Waltzing Matilda Prepares for Two Days in Open Sea

March 27, 2010
Nathan called today from Apalachicola, Florida (he can’t pronounce it, either). It’s southeast of Panama City and southwest of Tallahassee. He’s docked along Water Street. While we talked, I told him I was looking at where he was at on the Google Street View and told him I couldn’t see him. “That’s ‘cause it’s dark,” he replied. Oh. It’s dark. Of course.
“It a nice little town,” he said. “Very friendly. A lot of people come by and talk to me.” I can’t remember if he said he arrived in Apalachicola yesterday or today but when he arrived the weather was chilly, and he said he was cold, sunburned, and wind-burned.
He said he spent his last $15 on diesel fuel and has about 80% of his tank filled. The weather forecast is such that Monday he plans to join three other boats at nearby Dog Island and together they will sail for more than two days in open water, heading about 140 miles southwest to Tarpon Springs, near Tampa. Besides fueling, he has been doing other things to get the boat ready for the open sea voyage. He’s got plenty of water and a month’s supply of food.
While the four boats may not always be in sight of one another, they’ll be in constant radio contact, which, I believe, is prudent.
He had last reported to us from Panama City. Either there or on the way to Apalachicola he went to a food pantry at a Baptist church where he met a woman who had just moved to Florida from, of all places, Springdale, Arkansas, about five miles from our house.
One of the boats that he will travel in open water with hails from Fort Smith, Arkansas, very near where Nathan began his journey last November 22. On the 22-foot boat (about the size of Waltzing Matilda) is a couple in their 60s. They told Nathan they had read about him in the newspaper and Nathan speculated that one of the Arkansas papers might have picked up the news story written about him in Louisiana. Unlike Nathan, they did not sail down the rivers, but rather had their boat hauled by truck.
While sailing this week, Nathan passed a shipyard and saw a lot of commotion surrounding a new ship: tugboats, flags, tents. Later he learned that he missed a ship launching that occurred two hours after he passed; but when he saw all the activity he decided not to stop because he didn’t want to sacrifice the good wind Waltzing Matilda was in.
While on the Intracoastal Waterway he stopped at a free dock at White City, Florida. He went ashore to see if he could find a laundromat but he said there was nothing – nothing – in White City. He did see an odd sign there: “No golf carts, skateboards or horses.” Man, in White City you can’t do anything!. Also along the way he saw a sign that on one side told boaters to control their wakes. On the other side, the sign was intended to say “Resume normal speed,” but the sign had broken to where the word “speed” was gone; as a result the sign said “Resume normal.”
“What does it mean to resume normal?” asked Nathan.
At White City he was cruising along and saw an unusual cloud. Or so he thought it was a cloud. “And then I sailed into the mosquitoes,” he said. They were everywhere and he quickly put repellant on himself and some small amounts on the dog to protect her. Actually, I believe he later described them to us as nasty little bugs that dwell around oceans called noseeums. I guess that’s because they bite you and you noseeum.
In other news, Nathan now has a pipe dream of what he would like his next boat to be. He’d like to take a pontoon boat and outfit it with a steam engine. “Then it would be African Queen meets Mark Twain,” he said.
And the journey continues…

Posted by official correspondent Dad Landry

Waltzing Matilda at Panama City, Florida

March 21, 2010

Hadn’t heard from Nathan for awhile and was getting ready to text or call him when he phoned this morning from Smack Bayou across from Panama City, Florida. He had a hodgepodge of things to talk about:
--He laughed hard when we told him we were celebrating spring in Northwest Arkansas with 9.5 inches of snow and that it was still coming down.
--He was amazed at his first experience with luminescent bacteria in the water. “I’ve read about it but reading about it and seeing it are two different things.” He said a cove he was in came aglow when raindrops stirred up the luminescence. At one point he scooped seawater up in a bucket and the luminescence was so intense that the bucket lit up his entire boat.
--Waiting out some bad weather now (rainstorm with 30mph winds), he’s planning on taking the intracoastal waterway to Bay St. John. There, at Dog Island he will make preparations for running 89 miles in open sea across Appalachie Bay. There will be no oil rigs or commercial shipping to worry about, so during the 24-hour voyage (that amount of time depends upon the wind) “I can just lash the boat down and go to sleep – I’m 90 miles away from anything.”
--While it seems isolated where he’s currently anchored, that’s dispelled at night due to the lights of Panama City. Also, a nearby Air Force base makes a lot of noise. Land where he’s at consists of sawgrass, palm trees and cactus. Also, big oak trees covered by Spanish moss like bearded old men.
--He’s down to his last 35 dollars. He’s hoping to get some work in Panama City for about a week, perhaps as a bike mechanic. He’s been hanging out with members of the local homeless community. Consisting mainly of Vietnam veterans, their ranks swell in Florida during winter months. “The homeless people have been taking care of me. They fed me a meal they had gotten from a dumpster. I intentionally wear rags when I’m ashore – no one robs me, no one bothers me.” The economy is depressed in Florida where he is at. “No work here – it’s really bad.” Nathan informed one unemployed but not yet homeless man about South Louisiana where there is a lot of work based on the oil industry. The man took the news enthusiastically for himself and for his son-in-law, a certified welder. One 35-year-old homeless man Nathan met was from Pueblo, Colorado, where Nathan grew up. And, of course, as the “You Know You’re From Pueblo If…” Facebook site describes how ex- Puebloans greet each other around the world, Nathan and the homeless guy asked each other where they went to high school. I guess it’s how ex-Puebloans size each other up. Youse guys from Pueblo know what I’m talking about.
--Pueblo, of course, is not the only home tie Nathan has. He flies an Arkansas flag on Waltzing Matilda. At Fort Walton, Florida, a man on a pontoon party boat wearing an Arkansas Razorbacks t-shirt yelled at him: “Wooo, pig, sooey!!!!!!” Y’all from Arkansas know what I’m talkin’ about.
--The Valkyrie that Nathan had earlier been sailing in tandem with has dropped out of the trip due to health problems of one of the people aboard.
--Sailing conditions have been mixed. “Had some good sailing the other day; had some bad sailing the other day – had to run the motor all day. Sea conditions were so calm that I could see my reflection in the water.
--Mattie the dog continues to adjust to the Adventure of Her Life. She got a new squeak toy and “freaked out when she first bit on it and it squeaked.” Mattie then barked or growled at it “but when she figured it out she loves it. She also discovered the unpleasant realities of stickers and cactus.” On shore, she got a cactus needle stuck in her paw and while wrestling with it, she also got it stuck in her stomach. Trying to extricate herself, she decided to lie down in – a cactus! Nathan had to rescue her and pick her clean. Mattie wants to chase squirrels, but Nathan keeps her close while ashore due to the threat of alligators. “As far as the gators are concerned, I’ve nicknamed her ‘Morsel.’ That’s all she’d be to a gator – one quick bite and she would be gone; nothing left but for the gator to spit out her collar.”

