Day Sixteen - Tuesday - Tensaw River to Big Bayou Canot

Leaving our Tensaw River anchorage

          

           The remnants of Hurricane Patricia have moved north and east of us with only a slight drizzle remaining.  Wind is non-existent and VELA NARCOSIS and AURORA weigh anchors and set off on the short 25 mile jaunt to Big Bay Canot. This anchorage is a mere ten miles north of Mobile city proper.  We are uncertain of conditions in Mobile Bay so will stop short of the city to allow the turbulent wind, weather, and waves to settle in the Gulf for a day before heading down to Turner Marina midway down the western shore.  Both Brett and I are feeling pretty good about losing only one weather day the entire trip and are thanking the weather gods for their benevolence. 

         Both of us are beginning to feel the pangs of nostalgia and regret as we realize we are nearly finished moving AURORA south.  Sights and sounds of the river and waterway glide past on the shore but I kick myself for not having snapped a picture of the old red English phone booth (think Tardis from Dr. Who) precariously perched on the shore a couple of days ago. It was so out of place neither Brett nor I could stop chuckling fast enough to grab a camera.   

Closer to Mother Nature than most

            I am vaguely aware of the variety and ingenuity displayed by folks who live close enough to Mother Nature to experience both the good and the bad of her moods. The river houses up on stilts of course are an acknowledgment but us urbanites are so much less attuned to Her in general, thinking erroneously that we have it all under control.  And then a Katrina destroys a city, or an F-4 class tornado flattens a farm community or a 30 inch snowstorm buries the East Coast. We are not in control and it is hubris of the highest order to think we have the upper hand.  One of these stormy springs, the Mississippi River will bypass New Orleans completely and surge down the Atchafalaya through Texas to the Gulf where it has wanted to go for the past 50 years.  All of the enormous Army Corps structures notwithstanding and our fervent desires to see it as a picturesque backdrop to the French Quarter, the Mississippi WILL go where it desires.  You read it here first. (Or at least first since Katrina)

         At the anchorage, I am not happy with our first anchor set feeling as though it did not grab hard enough.  For those of you who have never set an anchor on a boat, there is one overriding concern.  It is the ONLY thing between you and disaster.  (remember the pix from a few posts ago?)  Once you have dropped the anchor to the bottom and let out enough scope (4 to 1 under light conditions, more in stormy weather) one puts the boat in reverse and “sets” the anchor by pulling on it backwards.  This forces the anchor to dig into the bottom securing your lifeline.  Our first attempt does not produce the noticeable dip of the bow as the anchor chain tightens and stops the boat from moving backwards and so we haul it up and re-set it.  The second set is satisfyingly secure. 

VELA and ALLY CAT share our anchorage

            Strangely enough in the middle of this re-anchoring maneuver, my cell phone rings and I have no time to answer being consumed with getting us secure for the night. I have not heard the cell phone much this trip because we have not had great reception meandering down through the heart of a wild and secluded section of our country.  When I do finally remember the call, I check the number and find it is the folks from Turner Marina.  Calling them back, I hear bad news.  Hurricane Patricia has not left us unscathed.  She dumped 10 inches of rain on Mobile and the parking lot where Brett and I have parked his car over two weeks ago, has flooded and water rose up above the seats inside the car.  Brett spends the next hour or two calling his insurance agent and a car repair dealership in Mobile. Obviously we thanked the weather gods either too early or perhaps, too late.  Our final anchorage sunset on the waterway is not colorful, but it is poignant and subdued for more reasons than we had anticipated.  

Our last sunset at anchorage