High Water

by Richard Baker

My childhood sweetheart and I celebrate our wedding anniversary on August 18 each year, and this year our good friends Jeff Hamilton and Nancy Sullivan threw us a party. Well, okay- they got married, they invited us, and there was a party. Essentially, it was the same thing. And even though the rain that fell made walking to the excursion boat interesting, everyone had a great time.
However, that same rain caused extensive flood damage to several communities on the river, and those people definitely did not have a good time. The rain continued to fall for much of the next week. This created high water all the way down the river. In Dubuque, where we keep our boat, the stage was at 14.5 feet, whereas the previous week, it was around 6.5 feet. When we arrived on Friday night, it was obvious that the water was up. The ramp normally is at about a 20 degree slope, now it was more like 5 degrees. But the really interesting gauge was the twenty foot tall posts that the dock is tethered to. Usually that post is 2 feet below the ceiling; in fact I often thought that if the water got any lower, it would hit the under side of the roof. Now there was a space of 10 feet above the post to the under side of the roof!
The trip to Clinton that we had planned for a year had to happen now, or we weren’t going to have time this year at all, so we decided to go anyway. Jack Stone and his wife Kris on their boat River Gold and us on Just Because, left Dubuque on Saturday, August 25. The first thing we noticed, besides the fact that there was considerable debris blocking our exit from the marina, was that the river was almost deserted. As we headed south to Lock 12, I began to wonder. Were all of the other boaters a bunch of chickens, or was I foolish to be out here now? I decided that if we were careful and kept a good lookout, we were probably safer during high water than low water. With low water, you could hit bottom any time. It was almost impossible now.
Cindy kept a continuous lookout which helped us dodge several hazards, but really, there wasn’t as much junk as you would expect. What happens, among many other things, during high water, is that the water will float dead trees and branches that normally rest on the bank. They are half water logged, so they float mostly submerged. Hitting a deadhead can cause huge damage.
Lock 12 was interesting. The dam was totally open, the first time I’ve ever seen that. It was the fastest lock through we ever experienced, because the water dropped only 6 inches, instead of several feet. South of the lock, we saw a can buoy that was about a quarter mile from where it should be, and another time there were two almost touching each other, literally 2 feet apart. If you have never seen a Mississippi buoy, they are about 10 feet tall, with about 18” showing above the water. We saw many with only inches showing, and one that was bobbing so that it would disappear, and then show up again, depending on the waves. These buoys are connected with a chain to a LARGE piece of concrete, so to move that much weight, the buoy has to be well under water.
We finally made it to our first destination, Savanna, Illinois. We always have fun in Savanna, and in fact a few weeks ago we were talking about the town at a dinner function, and a woman overheard us and said “Are you talking about Savanna, Illinois?" When we assured her we were, she was aghast, saying ”why would you want to live there?” We told here we were not moving there, only visiting, and I think she then thought we were only goofy, instead of goofy and stupid. The fact is, there is a lot to do there, including bicycling in the Mississippi Wild Life Refuge, shopping in one of the larger antique stores I’ve ever seen; and always a crowd favorite, a visit to the Iron Horse Social Club. This is a biker bar with a motorcycle museum inside, and it is cool. Their motto is “Where Intellectual Trash and Bikers Forgather”, and boy, is that ever the truth. If you ever want to see your life flash before your eyes, walk into a biker bar on a Saturday night while you are dressed as a boater. We faced a sea of denim and black leather; they saw four mid-life suburbanites with shorts and boating shoes and watches. But it was okay, the silence didn’t last that long, and we were soon making friends. In fact, as we were sitting at the bar, a passing woman pinched me in the rear, and when I turned around, she pointed to Commander Jack and said “he told me to do it”. Just another example of the locals trying to make the visitors feel at home. She later came up and introduced herself as “Loony Linda”, a now retired former bar owner of a place in town named, you guessed it, Linda’s. I could go on, about a place named McCool’s, whose slogan is “Please Don’t Let Me Drink Alone”; or a place named Poopy’s, whose slogan is- well never mind, this is a family publication.
Our next stop was going to be Clinton, Iowa where we were hoping to see their new marina, but we found out they weren’t done with it yet, so we decided to stay in Savanna two more nights. Darn.
Someday, let me tell you about the boat eating bridge, also in Savanna. Till then, see you on the river.