Live from Pensacola

Surfing is not as easy as it looks, I'm not kidding it is really much more difficult than skate boarding. A friend I made in Ocean Springs called me up yesterday to tell me he was right near Pensacola and wanted to know if I was up for surfing. We headed down across the bridge to Pensacola Beach and stopped at a surf n skate shop so I could rent a board then off to the beach. The wind was coming in from the South West and making a very choppy sea with 4' waves. I couldn't get out past the breakers to the good waves and kept getting my ass handed to me, at one point I got tumbled almost all the way to the shore. It wasn't the best day for a beginner to learn to surf, I have only been out on a board once before in California and that was 1-2' waves, this was just pounding me mercilessly and freezing cold, even with my wet suit on I couldn't feel my feet. The life guards had the red flags out indicating dangerous currents and surf but even using the rip tide to my advantage I couldn't get past the breakers. It was fun, great fun!
I am at a small marina in Chico Bayou just off Pensacola Bay and may be leaving out soon. The trip here was fun despite having to motor all but 8 hours of the way. Next stop is someplace further East, the water is getting clearer and a bit warmer but I really need to get to warm clear water. I really need to find a used surf board too, and a used dinghy.

Waltzing Matilda: setting sail after a month.

March 7, 2010
“Oops, there goes a dolphin right next to me,” said Nathan in a mid-afternoon phone call from the Intracoastal Waterway on the east side of Mobile Bay. He’s planning on making Pirate’s Cove at Pensacola, Florida, by tonight. He set sail from Ocean Springs, Mississippi, at noon yesterday. “I was doing my captain’s log and realized that I had been in Ocean Springs for a month,” he said. Indeed, it was the weekend of February 6-7 that he had been shipwrecked on Horn Island, was rescued by a Coast Guard helicopter and had his boat towed to Ocean Springs.
After casting off yesterday, Horn Island was his first destination. “If you fall off your horse or fall off your skateboard you have to go back to where you took the fall.” He anchored at Horn Island for the night, along with new friends Rick and Cathy who are sailing in tandem with Nathan in their boat the Valkyrie. Although secured by the new anchor he bought while ashore at Ocean Springs, Waltzing Matilda broke loose and began to drift, but Nathan said he only ended up about a mile offshore. Another problem he encountered was his second bout with snagging a crab trap. The trap line or lines tangled with his propeller, meaning he had to proceed under sail until he could put on a wet suit and go overboard to untangle the mess.
Being back at sea after being ashore made Nathan philosophical. “When I’m ashore I get very lonely but when I’m at sea, I’m fine. I don’t understand it. Being around other people makes me feel alone but when I’m isolated at sea, I don’t have time to get lonely. I’ve heard other sailors say the same thing.”
His month ashore was a great experience, Nathan said. “I had a lovely time in Ocean Springs. A lot of people regret me leaving. I’ve made some good friends there.”
Upon arriving in Pensacola, Nathan is considering more shore time there, perhaps working in the local shipyard or in the hospitality industry due to the upcoming spring break for colleges.
A personal note from Official Correspondent Dad Landry: Thanks to our longtime friends Carol Moore and her daughters Shawn and Jay who showed great hospitality to Nathan while he was in Ocean Springs. Recently Carol’s husband and Shawn and Jay’s father, Fred, passed away from Alzheimer’s disease. Nathan’s mother and I have been friends with Fred and Carol since before Nathan was born and Fred always thought highly of Nathan. When very young, Fred also had some wild sailing adventures – including a shipwreck or two – on the Great Lakes. I’m sorry he was not able to share in Nathan’s trip.
And an editorial note from Nathan: “I have discovered that the alpine hitch is the greatest knot ever. Anybody who takes the time to look that up will discover what I mean by that.”
And that’s the report from Ocean Springs, the Intracoastal Waterway, and soon Pirate’s Cove at Pensacola.

Post script by n8, follow the progress of the Valkyrie and know that I am nearby, they have a SPOT device that updates their GPS positin via the innernets, also I have posted more photos

A drinking village with a fishing problem

I awoke about 1:30 the other morning and was taking a leak off my bow when I heard a noise like a little dog yapping and observed a sea otter swimming along the surface of the harbor barking like crazy, not far behind it was an eight foot gator. The sea otter swam between Waltzing Matilda and the neighboring boat on my port side, the gator on the starboard and both out of sight under the dock, I haven't seen the sea otter since but the gator is still hanging around stalking my little dog.
I am still in Ocean Springs MS, still waxing boats and ready to get back underway. The weather has not been co-operative at all, it's cold and nasty one day, sunny and the wind in the wrong direction the next day and cold again the following day. The locals all say this is an unusual winter, it's not supposed to b this cold all through February. There are daffodils sprouting, birds chirping and a nice westerly breeze today, but a nasty storm with gale force winds brewing for tomorrow.
I've made myself handy with the locals, from hanging out at the cheap PBR bar to ascending masts to fix rigging. Bicycling is quite easy since there are relatively few hills and lots of signs indicating that the rode is a bike route, the cars are very respectful, no honking, spitting upon nor flipping off the bike riders. It is a quaint little town with all the trappings of small southern town politics, the local folks are really great and compared to Biloxi this is paradise.

I went to Biloxi via a buddy's boat to see the Mardi Gras parade, I got all of two steps off the pier when two thuggish teenagers with guns and badges approached me and yelled “Sir, dogs are not allowed on the parade route”, I was two blocks away from the parade route but decided this was a sign of what to expect. I began walking away down the beach and the thugs followed me for a bit then lost interest, I toured the remains of neighborhoods, just daffodils in rows up to concrete steps leading to nowhere for blocks, we walked across the HWY 90 bridge back to Ocean Springs. The next day while comparing notes with others I found that the local law had a heyday busting heads and stomping on folks, all in the name of “Law and Order”, good thing I didn't go to the parade, even better that I didn't spend a dime in Biloxi.
I got some skating done, a local took me to a DIY mini ramp that was nice and mellow, 4' high with 10' tranny, 16' wide out in the woods with dogs and mud. All of the local skaters ride surf boards in the summer and wheels in the winter, I need to find a surfboard soon and start catching waves, I hope that Pensacola provides the surf board as I know it has the surf.
Rick and Cathy of the Valkyrie are ready to sail as well, we will be leaving together and traveling East in tandem, we have to anchor at Horn Island at least once, I am a bit apprehensive of returning to Horn Island but when you fall down you have to get up and drop in again or you'll forever be afraid of the ramp.


