could well see some of Patricia’s rage on Sunday or Monday.  Oh well, it is still a long way off and will probably peter out long before it reaches us.  We have another 70 miles to go tomorrow and we have just experienced a “red sky at night, sailors delight,” sunset promising another beautiful tomorrow. But being a conservative boater, I can’t help but be a bit concerned.