This article originally appeared in the October 2007 edition of Harbor Lights, a publication of the Madison Sail and Power Squadron. Copyright 2007 Richard Baker

Lock Etiquette
on the Upper Mississippi

by Richard Baker

My wife, Cindy, and I recently returned from a 430-mile trip on the Mississippi from Dubuque to Redwing. A trip like this usually has one pronounced side effect—it graphically points out to me the need for public safe-boating courses. While there are many facets of boating on the river that present problems for people in general, one area that seems to surpass all of the rest is using the locks properly.

A successful locking experience actually starts well before you arrive at the lock. A call to the lock on Channel 14 can tell you whether to hurry to make a passage before a tow ties up the lock for two hours, or if it’s already too late. Sometimes the lock master will hold the gates open to allow you to make that passage. Proper radio language goes like this: “Lock 11, how long of a wait for a northbound passage?” Phrasing your request for information in that fashion allows the lock master to respond one time with one sentence. Keep in mind that on a weekend day, he may answer that question a hundred times or more.

If there is a short wait, you should float in the area to the side of the main route out of the locks, while staying within the channel. For longer waits, you can pick a safe area and anchor. Just be sure to monitor your radio so you are ready when it’s time to enter the lock.

Enter the lock when the light turns green, and not before. If it has not turned green, get on the radio and ask if it is okay to enter. The lock master may have forgotten to change the light from red to green. As you enter the lock, remember you are in a no-wake zone. You should be slowly approaching the wall in the area where the lock attendant is standing. My own strategy is to arrive at that point with my boat two or three feet off the wall, and then nose the bow in till the person on my bow has the line that the attendant has lowered to us; then I turn to the wall and put the engines in reverse, thereby moving the stern to the wall. At that point, I put the engines in neutral and leave the helm to grab the line. When I know I’m done maneuvering the boat, I return to the helm and shut the engines down. The lock chamber is a big box without a lid; the exhaust fumes from a running motor can accumulate inside and overcome those near you.

Usually, the attendant will position the boats as far forward as he can, but occasionally, conditions dictate that the line of boats starts farther back. This happened to us two times on our trip. Once was for wind and current; I’ll talk about the other case shortly.

Leaving the lock properly is easy, though most people do it wrong. Once the gates open, and it’s safe to exit, the lock master will sound the horn. At that point, the ONLY one who can leave the wall is the FIRST boat in the line. Remember, first in, first out. The reason is simple. If a boat gets caught by the wind and turned sideways after his engine doesn’t start, which we have seen happen, then we avoid the very dangerous traffic jam as boats behind him try to avoid him. Just wait. It won’t delay your trip for more than a couple of minutes.

You should remain at no-wake speed till you are at least past the end of the wall on the other side of the locks, but if there are boats waiting to enter; it is common courtesy to wait till you are past them to increase speed. Remember, you are always responsible for your wake.

So why did the attendant put us at halfway down the lock wall? When the gates opened, we knew. We had entered on the first southbound passage after a tow had left the lock heading north. Another tow was waiting right outside the gate to enter. The solid wall of steel barges that faced us was a little intimidating at first. Putting us further back on the wall gave us time to adjust to a new situation as we left the lock.

A little courtesy goes a long way when using the locks. Thank the line attendants as they help you; you may even thank the lock on the radio as you leave. Be courteous to the other users also—you will probably see them at the next lock.

See you on the river.




This article originally appeared in the August 2007 edition of Harbor Lights, a publication of the Madison Sail and Power Squadron. Copyright 2007 Richard Baker

Hello

This is the first attempt at something like this for me, so I'm not sure about a lot of things. My idea at this point is to post some articles I've written, so it's not going to be a daily sort of thing.


The subject is the Mississippi River because my wife Cindy and I boat on the river. What I hope to bring to the subject is a perspective from someone who wasn't raised on the river. The value of that is the fact that I am not at all jaded about it, because it's all relatively new to me. I hope my stories make you feel like you were there, and I hope they convince you to come to the river and experience it for yourself.

I'd love to have the first story posted right now, however I'm writing this on my backup computer, since my main machine is in the shop getting scrubbed because of a virus attack. I used to be pretty sure that theives were the lowest form of life on this earth, but now I'm thinking that people who create these viral invasions may be one notch lower on the evolutionalry scale.

See you on the river.