I've got a digital camera now and have shot a few images,there will be plenty more to follow. I have set up a photo hosting account with the google, check em out here Capt N8's photos

Post Script: I received this email from a former college roommate and got his permission to share it

So I had this dream last night that your spirit was like jumping around on book shelves. It was a completely rambunctious spirit, wild and untamed. You were jumping around and I was trying to talk to you about school. I was telling you that you were right to not go and that it is basically an institution to tame your mind. And not even the professors, even the cool one's are going to do anything but because the very nature of the fact that they are teaching means that they have been tamed in their way of thinking. It was this long explanation to this wild spirit jumping around on bookshelves above me. It wasn't so much you as it was your spirit. Its kind of hard to explain, but I totally woke up and made myself remember the dream. I know it was much more vivid than this description, but I did good remembering that much. It might have been the Mexican food and the margarita I had before bed, but I just thought that it was interesting...
Lee

end Post Script

Snow on Biloxi Bay

(Pre Script, I wrote this a few days ago, the innernets is still a new invention here so not as wide spread as in the rest of the world)

It's snowing in Ocean Springs Mississippi, not the most likely place fore snow but as I sit here sipping coffee there is sleet and snow mix coming down. School was canceled before the snow started but the Mardi Gras parade is not, carnival has priority. The snow is not going to stick in this part of the state, not even on the bridges. The man that I've been working for is driving his 4 year old daughter north to build a snow man, she's never seen snow before.

It's cold on Waltzing Matilda so I am inside Harbor Landing Yacht Club nursing cold fingers and a bit of a headache from bashing myself on the companionway hatch, or maybe it's from all the beer, the locals have been showing me the watering holes. I wanted to get out of the winter weather but I haven't made it far enough south yet, by the time I hit southern Florida it may be mid summer. I have no schedule or itinerary, my only time table is the weather and my health. This has been a strange voyage and a great adventure, definitely the most exciting and dangerous I have attempted.

After my near disaster I am happy to stay ashore for a while, I'm not scared of heading back out but I am not ready to tackle the Mississippi Sound again just yet. Waltzing Matilda needs some gear to be ready, a decent dingy, a heavy Bruce anchor, new solar panels, an extra bilge pump, lots of little things. Part of the plan for restoring her was to get down south near more boats and water to find used gear, I am surrounded by boats and marine supply so it is time to take a break and outfit better. I got very lucky when we got washed ashore and don't want to push the luck or tempt Neptune any more than needed. The sea is a harsh mistress, she will punish any foolishness with suffering and death, I am not to adverse to dying, it's suffering till then that concerns me.

Internet access is difficult to come by in this little town, Harbor Landing had access when I first arrived but I haven't seen it since I got rescued. The library is very sad, it is a tiny facility with very few books, their information technology is locked down a with encryption, password access, EULA's and very hard to access. I counted 15 computers running Vindoze XP, a horrible waste of money considering the machines are only allowed to access port 80, they even had the word processor programs removed. The library is situated right next to a very large police department with lots of shiny new cars and plenty of very expensive motorcycles, there seems to be a lot of police for such a small town, but this is the deep south. The library in Houma LA was great, large and well stocked with wide open access on all ports, I believe they were running Ubunutu on their public access machines, that saves thousands of dollars, and they had the theory of open access to information. There is a coffee shop that I have visited twice but the proprietor is very curt and snobbish, their network is password protected and disallows access on most ports so I am looking for a different place to get my bean juice and data.

I need to make some money and get insurance with towing, I heard that one ceases running aground once they get towing insurance, I learned via the bus what a good idea it is to have a tow package when one adventures in antique vehicles

I have some work at the dry storage marina, this time of year everyone needs work done on their boats so that when it warms up the vessel is ready to head out. That makes for some cold weather work for shipwrecked sailors like myself, I spent the last 8 hours waxing a boat by hand and feel like the karate kid, wax gets hard to wipe off when the temperature drops.

My first helicopter ride

Two years ago during Bikes Blues and BBQ there was a company giving helicopter rides, I had never been on a helicopter but am too cheap to pay the rates they charge to ride in a dinky little aircraft, besides, Coast Guard helicopters are way cooler.

After being anchored near Horn Island for almost three days I had gotten sick of waiting to get to shore, I really wanted to see the island and Mattie really wanted to run on the beach. The wind has shifted again and I spent another night in 6' waves with 25kt winds, the howling of the rigging was getting annoying. I awoke on Friday morning to slightly less winds and weather reports of another storm coming in. Since the winds had shifted and I was more exposed and wanted to get to the lee side of the island but thought I should avoid the gulf shore and stay in the Mississippi sound so I motored 2 miles around a small point and laid anchor near the ranger station's pier. I anchored in 10' of water and ran out 150' of line on both anchors, rigged a heavier chain on one of them and got ready to ride another day of pounding waves and wind.

I spent all day cleaning, reading and stitching on sails while listening to the radio and the howling winds, in the evening I texted dad to let him know that all was well but I was still off shore trapped in Matilda by the weather. I went to bed around 21:00 and was not too concerned about my anchorage as I had not moved more than 10' all day and I had 2 very heavy anchors out.

I awoke with a start at around 01:00 to the strange “crunch” sound, I thought to myself “Matilda never goes crunch” then I felt a big “BOOM”! I yanked open the companionway hatch and even in the dark I could see that the beach was close, way too close, I felt another BOOM and realized we were being pounded into shore stern first. Part of my storm anchorage procedure is to plan for getting pushed into the beach so I had already pulled the tiller and put a leash on the rudder so that it could break free. I quickly pulled the rudder into the cockpit to avoid damage to it or the stern . There was another big BOOM and Matilda began to roll on her side, the side that is open towards the waves. For you readers that are non-sailors this is bad, for you that are sailors this is very bad. I went forward to heave on the anchor lines hoping to pull her out of the surf, the anchors still had plenty of tension but just dragged through the weedy bottom as Matilda continued to get beaten and take spray through the open companionway. When I realized that there was no way to get her off the beach getting her keel pointed to the surf became very important, even without a rudder I fired the engine and tried to power her despite being aground and hoping not to damage my screw. This worked, she moved ever so slightly and the anchors made just enough drag to swing the bow into the wind and she took the next wave on the port side and rolled over. Now I was not taking on water anymore but I was still just as stuck on the beach, and thats when the waves and wind REALLY picked up.

