I promised to fill you in on the title "see you on the ones". Communicating with the barges on the river can be tricky - some just plain don't answer you. Most communicate via channel 13. Todd was approaching a barge, and had asked him, "Hey Captain, what side should I pass you on?". The response was "see you on the ones". One=Port, two=Starboard. Handsome Captain took that to mean the *barge's* port. Nope. It was our port, his starboard, and BOY, did Todd get an earful from that captain. That horrible feeling when you've done something amiss. Why can't we just all get along? I think he's scarred for life, really, and I feel for him. (Todd edits this to say that captain just had a bad day at "ahole school".)
Recall that we are at Harborside Marina, waiting for the "green light" at Dresden locks. What better day to travel than 40 degrees and rain? We love our boat. We really do - but we discovered with this voyage that we lack some "niceties" - such as defrost for the oh-so-handsome captain's windows. Poor Todd had to drive in the 40 degree wet weather with the back "door" open so that the windows would stay clear. And the kids and I? Our horrid job was to stay below with the heat on and NOT open the door to send a blast of steam up to his windows. Even the poor dogs had to stay below because they kept *breathing*.
Remember how when your kids were infants and they ate every two hours? I"m just discovering now that this never really ends. It's like clockwork and I feel like an airline stewardess; "Mom, I'm hungry". The little cretins ate a whole head of celery and like four whole-sized carrots today for snack. Don't they know we're fighting scurvy? Not really - but fresh veggies like carrots and celery are the non-negotiable bases for every soup. <Sigh> At least they love their veggies. The sound of the overhead bins in the boat and the reaching up and bending down makes me feel like maybe I missed my calling and should have gone to stewardess school. (except I'd fail because I'm pretty sure they are no longer called stewardesses).
I'm recalling that there were two or more locks that we had to go through in that rain. That meant I had to put on my West Marine rain coveralls (sort of super cute in boater-land), my running gloves, hat and life jacket and go up on the bow and hold onto the wet soggy ropes and not shiver too much as to mess things up. It truly seemed like the rain would hold back and give us its all when we arrived at a lock. That's not just me talking - everyone in the flotilla agreed. Handsome captain couldn't find his all-weather gear; so he was soaked to the bone in 40 degree weather.
It's fall, pretty close to Halloween. Imagine a cemetery at night versus a cemetery during the day. Neither's quite appetizing, right? Welcome to the "wall" at Henry. It's raining, it's blowing and DARK. Every guide book and facebook post says "do NOT navigate the rivers at night" - recall there are logs floating everywhere. There are barges - barges aren't "nimble". We arrive at Henry and it's dark and raining. Henry is a rock wall. A sharp-edged rock wall that is in a very small canal (surrounded by rocks). Did I mention that it's raining and dark? I'm not feeling very helpful when I come up from my warm below-deck stewardess-land of snacks and wet-dog smell and say "what the hell???!?!? why didn't we stop earlier than this?". Todd can't do much but agree with me but we are part of this "flotilla" brethren - so he navigates like a pro, and with the help of the other two boats we manage to tie off to the sharp pointy-edged rocks and what?!?! there's even power here? Yessssssssss. If it weren't raining, 40 degrees, windy and dark, I'd jump ashore, kiss the ground and sigh "lannnnnnddddd". But please don't interrupt me while I'm looking for the wine opener.
The kiddos are really doing great - they are adjusting to life "below" with the occasional "yard time" like prisoners when we all go ashore and stretch our legs. Let me tell you this; it was a hard decision to go ashore versus staying warm and dry on this night. The social animals in us won out and we dressed the kiddos in boots, rain coats, etc. and, aided by our flashlights, safety-chained them ashore where we walked through puddles and uneven terrain to arrive at a.....bar. I think the bartender was pulling one over on us when she informed us that "Well, I just turned off the fryer, but for you....". I don't mean to sound cynical, but two minutes later she served another patron a basket of deep-fried pickles, AND we also know that many places along this river survive on looper revenue. Regardless, we ordered loads of french fries, chicken tenders and chicken wings and chatted with the other boaters as the children got their wiggles out running around the bar and playing pool on the bar-sized red-felted pool table. I gave them a dollar in quarters just to prolong their happiness (since when did bar pool tables cost a whole dollar? I thought they were still just $0.50. - but let's not show my age). God bless them, those kids had "the best night ever!".
