With a cloudy Monday morning, we had to wait until about 7:45 for enough light to comfortably leave Poland Creek. The threatening weather turned into a short blow just before midnight, and just a little bit of rain last night. So after drying off everything enough to travel by, we were on our way. We timed it perfectly, by accident, arriving at Fort Louden Lock just before 10:00 a.m. when they opened. "Makin Memories" was already in front of the lock to claim their position, along with "McTug". We seemed to have the lock master confused since the other four boats pulled out of Fort Louden Marina, including "Playin Hooky" and "Off the Radar", but we did get permission to raft to "Makin Memories" while the rest of them rafted together on another bollard. By 11:00 the lock doors were open and we were free to leave. We took up the caboose even after talking to "McTug" on the VHF radio. We talked to them the weekend before last at Whine on the Dock as they are Loopers and they noticed our gold flag, so I thought maybe we could hook up at anchor this evening and give them some pointers, especially on the Tenn-Tom since we are so well versed on that water by now. They seemed to be in a hurry at seven miles per hour though since they informed us they were going as far as possible tonight with Joe Wheeler State Park on their itinerary for Saturday night. Obviously trying to make the rendezvous, but part of doing the loop is not being in a hurry though, isn't it? Good for them though that they took this side trip all the way to Knoxville! If anyone knows them, I have lots of pictures of them thinking we would hook up tonight.
No one left in sight, we just meandered down the Tennessee River listening to the bear hunters from Tellico on VHF channel 68. I feel like I learned some of the lingo and will be ready to hunt with Doyle next winter.
Just after 1:00 p.m. we were traversing under I-75. Just before the Highway 30 bridge in Kingston is where you will find the ultimate Tennessee fan on the water.
 |
| Took these pictures for Kevennie |
It was thankfully an uneventful day of travel. We entered Martins Branch for our intended anchorage for the night, but could not find a comfortable depth with swinging room in the NNW winds that picked up. We tried the next slough, which was a first class harbor, usually a good indication, but it was too deep for comfortable swinging room also. Hoping third time is a charm, we tried the next slough. Sharon said it was their favorite, so that was encouraging. It facing directly north was encouraging. We slid in there for quite a ways but found 16 feet of depth which seemed like the best we were going to get and you would never know the wind was blowing except for the sound in the trees. It all seemed perfect except for the rock banks on the way in, sometimes indicating a rock bottom, but the anchor stuck immediately. We were snuggled in after 10 hours and 66 miles of travel. There seemed to be just enough sunlight left in this small cove to shave legs by lake water in a bucket. Spike had better ideas for that lake water though, as he drank it like he was thirsting to death after spending all day under the couch as he normally does while underway.
It was thankfully an uneventful day of travel. We entered Martins Branch for our intended anchorage for the night, but could not find a comfortable depth with swinging room in the NNW winds that picked up. We tried the next slough, which was a first class harbor, usually a good indication, but it was too deep for comfortable swinging room also. Hoping third time is a charm, we tried the next slough. Sharon said it was their favorite, so that was encouraging. It facing directly north was encouraging. We slid in there for quite a ways but found 16 feet of depth which seemed like the best we were going to get and you would never know the wind was blowing except for the sound in the trees. It all seemed perfect except for the rock banks on the way in, sometimes indicating a rock bottom, but the anchor stuck immediately. We were snuggled in after 10 hours and 66 miles of travel. There seemed to be just enough sunlight left in this small cove to shave legs by lake water in a bucket. Spike had better ideas for that lake water though, as he drank it like he was thirsting to death after spending all day under the couch as he normally does while underway.
No comments:
Post a Comment