As the moon rose the waves began breaking over the port rail and Matilda rolled harder into the beach, Mattie was freaking out, I was getting soaked and had the brilliant thought of rowing an anchor out in my kayak, this was one of the dumbest things I have done in a long time but fortunately the water wasn't deep, I got 10' out in a 9' kayak before it capsized. I rolled with it once then waded back to the boat. Mattie was really upset by this time and I decided to use my radio to call someone for help me get off the beach.

There are not many folks monitoring the radio at 01:30, the Coast Guard was the only one that responded to my radio call, I explained the situation and they launched a rescue operation. I told them that I really didn't think I needed to be rescued but they responded that there were vessels en-route and they couldn't let me get killed. I still wasn't grasping the seriousness of the situation because I was right at the shore. Matilda continued to take a beating and I grabbed my “bail out” bag and took my little dog into the kayak, I thought about Chapman's statement that one never steps down into a life raft, always step up when abandoning ship, since it was a kayak and the boat was aground I didn't think that statement applied. I got all of 10' from the boat when the kayak capsized again and I waded to shore with my wet and scared little dog.

The CG boat captain was in contact with me via cell phone and the water was too shallow, the waves too strong and the wind too much for them to get their boats near me, they had a helicopter nearby and it was headed my way. By the time the CG arrived I had walked to the ranger station pier and was hunkered down in a little wooded box that is used for gear storage, even though it was not that cold by Arkansas standards with the wind and wet clothing it was still pretty cold. A USCG swimmer was lowered from the helicopter and found me on the pier, he was very concerned about my health and asked about any injuries and then briefed me on the procedure of getting lifted into a helicopter via basket suspended by a cable. I had never been on a helicopter before and if I wasn't so cold and miserable I might have been excited, but I was worried about my boat and still feeling very stupid for needing a rescue. I felt a less stupid when I saw that the air speed indicator on the USCG helicopter was reading 45 knots while we were hovering to get the swimmer back aboard.
The USCG couldn't raise Gulf Port on the radio so flew me to Mobile, AL, I was getting really worried about being so far inland and wondering how I was going to find my way back to my boat, on the other hand Mattie was quite happy and was a hit with the CG guys, even when she peed on the floor of their station (we really have to deal with the pee problem). The USCG liaison came to get me, escorted me to a waiting taxi and wished me good luck. I asked the taxi driver to take me off base and let me out as I didn't have a whole lot of money, she was a very nice a turned off the meter and drove me to Waffle House. Even though I had hardly any money and was still soaking wet, it was 04:45 and I figured it was about to be a long hard day, better to start it with a hot meal than wet cold and hungry. I smuggled my little dog inside in my bail out bag but she wouldn't stay so I held her on my lap then after eating smuggled her out under my jacket.

I headed south, intent on getting to Pascagoula MS and from there finding my way back to the boat. I started walking south and continued to walk until about 07:30, I had covered only 8 miles and was getting a bit tired already, I haven't been walking much lately. I stopped at a gas station for coffee then started asking patrons if they were headed towards Pascagoula. Unfortunately no one was , even though I didn't ask anyone for money I was given a total of $15 by sympathetic strangers. The gas station employees were sharing the story of my misadventure and folks couldn't give me a ride but figured a few bucks would help. After 2 hours I made a sign that said “Shipwrecked, Pascagoula” and started walking again. I made 5 miles to Highway 90 when an older man hailed me and told me he would give me a ride. He took me all the way to Pascagoula, turns out he was a 50 year veteran of the commercial fisherman trade and was upholding the tradition of the sea, assisting other mariners in need.

I found my way to a marina in Pascagoula and encountered a couple sitting on their sail boat with engines running and sipping wine, I asked if they were headed out but the weather was too rough for them. It would be such a shame to waste a good picnic so they were charging the batteries and enjoying lunch. I explained my situation and they were wonderfully hospitable, they gave me a sack lunch and drove me and Mattie all the way to Ocean Springs, back to the marina we had left four days before.

I found Dave, the owner of the local tow boat operation and explained my situation to him and that I really needed to get back to my boat, the weather was still not co-operating and dave told me not to worry about anyone salvaging Matilda, no one was going out due to the weather. Dave and his family own the Harbor Landing boat storage, restaurant and part of the marina and they were great folks, they put me up in a boat so that I didn't have to sleep outside and made sure that Mattie and I were well fed. Some marina operators are a bit snobbish and rude but these folks are awesome, I've rarely met such generous and hospitable people.

On Sunday the weather was cold but not as windy, no one really wanted to head out to Horn Island in the cold so the restaurant became the most popular place to hunker down and watch super bowl pre-game stuff. After lunch Dave loaded up his boat and we headed off to recover Waltzing Matilda. Through out this whole ordeal I had kept a pretty good sense of humor but as we neared the location I began to worry about loosing my boat and everything in her. As we got closer to the beach I could see a small black dot that slowly began to take the shape of a hull, Matilda came into view still where I left her, lying on her side with drift wood tangled in the mess of anchor lines hanging from her bow. I have never been happier to see her, there was no damage to her hull or rigging and very little water inside considering what a beating she had taken. Dave attached a line to her sampson post and motored out a bit, with a bit of a tug she swung off the sand and into the water. I was elated to see her float again I realized that my voyage was not over, Matilda had survived one of my biggest fears. I motored the 11 miles back to Harbor Landing and on my way home saw more dolphins, I still suspect they are not good luck, it seems to me that they are more like gangsters warning me to stay out of their surf.

I am staying put at Harbor Landing for a little bit, there is a lot of cleaning to do aboard and there is another storm coming on. I've had enough storms lately and I don't feel like challenging the dolphins for territory again so soon.

Waltzing Matilda is proving to be a tough little boat, she is still patient with my inexperience and has shown that she can take a beating. I learned a lot in this most recent adventure, always keep clean socks in your bail out bag, never underestimate the power of a fully charged cell phone battery and the most valuable thing a person can possess is a sense of humor, plus I got to ride in a helicopter.

Post Script, I made the news, again Coast Guard helicopter crew rescues boater & dog stranded in dark on Horn Island

Waltzing Matilda’s L-o-o-o-o-n-g Day; More Dolphins, More Weather

February 5, 2010

After spending awhile in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, doing repairs on his boat, Nathan called yesterday to report that he had set sail again. But he didn’t get very far. He sailed and sailed -- eight hours to be exact – and was wondering why he could not get out of sight of the large bridge connecting Ocean Springs with nearby Biloxi. So he did an inspection of his boat. That’s when he found his rudder had ensnared a crab trap and all the while the trap had been hampering his progress. While bemused by it all, he felt bad that he had inadvertently made off with part of somebody’s livelihood.

