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In the opening chapter of “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” the author talks about the difference between cyclists and auto drivers, he states that behind the windshield the driver is looking at more TV and becomes a passive observer, thus the reality of the the environment is diminished. I have the same theory about nautical navigation, sailors are moved by the environment, all other vessels are creating their own propulsion and internal environment. To many of them the water is just another highway, the screen just more TV. Even the “outdoors men” in their fishing and hunting boats are just passive observers of the world, except the outdoors guys are there to destroy living things and have no regard for other boaters or the weather, they are the most despised by all mariners. Sailors of the faire de la voile persuasion are a part of the environment, we can hear everything (including the fishermen screaming over the motor “look at the sailboat!”) I can hear the hiss of the screws in the water long before I hear the motor of an approaching vessel.
Approaching New Orleans from the west I traveled via the Harvey Canal, the banks of which is a very industrial area with massive amounts of leftover Katrina damage still remaining. There were many factories and fisheries still in ruins and demolished docks jutting into the water. I was thinking what a fun place to explore till I saw the crime scene tape and the mobile police lab and decided it might not be the best place for tourists. The next day I heard on the radio that a couple of gangsters were found executed in one of the old factories, thus the crime scene.
I entered the Mississippi River via the Harvey lock, this is the first lock I have ever been in that didn't have floating mooring bits, the lock operator told me to tune my radio to channel 12 for traffic. As I exited the lock I made the customary navigation statement of my location, heading and destination. Traffic control came on the radio and I realized that they have a navigation pattern that I needed to fit into to get through the French Quarter bend into Industrial Canal. Traffic control has several large towers similar to aircraft control towers and they instructed me to stay close to the shore as there were two downstream barge trains and three upstream ships. I remembered why I hate the Mississippi River, because of the size of the barge trains. The one that I was following had to slide sideways through the bend while a large Army Corps ship was heading upstream. True to traffic control's commands I hugged the right shore, while passing one of the ferry landings I heard the ferry operator call TC and ask if they were aware that “there's a little sailboat out here”. I made the bend and was contacted by the pilot of an upstream oil tanker, he couldn't see me and wanted to know my location, as I rounded the bend the tanker spotted me, it was the biggest ship I have seen yet (and it's a small tanker). All of the captains were quite friendly and wished me happy sailing, I knew that they were all wishing that they could be sailing instead of in a glass booth controlling monstrous vessels.
I moored at South Shore Marina after having lunch with the crew from Texas Two Step (and leaving my rope gloves aboard) and took a much needed shower, the boatswain got her shower too but she didn't enjoy it nearly as much as I did. I took a nice bike tour of New Orleans and made a few discovery's about the town, it's nickname “the Big Easy” is close to reality, it should be “The Big whining sorry “Where my FEMA check” sleazy”. (Watch the Boondocks episode, Invasion of the Katrinians) I had some nice clothes to wear and proudly displayed my Acadian lapel pin as I went through the French Quarter to view the “Natchez” steam vessel. In getting directions I practiced my French on some local girls and they didn't understand a word of it but though it was cute. The Natchez, like everything in the FQ, is just another tourist crap, they were offering tours of the Mississippi River combined with a bus tour of New Orleans but I couldn't get a tour of just the vessel. I found a crew member and discovered that this was not the Natchez that made the historical race to Minneapolis but just some steam vessel thus named. I left the main tourist area and found lunch via following my nose to a great little cafe on Frenchmen Street. While there I met some locals who recommended a local beer and were great company. On their recommendation I went on a search for an Acadian burgee for my boat and found a funky little shop that only sold flags, lots and lots of flags. It was at the flag shop I learned a little bit of Katrina lore, it seems that the only things not looted were the flag shop and Wal~Mart's collection of country western CD's. Since they only had Acadiana flags, and none burgee sized , I purchase a Canadian burgee in case I get blown off course. Canada has a better international reputation that the United States and it could be helpful.
I departed the Marina the next morning after crashing a re-christening ceremony the evening before, once again I heard the very familiar story that Mr. Yazzetti found on the internet about the proper way to re-christen a boat. I hit on the women, drank the free booze, toasted good health and met the skipper while Mattie broke the ice and made friends. Most of the people there were yacht club members but had no boat, Katrina was the primary excuse.
I cast off early Sunday and headed out across Lake Ponchartrain, about the time I was departing the marina a USN T-34 aircraft went down two nautical miles north of my position. I didn't see the aircraft go down but suddenly there were law enforcement boats and aircraft all over the area and I got a bit worried about being boarded. When the USCG announced “pan pan pan” over the radio and notified all mariners about the search I got less worried about dealing with the law.
I sailed all day on a nice mellow beam reach and crossed Lake Ponchartrain, made it through the Hwy 11 lift bridge with no delay and found a little harbor in a private community to anchor in. There were many remains of many docks (Katrina) but I chose to anchor in the middle of the cove so that I would not trespass. I was amazed that people were rebuilding million dollar mansions on a little spit of sand between the cove and the lake, it's like they didn't learn anything from that big storm, even thousands of years ago people were warned to build their homes on rock not sand. After two hours of sleep I awoke to check the anchor, the wind had picked up and I discovered Matilda had dragged towards a sea wall. I pulled up my lines and tried three more times to make anchor but due to the grassy bottom neither my danforth nor kedge would dig in, I finally gave up and tied to a piling by a demolished dock, if the post can withstand 170mph winds it can hold my little boat.