In the morning we surveyed our surroundings and....yep, it still looks really treacherous even in the daytime. But we managed to shove off and head downriver through another lock and on our way to Peoria, IL.
we had to sneak into the lock around this bollard while a huge barge pushed through.
everyone trying to stay warm and dry...
sunshine!!!
they still exist!!
Recall that we are at Harborside Marina, waiting for the "green light" at Dresden locks. What better day to travel than 40 degrees and rain? We love our boat. We really do - but we discovered with this voyage that we lack some "niceties" - such as defrost for the oh-so-handsome captain's windows. Poor Todd had to drive in the 40 degree wet weather with the back "door" open so that the windows would stay clear. And the kids and I? Our horrid job was to stay below with the heat on and NOT open the door to send a blast of steam up to his windows. Even the poor dogs had to stay below because they kept *breathing*.
Remember how when your kids were infants and they ate every two hours? I"m just discovering now that this never really ends. It's like clockwork and I feel like an airline stewardess; "Mom, I'm hungry". The little cretins ate a whole head of celery and like four whole-sized carrots today for snack. Don't they know we're fighting scurvy? Not really - but fresh veggies like carrots and celery are the non-negotiable bases for every soup. <Sigh> At least they love their veggies. The sound of the overhead bins in the boat and the reaching up and bending down makes me feel like maybe I missed my calling and should have gone to stewardess school. (except I'd fail because I'm pretty sure they are no longer called stewardesses).
I'm recalling that there were two or more locks that we had to go through in that rain. That meant I had to put on my West Marine rain coveralls (sort of super cute in boater-land), my running gloves, hat and life jacket and go up on the bow and hold onto the wet soggy ropes and not shiver too much as to mess things up. It truly seemed like the rain would hold back and give us its all when we arrived at a lock. That's not just me talking - everyone in the flotilla agreed. Handsome captain couldn't find his all-weather gear; so he was soaked to the bone in 40 degree weather.
It's fall, pretty close to Halloween. Imagine a cemetery at night versus a cemetery during the day. Neither's quite appetizing, right? Welcome to the "wall" at Henry. It's raining, it's blowing and DARK. Every guide book and facebook post says "do NOT navigate the rivers at night" - recall there are logs floating everywhere. There are barges - barges aren't "nimble". We arrive at Henry and it's dark and raining. Henry is a rock wall. A sharp-edged rock wall that is in a very small canal (surrounded by rocks). Did I mention that it's raining and dark? I'm not feeling very helpful when I come up from my warm below-deck stewardess-land of snacks and wet-dog smell and say "what the hell???!?!? why didn't we stop earlier than this?". Todd can't do much but agree with me but we are part of this "flotilla" brethren - so he navigates like a pro, and with the help of the other two boats we manage to tie off to the sharp pointy-edged rocks and what?!?! there's even power here? Yessssssssss. If it weren't raining, 40 degrees, windy and dark, I'd jump ashore, kiss the ground and sigh "lannnnnnddddd". But please don't interrupt me while I'm looking for the wine opener.
The kiddos are really doing great - they are adjusting to life "below" with the occasional "yard time" like prisoners when we all go ashore and stretch our legs. Let me tell you this; it was a hard decision to go ashore versus staying warm and dry on this night. The social animals in us won out and we dressed the kiddos in boots, rain coats, etc. and, aided by our flashlights, safety-chained them ashore where we walked through puddles and uneven terrain to arrive at a.....bar. I think the bartender was pulling one over on us when she informed us that "Well, I just turned off the fryer, but for you....". I don't mean to sound cynical, but two minutes later she served another patron a basket of deep-fried pickles, AND we also know that many places along this river survive on looper revenue. Regardless, we ordered loads of french fries, chicken tenders and chicken wings and chatted with the other boaters as the children got their wiggles out running around the bar and playing pool on the bar-sized red-felted pool table. I gave them a dollar in quarters just to prolong their happiness (since when did bar pool tables cost a whole dollar? I thought they were still just $0.50. - but let's not show my age). God bless them, those kids had "the best night ever!".
In the morning we surveyed our surroundings and....yep, it still looks really treacherous even in the daytime. But we managed to shove off and head downriver through another lock and on our way to Peoria, IL.
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