While sailing, Waltzing Matilda was again joined by dolphins. Nathan said Mattie would bark at them and the dolphins would tease her.

About 7 this morning, I received the following text from him: “30 kt wind, 6 ft sea, lightning fog and rain, and Im still in the Missi sound. Exploring horn [island] today if I can get to shore.”

In my reply, I told him to let us know when he had reached the island.

At 8:20 a.m. I received the following text: “Im @ the isl, can’t get off boat. Anchors have held well for 36 hours, should hold 12 more. Wind reversed but decresed, low cel signal”

Located in about five miles into the Gulf of Mexico due south between Ocean Springs and Pascagoula, Mississippi, Horn Island is a strip of land about 11 miles long and no more than perhaps a half mile across.

About 1:20 a.m. Saturday we were awakened by Nathan’s voice on our answering machine speaker, calling us from Horn Island, Mississippi, where he had been riding out a storm: “I’ve abandoned ship! My boat is breaking up! The Coast Guard is en-route!”

Not the kind of call parents like to get in the middle of the night.

We immediately got in contact with him by text and voice. He and Mattie the dog were on the beach in the wind. They were 50 feet from Waltzing Matilda which was being tossed by the storm, making sickening crunching sounds. For sure it sounded like she was being wrecked, smashed on the beach.

But there’s more to the story.
--Official Correspondent Dad Landry

Matilda's Waltzing with dolphins

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.

Police after Waltzing Matilda?

January 24, 2010
After spending some time in New Orleans, Nathan set sail on Lake Pontchartrain, the big 630-square mile saltwater lake just north of the city. About mid-day today he called us to tell of a seaplane that had been flying low overhead and that he could see flashing blue lights on a boat coming toward him. The less than stellar reputation of some members of the New Orleans Police Department initially was one of the reasons he had planned to avoid New Orleans and he called to give us a heads up that it looked like he was about to be stopped by the police. Then he hung up. About twenty or thirty minutes later called back to say that it had been a Coast Guard vessel that approached him. They were on a search mission for a downed military training jet. there were no police involved. (correction by N8, I was approached by two Sheriff's department boats, buzzed by a Sheriff's float plane and the Coast Guard made an announcement by VHF16, telephone looses some in translation)
He’s on his way toward Biloxi, Mississippi, planning to arrive in about a week (dependent, as always, upon the weather)
If you’d like to mail him anything, his next postal stop will be
Nathan Landry General Delivery United States Post Office 1581 Bienville Boulevard Ocean Springs, MS 39564

--Official Correspondent Dad Landry

12 miles from New Orleans

This whole adventure started with a joke on the Illinois River somewhere between Siloam Springs and Hanging Rock Camp OK. We had 3 people and 60 beers (the goat came later) and one of us kept saying, "we can keep going you know, this river will take us to New Orleans".

What a long strange journey it has been, the Arkansas River and her amazing beaches the mighty Mississippi and it's nasty infections, tornadoes on the Atchafalaya and being lost in bayou for a day or two. I am a few miles from Harvey Canal, at least thats what the map says but it may be a pooka canal, only the and pure hearted can see it. Tomorrow I will return to the Mississippi for a short jaunt through down town New Orleans to cross into "Industrial Canal", (not the most romantic of names but it gets the point across) and into Lake Ponchartrain. I'd like to find a place to secure Waltzing Matilda and maybe even Mattie, she got us in a bit of trouble with the library at Houma, seems that little dogs pooping next to rusty bicycles are a "hazard". Fortunately the big evil corporate monster under the golden arches has Wifi, thus I was able to get charts on the laptop. I bought a cup of coffee from the BECM and tried not to skid on the floor, seems that the golden arch company mops the floor with grease and it was like ice skating, with less control.

I need to do the tourist thing, see museums, experience culture, I tried to win opera tickets for Friday night via radio but the host of the local NPR didn't give out the area code when he called for caller five to win, but I did meet a very nice man via mis-dialing, unfortunately he didn't know the area code for New Orleans either. I've heard a lot of bad things about the big easy but I have been fed so much mis-information on this journey that I have stopped giving too much weight to hearsay, for instance, the Mississippi does not boil mud, there are no man eating gators in the Atchafalaya in December, coon-ass is not a bad word.

I met a group of very nice coonasses on the ICWW today, four young men in a bass boat quite curious about me, I hailed them and bummed a beer. They motored along side of me for a while explaining some of the local nomenclature and telling me I should try to make the football game in N.O. on Sunday, the Saints are in the play offs. I didn't think it was the best time to tell them that I hate sports, the more organized the more I loath them. Axles of kickball are about as organized as I care to engage in and even then I get too competitive. The coonasses motored off and about an hour returned headed the opposite direction, the pull along side and gave me a 12 pack of Bud Light with instructions to tell everyone that coonass is not a bad word and are pretty good people, except for them coonasses from uptabayou.

Side note, I have used 1 roll of TP so far, thats 1 roll for 60 days, take note.

Waltzing Matilda Gets Shot; Impresses Barge Operators.

January 18, 2010
“My boat got shot,” said Nathan in his phone call today. He hadn't mentioned anything earlier, but New Year's Day he had found a spent 9mm bullet on the roof of his boat and there was paint from Waltzing Matilda on it. This week he found a bullet hole. Damage was minimal: “It hit the strongest place on the top of my boat, where the structural members support the mast.” He surmises that someone shot their pistol off on New Year's Eve and the bullet came down and hit Waltzing Matilda.

“It's something I've acquired in Louisiana: my boat got shot.”

Today, Nathan experienced his first rough sea in open water. NOAA weather radio had predicted 5 knot winds and 1-foot seas; however winds were higher – Nathan estimated they were 25 knots and seas were 3 feet.

He had sailed out of Cypremont Point into West Cote Blanche Bay, on into Bayou Sale Bay, then up Wax Lake Pass on the Intracoastal Waterway toward New Orleans. He went through the shallow waters of one of the largest oil fields in North America over a spiderweb of pipelines.

“Today was one of the very few times the wind was going the direction I wanted to go. The wind was 60 degrees to my bow. As I made it around the point, I got a 90 degree wind dead on my beam. The boat heeled over, the lee rail was touching the water from time to time. The boom was off the water about a foot and a half.

