Port Arthur, Texas to Morgan City, Louisiana

Miles: 190
Hours: 34

Getting under way at 4 a.m. puts a crimp in anybody’s style and it was crazy freezing cold. We finally got marginally comfortable after putting on five layers of clothes apiece and going into the cabin to fire up the stove every two hours to make food or hot drinks. The kids never complained of the cold as they were huddled under three layers of blankets watching Miyasaki films all day, drinking hot chocolate and eating goldfish to their hearts’ content. They thought the whole thing was an excellent holiday. Before we left, my Mom and Dad gave us a massive bucket of DVDs that included Nim’s Island, a story about a fun adventurous girl who lives on an island in the Pacific. They were convinced we were on our way to go visit her. Did I disabuse them of this notion? No I did not. I am a bad mom. I can live with that.

We were fighting a current the whole way, so going was slow, but with the cold weather we didn’t have to worry about the engine overheating, something that’s been a problem in the past. The ICW is tight and it seems we are always facing the wind on it, so we mostly motored the whole way.

Mariners use the VHF to communicate, letting everybody know what everybody is doing, like CBs for truckers. There are different channels, so if you want to have a semi-private chat you say to the tug or the traffic station “Meet me on Channel 2.” Or whatever. Just don’t cuss. The FCC has no sense of humor about that. Otherwise you monitor certain channels like 16 for news about weather, wrecks, problems, upcoming issues, anything. On the ICW, you monitor 13 for general traffic (other vessels on the ICW) or to talk to the bridges (ask them to open up and let you through) and 14 to talk to the locks. We do 3 hour shifts so I’m usually up for the 1 m to 4 pm late late night shift.

Lots of funny things you hear on the VHF, especially as a lady driving a sailboat late at night on a nasty weather day. Like at 3 a.m. a thick ‘Bama accent dripping with incredulity, “Is that a pleasure boat I see coming up at me?” I said nothing because, hey, I know I’m crazy.

At 4 am on the VHF, there was a group of chatty barges who spent an hour boasting to each other about the size of their equipment and the prowess of their boats. Then I hear:
“Did y’all see that sailboat? Is he ballsy or just crazy?”
“Crazy!”
“I feel like my nuts are dragging the floor, pushing these barges over all the stumps at the bottom of this river. Wonder how that sailboat feels about it.”

In my girliest Southern drawl I replied, “We got 6 feet of draft on this here sailboat and I never worry myself about balls, gentlemen.”

Total. Silence. For the next 45 minutes.

As luck would have it, we ran out of gas within sight of the Morgan City Public Docks. We should have had plenty of fuel (another 10 gallons), but we were running the engine at a higher rpm, doing more electric things in the cabin than we had on the way out and we don’t have a fuel gauge. (Plus, I think maybe Chet miscounted when he filled up the tank, but I ain’t saying anything.) So we didn’t know we’d run out. All we knew is that the engine died just when we were in a high traffic area. We thought we were fifteen minutes from shore power, firing up the heaters and a well-deserved sleep, but instead we set the sails and started furiously working on the engine. There was no trouble refilling the fuel tanks from the jerry cans, but the engine was air-locked by that time and the Kubota engine manual left out a few key steps when it came to troubleshooting an air-locked engine. We ended up dropping anchor in a nearby cove and calling a towboat. Fortunately, we have the BoatUS towing insurance so they will reimburse us the $1200 in towing fees.

The railroad bridge outside of Morgan City where we ran out of gas. This is the view from the Public Docks.

The railroad bridge outside of Morgan City where we ran out of gas. This is the view from the Public Docks.

When the towboat showed up, Chet once again tried to just yank the anchor up, but with the wind and the current against him, it wasn’t happening. The towboat carefully nudged us a bit, but still a no go until we eventually tried my idea about running the anchor rode to a manual winch and bringing it up that way. Worked great. I’d like to replace our electric windlass with a manual one since the stupid thing never seems to be functional when we need it.

Morgan City is full of really nice people. The Berwick Vehicle Traffic System (VTS) were incredibly helpful making sure we didn’t get mowed down by a barge while we figured out what to do. Then, a gentleman named Pat had been listening to his VHF and heard we were getting towed into the public docks so he drove over in his pickup and helped us tie up. It was very helpful. The next day he dropped by to see how we were getting on and drove Chet over to the marine fuel station with the jerry cans so we could refuel since none of the fuel docks near Morgan City were functioning at that point. I think they made three trips. It was so cold and rainy, we decided to stay an extra day and hope for better weather. As soon as we got off the boat, we stumbled groggily to the closest open restaurant The Latin Corner and even though we walked in right at 2 p.m. When they were closing for lunch, they stayed open to make us lunch and ask me how homeschooling was going.

We asked after Layne, a Cajun shrimper who had cheerfully showed the boys how to fish for catfish and then cleaned and fried it up for them the last time we were through. We were told that he hadn’t been around and that we should steer clear of him as he was ‘a crackhead’ and ‘nothing but trouble.’ All I can say is, even the crackheads are sweethearts and gallant to strangers in Morgan City. Must be nice.

In between bouts of sleet, we managed to hit Sweet & Simple Bakery and snag some of their excellent cupcakes. My favorite is the fudge sundae and Chet liked the lemon blueberry. Sneaky Peter tried the strawberry, which was wildly adventurous for him, but mostly he licked the icing off everybody else’s cupcake when they weren’t looking. We also walked over to the grocery store to reprovision and there was some great steak to be had. I pan fried them with parsley cheddar mashed potatoes and roquefort sauce. Full and happy on a cold weather day.