Last I posted we were headed toward New Orleans from Houma expecting a quick stop to ride out a storm, grab some tunes n’ brews in the French Quarter, and get outta there toward Panama City Beach for New Years. In the thirteen days since that post, we’ve made it all the way to….
Biloxi, Mississippi. Thats not PCB. Dang.
“Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans.” I guess Lennon had a good point. We didn’t exactly make it as we planned it, but such is the life of a cruiser.
The trip from Houma to New Orleans was mostly relaxing. We did pull up to the Boomtown Casino just South of the Harvey Lock where we actually managed to get $90 in free food for spending about that much gambling while getting free drinks all night. The ICW on that run wasn’t heavily trafficked while we were cruising through, and the infamous Harvey Channel and Lock was a cakewalk compared to the horror stories we’d heard back home (ehm-ehm Capt. Rob).
The run from Harvey to the Industrial Canal was exhilarating. The Mississippi River is a mighty one indeed, and we were able to get the heavy Morgan up to 9kts under engine only with a vigorous following current.
The real excitement came when we tried to pass North through the Industrial Lock. Fortunately for us, the GoPro ran out of battery while we were tied up before this part so I don’t have to prove quite how awkward it was since theres no photographic evidence. But let me tell ya, we all felt pretty silly. Rob, you’d have loved this part.
When we pulled up around 2:00pm, two barges and the lockmaster were radioing each other from opposite ends of the lock about how the wind was really kicking up. Its blowing 35-40kts from the south and still building. After about an hour, those barges had passed and it was our turn. Keep in mind we have to make the next bridge by 3:30 to beat the curfew, or we’d be stuck in the narrow channel until 7:00pm when the bridges can open again.
… And theres a big storm on the way.
We pulled into the lock running 3kts under bare poles and the engine in neutral, so believe its windy. As instructed, we pulled our port side along the wall and tossed lines to the guy on top of the wall. He told us to tie one to the bow and the other about halfway toward the stern. Almost immediately, the stern caught the wind and swung out like a barn door in a wind-tunnel.
We were now almost totally sideways and the wind was building behind us to the South. With Paul holding the bow off the concrete wall, Adam and I put everything we had into pulling the stern through the wind to bring us back in line just as the lock opened up for us to leave before the next barge came in. Next time, we’re tying the stern.
That was just the start of the Industrial Canal.
There were something like a million lift bridges in the few miles from the Industrial Lock to the North end of the Industrial Canal and Seabrook Marina. One such bridge, the Chef Manteur highway bridge, didn’t have anyone at the controls. Contigo’s mast rises about 48.5 feet above the water, and the “reported clearance” for this bridge is 50 feet. Luckily, the wind wasn’t hitting us quite as bad this far from the Mississippi, but it was still a factor. Now, though, we we’re caught between a now closed railroad bridge and a supposedly just tall enough Chef Manteur lift bridge with no one to lift it.
After phone calls, a ton of Googling, a zillion VHF hails to New Orleans Maritime Traffic, anyone on channels 9, 13, 14, and 16, and a bunch of little circles in this little spot we’d gotten stuck in, we decide to go for it. The bridge says 50’, and we say we’re shorter than that. So I said lets go.
Its impossible to articulate the rush of nervous adrenaline we were feeling right then. We’d just survived the Industrial Lock, and now this. When I tell you we cut it close, it just doesn’t do it justice. We really cut it close. Another foot of tide and the antenna might have been a part of the bridge. Another few feet and who knows. Whew.
After that, we made it to the marina just in time for that storm to hit. So many things came so close that day, and it all seemed to fall in line just at the right time. We beat the storm and made it to NOLA!
No matter how you look at it, things can only be so bad when you’re talking about being stuck in New Orleans for what turned out to be a week. The Seabrook Marina was a great place to stay, and even though in the NE corner of town we weren’t close to really anything entertaining, we managed our way into the Quarter for Christmas Eve without having to call a cab. It seems our good friend Dax was yet again cruising by toward his new job working crew boats, so we had a ride wherever we wanted to go pretty much the whole week.
[^The Spotted Cat is easily one of my favorite live music joints in New Orleans]
Good Call Paul also suggested we all check out the Treme band for Christmas Eve… and that was friggin’ brilliant.
Speaking of Good Call Paul/Brother Pablo, breakfast on the boat is never short of bangin’!
Even a bit separated from town, it wasn’t too bad getting around for supplies when we needed them, and the marina had a nice little general store not fifty feet from the boat. Unfortunately we couldn’t track down a diesel mechanic in the area since it was Christmas and then the weekend, but we had a lot of time to figure out a good work-around for starting the Yanmar.
We also ordered a little something to help us get around while at anchor…
As soon as we can get some lettering, the name of the Newport Vessels 8’10” inflatable is “Gettin’ It.”
After a week in New Orleans for what we’d hoped would be the longest weather delay we’d see for a while, we jumped into Lake Ponchotrain and headed North East…