“It's great: the foam, the spray on the deck, the waves washing the deck -- I'm having a wonderful time. Then the dog gets seasick.

“While we're rolling, I lash the rudder down (after all, I went in the same direction for four hours), and went below and needed to stow some things that were rattling around. The second I went below, I got vertigo. As soon as my head was out of the cabin, I was fine. Back in the cabin and after awhile I got vertigo again. This must be what causes seasickness.

“I had a great time on those waves and in the wind. I was a little scared when going out because I wasn't sure how this little boat would handle the waves. But it was awesome. There were waves every three seconds.”

Leaving the open seas of the Gulf of Mexico, Waltzing Matilda headed northeast on the Intracoastal Waterway, then shifted to due east with the wind cooperating, coming directly from the west. Hoisting just his forward genoa sail, and with the diesel motor on, Nathan made 6.8 knots and used very little fuel. (He likes his new GPS unit because he can tell his speed).

As Nathan has gained experience on the rivers, he is gaining the respect of the barge operators. Today, while sailing in line with barges on the Intracoastal, he was able to both meet the sailing demands of Waltzing Matilda and professionally communicate with barge tugs.

Barge radioing to another barge: “I'm going to pass at one whistle (port-to-port or left side-to-left side). There's also a little sailboat. Looks like he's at two whistle (passing starboard-to-starboard or right side-to-right side). Nathan: “This is Waltzing Matilda. I'll pass at one whistle.” Barge operator: “Waltzing Matilda – I see you at one whistle.” Second barge: “Wow. It's really unusual for a pleasure craft who knows anything about radio operations. Other barge: “Yeah. It's really surprising to see someone in a sailboat who knows anything about navigation.”


According to Nathan: “Now they not only not make fun of me, but now they give me pointers. A month ago I was a navigation hazard. Now I'm a novice.”

So busy is ship traffic on the Intracoastal that at Morgan City, Louisiana, there is a traffic controller. A barge operator advised Nathan to be in touch with them. “You go as slow as we do, so you need to be on their radar,” the barge operator said.

Even as we spoke on the phone this evening, a loud diesel motor could be heard in the background: a crew boat for an oil rig.

“I'm having a wonderful time,” Nathan said. “It's great to be back on the water. And I'm sitting here with a scrawny little dog on my lap.”

--Official Correspondent Dad Landry

Visiting Waltzing Matilda

January 17, 2010

Barbra and I were in south Mississippi for the funeral of a friend late last week, so Saturday we drove west about four hours and met up with Nathan in southern Louisiana. Weather and rudder problems docked Waltzing Matilda for several days at a yacht club at Cypremort Port in Vermilion Bay of the Gulf of Mexico. Nathan is in territory where there are not a lot of roads, at least on the map. Google Maps and cell phones sure made it easy to find him in Louisiana swamp country. In the fog, mist and rain we arrived at where Waltzing Matilda was docked to find Nathan and Mattie the dog waiting for us. Mattie is skittish with strangers and even though she met Barbra and me once before, she did not warm up to us, preferring to be held in Nathan’s arms.

It was good to see Nathan. He indicated that instead of attempting to sail in the Gulf of Mexico, he’s going to take the Intracoastal Waterway toward Florida. He’d have to go out fifty miles to find deep enough water in the Gulf and he doesn’t want to deal with the oil rigs and their traffic.

We drove to New Iberia and met Glenn and Doris Holcomb, parents of Nathan’s college friend Ragan. Waltzing Matilda earlier had spent two weeks docked in the river behind their beautiful home. In the backyard and pictured above with Nathan is the biggest oak tree I think I’ve ever seen: it’s believed to be more than 300 years old. Glenn said “We didn’t buy the house, we bought the tree.” Indeed, it is beautiful. Doris, Barbra, Nathan, and I then went to lunch at a down-home local place featuring Cajun food. Glenn stayed home to rest following a business trip. Working internationally in the oil business, Glenn said he’s found that roads in China are mapped better than those in the swamps of Louisiana. Glad Nathan docked near a major road so we could find him! I came through this country forty years ago and was struck by the isolation and poverty here at that time. On this trip I noted people in hardscrabble conditions in the back country, but was amazed at the development of local communities and highways since I was here last. Everything seems geared to the oil business and there are billboards advertising jobs on oil rigs and in support services. No recession here for people with the right skills (machinists, marine licensees, welders). After lunch, Doris took Nathan back to Waltzing Matilda and Barbra and I headed back for Arkansas. At home the next night we found a cell phone message from Nathan saying he had set sail and that he had a story to tell us the next time we talked. Something regarding a bullet hole in the side of Waltzing Matilda. A bullet hole? Stay tuned…

--Official Correspondent Dad Landry

Wave at Waltzing Matilda?

January 13, 2009
Nathan is finally out of the Intracoastal Waterway and is in the Gulf of Mexico. He’s glad that he can finally use his sails and not burn diesel fuel. He’s two miles offshore, but keeps getting stuck in the mud because the dirty water is only 3 to 6 feet deep. A fisherman helped him get unstuck once. Another time, he was on the radio with a barge and the barge operator said “Hey, want me to throw you a wave?” Sure enough, the wake from the barge rocked him loose.
Nathan’s larder is full, he’s loaded with fuel and food, he has a business sponsor -- Map Oil Tools -- and “a couple of dollars in the bank now” because some people are sending donations to PayPal. He said “Even $5 or $10 a month would buy him a gallon or two of fuel.”
--Official Correspondent Dad Landry

Out of the Bayou

It has been dandy but I am headed out of the bayou today, there is a wreck that I spotted and would like to see if I can salvage some bits from it. I am in no hurry and may be headed to Cypremort Point State Park or I might skip that and head to Grand Island State Park. Either way I am rested, clean and ready to be back underway.
(edit)
Delayed for a day by the bridge that wouldn't open

Still in Louisiana

I am still anchored in the bayou Teche near New Iberia LA, (N29°58.790' W091°45.260')having a lovely time and hosted by wonderful people. Still trying to get the boatswain to stop growling at the host!
A couple of friends were concerned about my sailing into the sunset with only a compass so we all went in 1/3rds and bought a nice little hand held GPS unit. It comes loaded with plenty of maps, road maps. I have to figure out how to get the intracoastal canal on it, and the names of all the bays, bayous and lakes that are connected without spending a whole bundle of money on the software. I was also given a decent used laptop that was running a corrupt version of Vindoze that quickly sucked the battery dry. Now it has a nice light version of Debian on it so I will be able to hit coffee shops when I come to shore.

Holed up due to a massive cold front headed this way, then off to the sea for me. I have enjoyed this break immensely but I am getting restless and ready to be sailing again.