I headed out early in the morning and motored under Hwy 90 when I spotted a sea fort at the lake entrance, since I haven't done enough touristy stuff and I was hoping the wind would calm down a bit I headed over and toured “Pike Fort” named after the same Pike that everyone in Colorado is familiar with. I have marveled at the fact that most of our monuments in the United States are war related, as one who is disgusted by war I would rather go to a museum or visit a monument to learned people than a memorial to slaughter. Pike Fort is where the Seminol's were incarcerated when they were captured in the Okefenokee swamp then deported west to “Indian Territory”, there is no Seminol reservation because the people refused to eat and all died on the trail.
I left the fort and raised my main and genoa, I marveled at my speed, I had a strong tail wind and was running in a strong current making almost 8 knots. I passed through the CSXRR bridge and headed into salty water for the first time. I like to listen to NPR's classical music as I sail and this day they were playing Beethoven, I have been told that dolphins like music, especially Beethoven. As I came into Lake Borgne I saw a dorsal fin nearby, then another, then both a bit closer until I had two dolphins off my lee rail escorting Matilda into the bay. Such amazing creatures, they would come withing 20' of the boat and roll onto their sides to look at me, then swim under the keel and ride the bow wave, as I approached the ICWW they slowed down and and faded into the distance on my stern. I thought this to be a good sign, dolphins were considered good luck by ancient mariners.
On this day I couldn't have been more wrong.
I noticed the wind had increased quite a bit, NOAA was saying 10-15kt winds but I was having difficulty already and thought that these winds were higher than any I had dealt with yet, the wind was coming from the west and I was headed east so I had a very strong tail wind. The seas began to build and the wind increased as the day went on and I began to have difficulty controlling Matilda, she has a hull speed of 6.2kts and I was averaging 6.2kts, when I would surf down the face of a wave she would hit 7 or 8 knots and then as my bow dug into the trough she would slow down and try to twist into the wind as the wave I just surfed broke. It was getting rougher and I was having more difficulty controlling the rudder when I had a large wave break over the stern and ship water into the cockpit for the first time, this didn't scare me but I realized that I might be in a bit over my head for a novice sailor. About the time that thought registered I had an accidental jibe, for you non sailors, this is when the boom swings violently from one side to the other, with a tail wind it is even more violent. I had a preventer rigged (non sailors, this is line to prevent the violent swing) but the power of the jibe broke my preventer mount and I realized that I would have to heave to (face the wind) or do more damage to my boat, lots more damage. I fired the engine to hold the boat into the wind but I forgot to turn the fuel on. I throttled up and the engine coughed and died, I think I found the fuel leak, air got into the fuel line and the little diesel refused to start.
Now I was dead in the water with main sail flapping and right in the middle of the ICWW, anytime anything goes badly there is always a barge to contend with, this time there were four of them. I quickly hoisted a reefed jib sheet and sailed about 2 miles north of the main channel with the wind still howling and the little dog puking in the cabin, poor Mattie got so seasick. I got into shallow water and dropped anchor but Matilda refused to swing into the wind, instead she wallowed in the troughs taking water on the decks and really making for a rough ride. I made certain to stay lashed to my safety lines at all times and dropped my jib, lashed the main sail but still couldn't get Matilda to face the waves. I spotted another sailing vessel in the ICWW with both sails down and radioed her to ask how to get my vessel into the wind. The captain of “Emanuel” advised to run a line from the anchor rode to the windward winch and pull some tension, that should get her to point windward. It didn't help much .she was still rolling hard and everything that wasn't secured inside was bouncing around, including a sick little dog. I got out my sea anchor (a small parachute) and rigged it on my aft main stays to catch some wind and pull her to point into the waves, that helped a little bit, so now I was rolling less and finally able to get below. I hadn't eaten much all day as I got a late start and the wind was too strong for me to take a break from the tiller, so I was extremely hungry, tired and slightly dehydrated, and that's when the captain got seasick. I didn't actually vomit but I got motion sickness and even when I went on deck the rolling was still so strong that it didn't help much. Finally as the sun began to set the wind eased up just a bit (but not the waves) and I dropped onto the floor and took a twenty minuet nap.
When I awoke I felt a lot better but the dog was still puking and not having a good time, I put her in her basket and moved her near the engine compartment where the rolling and pitching was less, she was so sick she just lay there limply, not even whining. I ate a can of chicken noddle soup and went on deck to clean up some loose lines and things. At dark the winds picked up again, I turned on the anchor light and was dismayed to find that it was out, I couldn't climb the mast in the waves and wasn't about to try dropping it so I relied on the solar powered deck lights to illuminate me. This time Matilda stayed faced into the wind and I crawled into my berth to get some much needed sleep. I marked my position on the GPS and awoke through the night to check for drift, I could see that I was drifting a bit but being ten miles off shore there are not too many things to hit so dragging anchor is not that big of a deal, throughout the night I dragged .25 of a mile.
When the sun came up the waves and wind had decreased and it looked to be a great day for sailing, I had a single empty barge passing about .25 mile to the north cutting between two channels but since it was daylight I wasn't worried about visibility. Mattie was still feeling ill but I was able to get her to drink some water, she stayed in her basket on deck and only whined a little bit. I sailed in much better conditions to Biloxi and found anchorage near the Hard Rock Casino thanks to the way points that captain Rick loaded into my GPS.
I have a lot of maintenance to do on Waltzing Matilda, we are at a marina in Ocean Springs Mississippi, the cheapest marina I have ever found (thanks to mom!), near down town with electricity and water for $10 a night, in marina terms this is super cheap.