Ahoy from 2010

I made my journey's first step and am recuperating from the rigors of the rivers quite well. Have been sleeping indoors, eating cooked food and spending very little time aboard Waltzing Matilda, Mattie is getting royal treatment and has shown that she is easily bribed via ham. We spent NYE together in a barn napping on bales of alfalfa surrounded by horses while it rained on the locals. I am not too keen on getting my head wet in the cold and naps in the hay loft is why we invented Jägermeister anyway.

I have taken on provisions, restocked fuel, done a little bit of work and made a little bit of money and despite the wonderful hospitality I am looking forward to getting into the gulf and getting underway. Thanks to The Google I am able to browse satellite images and determine a good course as well as find interesting things to see along the way. My next destination is as follows:(subject to change via captain's whim)

In a few days I will depart New Iberia nd head back down the Teche Bayou canal to the intracoastal and into the gulf at Jaws Bay. There I will set sail and head south west (still going west) to Cypremort Point State Park on Vermillion Bay. Cypremort Point State Park caters to sailing and sailboats so even in the off season I should be able to have a good place to practice sailing in larger waters. The rivers are too tiny and narrow to really set sail and having cliffs and trees around all the time makes the wind do funny things. I am going to spend a few days learning the gulf then head east (finally) to Grand Isle State park. This will be my 1st time out in the gulf navigating via compass but I will still be in sight of land the whole time.

From Grand Isle I will be headed north east, back into the bays and bayous to the town of Empire LA, about 90 miles south of New Orleans. Once there I will take a lock back into the mighty Mississippi and travel downstream a few miles to another lock at Ostrica, LA and into Quarantine Bay. Still heading north east I will sail through Chandeleur Sound to Ship Island MS. This will be my 1st time out so far that I may not be able to see land and I will definitely be reliant on my compass. One of the largest shipping fleets in the world operates in these waters so it's not like I will be alone, there are many oil rigs and various transports, hopefully no more plethora of flat bottom aluminum boats or those obnoxious fan boats. As I near Biloxi Bay I plan on a visit to Fort Massachusetts. I have not been doing enough tourist things on this voyage and it is time to start making up for that now that I am off the rivers and (soon) out of the bayous.

Lots of work to do on Matilda, got a few things I need to aquire before I hit the bay (like a life boat).

Here are posts about the restore of the Waltzing Matilda with video and images from Hillbillyfunk.blogspot.com
Engine and float test in beaver lake
The saga of restoration
Boat moving day!
More about the boat
I bought a boat!

Ahoy hoy from the Gulf coast!

this is Captian Nathan writing, I have reached New Iberia, LA and am currently at anchor at the Holcomb's house on the Bayou Teche. The Intracoastal waterway took me from Morgan City to "somewhere" near a little town named Landry. I ran after dark trying to make in closer to New Iberia and followed the tug "Jo Ann Marie" for several hours to avoid being run down as well as to keep my bearings. In the dark everything becomes strange and my body has no way to deal with the odd images my eyyes are recieving, so I get vertigo and hallucinations. Following a tug allows me to have a fixed point of reference as well as a big safety zone, if the tug hits anything it moves whatever it hit, sometimes it moves it right under the tug and into his wake so I run just on the starboard prop wash.

I cruised until I came to a private cable ferry that serves a salt mine and pulled into a drainage ditch, it was a nice 6' deep with a soft muddy bottom 1/2 mile from an entrance to West Cote Bay in the gulf. Little did I know I anchored at high tide. I slept in and when i awoke my 1st thougth was, "I don't remember seeing those rocks last night". Matilda was not in the mud, yet, I had all of 3 inches beneath her keel.

My cell phone was out of airtime and Regan was trying to find me, she called the ferry operator and said that she was looking for her friend "in a little sailboat", the ferry captian responded, "I'm looking right at him" and gave Regan directions to find me. I left Matilda for about 24 hours and went into town to do some much needed laundry, have my 1st indoor hot shower since I left the Arkansas and get some innernetting done. I was also able to use the google to find a route from where Waltzing Matilda was to the Holcomb's house. When I call on the radio to inquire about my position I often have to answer the question "You came from where without charts?"

Upon my return to Matilda I had to wait for the tide, she was settled into the mud rudder first as her aft anchor had been hit by a sport fisherman and was not keeping her in the canal correctly, no damage done. I had a few hours to kill and chatted with the ferry operator as his leisure time permitted, cleaned inside the boat and petted my dog. At 11:30 I was ready to move, I had risen 2" with the tide and using my little "hooker" anchor I turned Matilda 180 degrees and moved her out of the ditch into the intracoastal.

I backtracked about 3 miles to the canal that leads to the Teche bayou motored up the Teche river. It was really pretty with so many houses and lawns coming right to the water's edge, lots of parks and people out to wave hello as I putted past. I came to the 1st low bridge and had to call a telephone number to get the transportation department to open the bridge for me to pass. Despite being curtiuos and polite on the phone the state employee was nasty nasty nasty! very rude and curt and then informed her bridge operator that I was rude to her, this was relayed to me via radio from the bridge operator. When I am 700 miles from home I am not rude to anyone, especially not someone I need to open a bridge for me. I assume it has something to do with being a state employee nearing the end of a shift right before a holiday. No matter, the bridges opened and I ran in the dark all the way to New Iberia. I had to pass one barge in the dark and we stayed in constant communication in order to make it past each other safely.

as I approached the "Olivier" (pronounced O live A) bridge I radioed "This is sailing vessel Waltzing Matilda, I am approaching the Olivier bridge". As soon as I released the microphone key I saw fireworks go off on the far side of the bridge, a signal to me from the Holcomb's welcoming me to their home. I had to wait 30 min for the bridge operator to get to his location and open the bridge and when I came ashore there was cold beer, hot food and great company waiting next to a big bonfire.

Waltzing Matilda is currently anchored in the Teche with a makeshift gangplank of old packing crates and a kayak to make shore access, I am showered, shaved and in clean clothing and Mattie is quite pampered. She has adjusted to boat life after a few hard weeks and is the best boatswain I have ever had.

Waltzing Matilda in “Another World”

December 26, 2009
This will be a long one, as Nathan had quite a bit to say.
Waltzing Matilda was two miles west of Morgan City, Louisiana, when Nathan called this afternoon. He’s gone about 730 miles on this more than month-long water adventure. Now, only about twenty miles of Louisiana swamp separate him from the Gulf of Mexico.
He’s on the Intracoastal Waterway sailing with a tailwind of about 3 knots. “It does feel weird to be going west,” he said. But he’s headed toward New Iberia, Louisiana, where he plans to tie up for perhaps a week at the waterfront home of the father of his friend Ragan. The next major checkpoint will be Vermillion Bay of the Gulf of Mexico.
Nathan and Ragan met while both were students at Northeastern State University in Oklahoma and they often partnered up for swing dancing. Ragan apparently wants them to go dancing at some place in Louisiana where the dance is from 7:30 a.m (that’s right, a.m.), to noon. So strange is that arrangement that the bar serves breakfast.
Nathan described Morgan City, which he just passed, as a petroleum center and a major port and it’s where he saw his first oceangoing ship on this trip. Although small by ocean standards, the ship he saw was perhaps 80 feet tall and 300 feet long and made Waltzing Matilda seem very insignificant. At Morgan City the ocean ships transfer containers to the river barges. And it was there that he also saw a derelict iron-hulled three-masted schooner rusting and listing.
The barges have been smaller where Nathan is now, compared to the monsters he had to contend with on the Mississippi River. “Where I’m at now, the water is as smooth as glass, there’s no current at all. There’s a barge a half mile ahead and one is creeping up behind but I’m off to the side and out of his way.” As we carried on our phone conversation, Nathan began to speak perhaps as much to himself as to us about the barge behind him “This guy’s not going to give me any room here.” Then: “You might be able to hear his tug as he comes by” (we didn’t). “He’s the Thomas E. Rollins and he has two empty liquid containers for diesel fuel.”
Diesel fuel is a problem for Waltzing Matilda. He’s very low on fuel, although he has been burning discarded crankcase oil, of which he has a half gallon. Baldwin, Louisiana, will be “my first time at panhandling,” Nathan said. “I’ll find a gas station and I’ll have my fuel can and will play my violin and have a sign that says ‘Will work for diesel fuel and dog food.’”
Colorful storytelling, but I think he was serious.
If anyone were around Nathan in the lonely Louisiana swamps where he is sailing, it might appear to them that Mattie the dog is piloting the Waltzing Matilda. In the calm water Nathan sometimes sets the sales and lashes the tiller. Mattie likes to lie across the tiller, so Nathan tells her “Okay, you drive the boat, I’m going to go below and make some coffee.” And it looks like Mattie is indeed “driving.”
“I really like Louisiana,” Nathan said, despite its marshland. “It’s a different world. For instance, in the swamp there are no pickup trucks; instead people get around in boats.” He has been in places where it’s swampland for a hundred miles in any direction. “There are some interesting characters living on the waterfront here.” In one case he saw a wrecked mobile home that was floating on 55-gallon drums. It had a sign that read: “No Trapossing.” Another sign reflected the circumstances of water everywhere: “Groceries delivered by truck or boat.”
However, there was one place where he did come across some pickup trucks; in fact, there were 5 to 6-hundred of them gathered at a hunting spot. Someone had bagged a big black boar and Nathan said he told them it was the ugliest deer he had ever seen.
“The swamp is beautiful,” according to Nathan, “Although the foliage is down due to winter. There are lily pads all over and there’s floating foliage and cypress and Spanish moss and lots of owls. I see and hear all kinds of birds. I saw alligator tracks.”
Other news of the Waltzing Matilda:
--He’s heard French spoken on the ship’s radio. And as he nears the ocean ships he’s heard Chinese.
--Christmas dinner consisted of canned ham and potatoes.
--Given the complexity of waterways and channels in Louisiana, Nathan said he got lost on the Atchafalaya River. Then he qualified his statement, indicating that he wasn’t completely lost. I guess it was like the statement by early American explorer and pioneer Daniel Boone: “I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for several weeks.”
Tonight, Nathan expects to for the first time start noting the ocean’s tide and its effects inland. The tidal change, he said, should be about two feet. As we wrapped our conversation today, Nathan made one more observation that reflected optimism and that was worthy of a sailor.
“Today,” he said, “The sun rose one-half minute earlier than it did yesterday. The days are getting longer.”

Waltzing Matilda’s Schedule? “Everything is Based upon Weather.”

December 24, 2009
“The cove I stopped in has served quite well,” Nathan said in a phone call the morning of Christmas Eve. “It was eerie while I was talking on the phone with Ragan getting directions on how to go through the canals when I heard the tornado sirens go off ten miles north of me. I saw clouds but I didn’t see a tornado. On the local radio they said ‘Take cover now and if you’re in a mobile home get out of it.’” But weather in the cove where Nathan is was not bad. Today, he described the water in the cove “As smooth as glass but with raindrops.”
Quite a few raindrops, apparently. Yesterday two feet of rain fell upstream from him. As a result, the locks on the Atchafalaya River are closed and if he sets sail he’ll be unable to leave the river until he arrives in Morgan City in the south of Louisiana. But he’s not planning on going anywhere for awhile. “Everything is based on weather, no matter what my time schedule is,” he said.
Despite being buttoned up inside the Waltzing Matilda, Nathan said “I’m very exposed to the elements. Water was dripping on my head this morning – the dog was unhappy about that. But when it rains two inches in an hour everything gets wet.”
For now, Nathan said he is “catching up on my sewing, cleaning the boat a bit and doing laundry on the deck in the nice clean water.” The Atchafalaya is much cleaner than the Mississippi, “There’s fish here,” he said. And helping him to pass the time “Everybody and his brother has called to wish a Merry Christmas.”
While he says he’d like to perhaps find a church where he can have Christmas dinner, his plan otherwise is to enjoy canned ham. He says he’s only eating about 900 calories a day – he’s got plenty of food but says he doesn’t need to eat much. He sleeps eight to ten hours a night, much of it, he said, induced by stress (presumably a lot of that from being on the Mississippi River).
When the weather clears he will run toward New Iberia, Louisiana, mainly on diesel power, since the canals are too small to sail in. Years ago Nathan had an old diesel Mercedes which he rigged up to burn cooking oil. Whenever he would drive by, his car often smelled like french fries. A problem with that fuel was that in cold weather it could congeal and clog his fuel system. In Louisiana, Nathan said “It’s getting warm enough now that I can start looking for veggie oil for fuel. It is an advantage to having a diesel engine, right?”
We’ll join Nathan by telephone again tomorrow night along with our daughter, Amber, and son-in-law, Eric, flying in Christmas night to what we hope will turn into the first white Christmas Northwest Arkansas has had in 34 years.
On behalf of Captain Nathan and crew member Mattie the Dog, let me as official correspondent of the Waltzing Matalida, wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy