Burgee: 1. a swallow-tailed flag used especially by ships for signals or identification. 2. the usually triangular identifying flag of a yacht club.
There are three Great Loop burgees awarded to Loopers by the American Great Loop Cruisers’ Association: White for the newbies, doing the Loop for the first time; Gold for those who have completed the Great Loop; and Platinum for Loopers who have completed the Great Loop two or more times!
When Finito retired the white burgee, and Ed and I put the gold burgee on, Ed looked right at me. I knew what he was thinking…
“Again?”
It’s tempting!
Gold burgee
Ed and I loved just about every minute of the Great Loop including a year and thousands of miles of difficult challenges.
The feeling after completion is hard to put into words. The journey was a like a reset button for everything that’s important, and a great way to get closer to one’s spouse. In fact, now that we have been home for a week, we find ourselves missing the closeness and simplicity of living on a boat.
I’ve been asked what my favorite part of the trip was. I can truly say all of it. Even when I thought Ed might throw me overboard or fire me as First Mate.
One of the very best experiences, came at the end when we crossed the Gulf of Mexico/America. The winds had been high but they had settled so there was a short window to cross. I was nervous about traveling at night, so we journeyed with two other trawlers: Happy Giraffe and Satellite Office. We were a pack.
Ed captaining at night
The trip took 24 hours leaving from Port St. Joe and arriving in Tarpon Springs. We didn’t want to pull into Tarpon Springs until sunrise so we could see the many crab traps that could get tangled in the engines. Night fell and the hours droned on. The moon was to rise at 4 am. I brought Ed coffee and sat with our cat, Okee, as the waves rocked the craft. I captained when Ed needed rest or a break. We ate little. Around 2am I left the pilot house and peeked outside. I could not see my hand in front of me. The air was cool, and the stars were everywhere. Not just up above, but thick from horizon to horizon. It was incredible. Never had I seen so many stars. I walked out into the darkness.
I thought about all of the experiences I’d had on the Loop, and everything that Ed and I had shared and learned together. I thought about our county and the history I had lived up close. I thought about all of the waters, lakes, and rivers. I thought about Okee who had traveled almost 6000 miles, and about Luna, our beloved Belgium Shepard, who passed away on Finito when we were on Lake Michigan. I thought about what it might be like once Ed and I were home. I promised myself I would be more appreciative of all things and that I would never forget this night under the Heavens, and that I would remember that every night there are this many stars…
So now we are home, and in the evenings, I keep looking at the sky with full knowledge of the beauty that exists, but that I just can’t see…
Unless, of course.
Again? 🙂
Sunrise as we approached Tarpon SpringsOkee was a real sport!Finito at the Harborage upon returning to Stuart. “Crossing our wake!”‘ 3-7-25 Photo credit Darrell Brand.
In Pensacola, Ed and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary!
America’s Great Loop is coming to an end and it has been no “bed of roses.” It is work. Fun work, leaving one grounded. Ed and I know this has been the trip of a lifetime!
Tomorrow a window of “good” weather has opened and Finito will make a 210 mile 24 hour trip across the Gulf of Mexico/America from Port St. Joe to Tarpon Springs. Seas should be between 1-3 feet with winds averaging 11 mph. We take this path as our draft is too deep to go along Big Bend’s shoreline. I am somewhat nervous about traveling over night, but many Loopers have accomplished this and we will be aside two other trawlers: Happy Giraffe and Satellite Office. Many hours of waiting and planning have gotten us to this day…the true test of a Captian and his first mate!
Path of 24 hour trip from Port St. Joe to Tarpon SpringsP.c. and Judi Wu with Ed and I Pensacola’s Fish House.Great Blue Heron on Finito
Visiting the Florida Panhandle at the end of our 6000 mile journey has been great.
In Pensacola Ed and I met with P.c. Wu, whom I came to know as a University of West Florida professor and Pensacola city councilman of sixteen years. We bonded when I was serving on the Florida League of Cities during my days as a Sewall’s Point mayor/commissioner and chair of the League’s Environmental Committee. P.c. is one of the most wonderful of people and it was fantastic to reconnect.
P.c. and his wife Judi gave Ed and I a tour of downtown Pensacola. Much had changed since I taught there in the 1990s getting my Master’s degree in Education at the University of West Florida after many hours of grading homework.
P.c.’s tour revealed changes and improvements brought on with his direction. The Main Street Wastewater Treatment Plant was moved in 2010. The new facility is considered to be the largest public works project in Escambia County’s history thus avoiding discharge into Pensacola Bay; creating reclaimed water reuse, and locating the plant outside of the coastal floodplain. Great work Pensacola!
Two teenagers fish at sunset in Pensacola Bay.
The following day, Ed and I retraced my former life visiting Pensacola High School where I first taught German and English; my neighborhoods of East Hill along Bayou Texar and Pensacola Beach’s Via de Luna; and Seville Square where I found my beloved dog Dash. Ed and I walked the white sand dune beaches of Fort Pickens and the Gulf Island National Seashore. Of course Ed’s favorite was visiting the famous Naval Aviation Museum!
Pensacola High SchoolOld photo my mother sent me of us on Pensacola Beach with Dash c. 1993.It was a full day at the Naval Aviation Museum!Ft. Pickens along the GulfEd sitting by the dunes, Gulf Island Nat’l Seashore.
Finito moved on…
Fifty miles east along the panhandle, we stayed at Sun Harbor Marina in Panama City. In this area beautiful St. Andrew’s Bay stretches out for miles. I could not help but think about what it must have been like when Hurricane Michael, a horrific 2018 category 5 hurricane, barreled through this area. They are just recovering.
Bay County, where Panama City resides, has given some powerful punches itself. The Panama City courthouse is the site of the landmark “Gideon case” from which the public defender system for the entire United States was established by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1963.
Bay County Court HouseGiddeon v. Wainwright for which the public defender system was established.
About fifty miles east of Panama City with the help of a man-made canal, Finito took us to Port St. Joe Marina, another business in the panhandle still recovering from Hurricane Michael.
The fishing village of St. Joe once surrounded by longleaf pines was for decades the site of the St. Joe Company paper mill. This industry dominated until 1999 when it was literally dismantled. Today many “Joe” landholdings are being developed. It was a controversial closure as so many worked in the mill, but now with no air pollution and that ever pervasive “smell” the region is ripe for a quaint and profitable tourist industry.
Nature still abounds. When I walked down to the shoreline to see the lighthouse, I came upon a stately an American Eagle. And when Ed and I visited the Historic Graveyard we came upon a few rare, cone bearing long-leaf pine. Lots of remaining natural beauty here!
Historic rebuilt lighthouse, PSJAmerican Eagle, Port St. JoeEd reads along the shoreline.Long leaf pine tree in St. Joe’s Historic Graveyard.Historic sign
Ed loved the Naval Museum, but for me the highlight of the panhandle was Constitution Museum State Park. In 1838 Florida’s first constitution was drafted by 56 territorial delegates in the once bustling town of St. Joseph, now known as Saint Joe. With an appointment from Senate President Joe Negron, I served on Florida’s Constitution Commission in 2017-2018 so this was a real treat. To think of how much has changed!
Robert Raymond Reid, William P. Duval,Thomas Baltzell and David Yulee Levy on stage.
I have loved our Great Loop panhandle experience. The region is one of the oldest in Florida’s long history and natural beauty continues to grace much of its shoreline. Although Ed and I are getting to the end of our Great Loop journey, to the panhandle we shall return.
So good night. Please wish us well on our journey across the Gulf. Ed and I look forward to “crossing our wake” in Stuart soon!
Sunning on the beaches of Fort Morgan, I feel my body coming back to life. Oil tankers slowly pass by as migratory birds dance along the water’s edge. Life is good today in Alabama.
Such a wonderful word! I find myself thinking about it all the time.
Since continuing our 6000 mile American Great Loop adventure, Ed and I have gone through two significant snowstorms. Once on January 12 in Iuka, Mississippi, and again on January 21 in Mobile, Alabama.
Finito most recently traveled the lower western green line – the Tenn-Tom – connecting the Tennessee and Tombigbee rivers to the Mobile River in Alabama.
We were in such a hurry leaving Kingfisher at Demopolis, where the Tombigbee River leads into the Mobile River, we forgot to fill Finito up with water. Six days later, we arrived in Mobile Bay to fierce winds, closing marinas, and shut-off water lines due to the coming freeze.
Wind before snow
Finito’s water reserves were so low Ed wouldn’t allow me use water from the sink to boil spaghetti for dinner. We ended up putting snow in buckets to “make” water.
As the storm enveloped us I was surprised to see common loons, cormorants, coots, gulls, and both white and brown pelicans diving and hunting for fish. It was snowing and 15 degrees. I watched in awe, wondering how they could stay warm; I told our cat, Okee, she was lucky she was not a bird.
Multiple Common loons in winter plumage hunting in Dog River, Mobile Bay.Snowstorm 7″ Grand Mariner Marina, Dog River, Mobile Bay. January 21, 2025.
~Below Ed filling buckets of snow to melt for water.
Okee keeping warm in her box.
After a few days, the weather warmed to 35 degrees and marinas reopened. Ed and I motored across Mobile Bay to Fairhope, a precious town where entertainer Jimmy Buffet lived in his youth. The late musician often said that his experiences on Alabama’s Gulf Coast influenced his music. My late father loved Jimmy Buffet and my mind was flooded with childhood memories of singing “Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude” out loud while driving with my dad in car warmed by Florida sunshine.
In 1894, Fairhope was founded as a utopian “Single-Tax” district; they pooled their funds to purchase land. The structure has evolved, but Fairhope continues to have a sense of community and land protections, something you don’t see everywhere around here. Large oak trees and winding roads lead to this fair city.
At Fairhope Docks we watched stunning sunsets alongside pine forests, high bluffs, and a colony of brown pelicans that our tour guide, Bob, told us were descendants of just one pair from Louisiana reared on nearby Gaillard Island.
“Mobile Bay was so industrially polluted and DDT had compromised all the birds. In the 1970s a program was started and was a success. Every brown pelican you see today on these waters is a decendent of the Gaillard pair.”
When we arrived these pelicans were sunning on a rock jetty still full of snow. Every day they flew low over the waters of the marina and then out into Mobile Bay. The freeze caused a massive fish kill and mullet floated down the bay as far as the eye could see. Nonetheless, the pelicans flew high into the air diving for live food.
By January 27 Ed and I were on the Gulf Intercostal Waterway docked at The Warf in Orange Beach, Alabama. The Warf is the new beachside Alabama, very built up – lots of high-rises. We learned this morning that the forest of slash pine trees I’ve been admiring across the way is on schedule to be replaced with a Margaritaville Resort.
Finito a 55 Fleming with a beautiful view of a pine forest soon to be Margaretaville across from The Warf.The Warf, Orange Beach, AL
“Yeah, anything they can do to destroy nature…” said a young man fixing our boat. I wondered what Jimmy Buffet would think about it all…
Presently, Ed and I are waiting for Finito’s radar system to be repaired so we can make a safe 18 hour overnight passage across the Gulf of Mexico. We’ll shoot for Tarpon Springs and then make our way back along Florida’s west coast and across Lake Okeechobee to Stuart. Anything could happen, but it certainly shouldn’t snow!
For me, the most educational Mobile Bay side trip has been Africatown three miles north of the port city of Mobile alongside the Mobile River.
In 1860, the last U.S. slave ship, the Clotilda, brought 110 West Africans illegally into Mobile Bay. After the end of the Civil War in 1865 survivors pooled their earnings to purchase land and build “Africatown” apparently naming it such because they wanted a return to Africa. Although they never did return, they prevailed. Africatown was very successful with self constructed, well made homes and overflowing gardens. The remarkable determination of its community and its growth over time is inspiring.
Of course times were very difficult. Not only did they deal with slavery and its aftermath, Timothy Meaher, who organized their voyage and owned most of the surrounding acerage sold the waterfront lands that abutted their community to U.S. Paper Corporation and other seriously polluting industries. They may have gotten jobs but according to my conversations many also got cancer. They also lost access to the waters of Mobile Bay. Generations of children never saw the shoreline and the wildlife moved away.
Then something wonderful happened, Africatown leaders had a vision “aimed at reconnecting their community to the water.” They sung: “Take me to the River” and a BLUEWAY along Three Mile Creek, the Mobile River, and Chickasaw Creek was created. All these area are being cleaned up and signage erected telling the Africatown story. This Blueway can be accessed by canoe or kayak.
AFRICATOWN BLUEWAY just north of Mobile Bay. Credit: Mobile Bay WaterkeeperMobile, AL
In 2019 the Clotilda slave ship was unearthed at nearby Twelve Mile Island -that Ed and I passed on Finito.- Its remains have been studied by archeologists and others from all over the world. Zora Neale Hurston’s book Baracoon, The Story of the Last Black Cargo is based on interviews with beloved Cudjoe Lewis “the last survivor,” who was nineteen when he was captured and brought to Mobile Bay. He became a leader of the community, and sexton of the Union Missionary Baptist Church founded by the former slaves.
Credit: Wikipedia
Hurston’s book, although completed in 1931, was not printed until 2018, eighty-seven years later. Interestingly, Hurston, one of the most famous African American authors of all time, died at 69 years old in Stuart’s neighboring community of Fort Pierce, Florida.
It was a moving experience to visit the museum and meet the people of Africatown. It’s been a wonderful experience to learn about Mobile, Alabama. So I have been cold and I have been warmed — by the waters and the stories of Mobile Bay.
The Great Loop’s Mississippi/Alabama string of locks along the “Tennessee -Tombigbee” Waterway has been a challenge. The journey is beautiful, but very remote and requires frequent anchoring out. More than anything the cold weather has kept us on our toes. Even Okee is wearing a scarf. She seems slightly irritated. Even so, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.
Locks & Dams on “Tenn-Tom Waterway”:
Tenn-Tom Waterway. Corinth is just west of where we began our trip near Iuka, MS.Finito
Today we completed our eleventh lock, at Demopolis, Alabama. We got lucky leaving this morning as there were two tugs behind us and one in front of us.
The lands of this stoic waterway must have many stories: of native peoples and runaway slaves, of early explorations of Hernando de DeSoto, and of the many people, plantations, and animals that have called this region home. Today it is a commercial and pleasure boat thoroughfare.
Barge and tugboat on the Tenn-Tom Waterway.
The locks and dams of the Tenn-Tom Waterway connecting the Tennessee and Tombigbee rivers began in the 1930s and were completed in 1984. It must be pointed out, this is no straight canal cut, but rather connections of waterbodies and there remain hairpin curves and winding channels.
The region is remote and that’s its power. White pelicans, cormorants, king fishers, coots, American Egrets and Great Blue Herons are everywhere. A conversation with one of the lock masters gave details of duck hunting regulations and the types in the area today: blue teal specifically from Saskatchewan as well as wood ducks and mallards from the north.
Even in the locks themselves there are gulls and wading birds looking for fish.
Gulls wait their turn to compete for a fishLocks can be an opportunity for teamwork
At the end of a day, after one of the locks, Ed pulled Finito into a cut-off canal.
It was at this point knowing we would be here for the night that all of this wilderness got to me. “Is this really where we are overnighting Ed? Will we be safe out here? We’re absolutely in the middle of nowhere. Did you bring a gun?”
Ed looked straight at me, saying nothing.
“Aren’t you nervous with no-one for miles around?” I inquired.
Ed ignored me taking out his drone. I watched him waiting for him to answer me.
Crash!
“This will teach him, I thought.” Out in the middle of nowhere and no way to get that drone out of these trees!
Right about then a boat jetted around the bin. Ed waved it over and the two young duck hunters agreed to give Ed a ride into the woods. Practiced duck hunters, they helped retrieve the drone. Ed came back full of thorns.
It was a beautiful night and the stars were bright against a velvet sky. We could even see the Milky Way. We searched for the North Star and reminisced about Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts as we pointed out Orion and the Big Dipper. A blue heron squawked eerily as it flew overhead. It was otherworldly-romantic, but the night was cold and the morning even colder.
Duck hunters helped Ed find his lost drone that crashed into the woods.
Ed’s crash drone video:
It hasn’t all been wilderness. We stayed at Columbus Marina in Columbus, Mississippi, just before crossing over from Mississippi into Alabama. It was fascinating. First, upon calling my mother, I learned that my father’s first cousin taught at the university here and that my parents had once visited him and his family. My younger siblings Jenny and Todd came too. I was at University of Florida.
Ironically there is a “Thurlow Drive” here named after this family.
Columbus has an amazing Deep South history; a hospital town during the Civil War, it was not burned as were so many. Tending to of both Confederate and Union soldiers especially from the Battle of Shiloh I talked about in my previous post. Union and Confederate burials at Friendship Cemetery was the site of America’s first “Decoration Day” in 1866 inspiring Francis Miles Finch’ famous poem “The Blue and the Gray” and is considered the inspiration for Memorial Day.
By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the one, the Blue,
Under the other, the Gray.
These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Under the laurel, the Blue,
Under the willow, the Gray.
From the silence of sorrowful hours
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers
Alike for the friend and the foe:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Under the roses, the Blue,
Under the lilies, the Gray.
So, with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Broidered with gold, the Blue,
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.
So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Wet with the rain, the Blue,
Wet with the rain, the Gray.
Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done,
In the storm of the years that are fading
No braver battle was won:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Under the blossoms, the Blue,
Under the garlands, the Gray.
No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
The banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead!
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Love and tears for the Blue,
Tears and love for the Gray.
~FMF
Famous writing continues….
Playwright Tennessee Williams, a Columbus native wrote : “The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.”
Columbus’ many antebellum homes stand today because of those violets.
The city holds an annual “Pilgrimage” and opens their antebellum homes for public viewing. In recent years, students have added their interpretations some from the perspective of slaves.
In Columbus churches were everywhere! Apparently, the many historic and beautiful churches also give tours and recently have added a synagogue.
Historic Baptist Church
I had been making dinner on the boat every night, but in Columbus Ed said although he appreciated my cooking, he wanted a steak. Huck’s Place in downtown was perfect!
Cooking is an art if your’e artistic!
As we approach our final lock in Coffeeville, the National Weather Service has put out a “Extreme Cold Watch,” and the Dog River Marina, in Mobile, where we will arrive in a few days, has let us know no water will be available as water lines will be shut off, due to “the coming freeze.”
Cold, cold, cold….
Passing by the remarkable White Cliffs of Epps near Demopolis I was reminded not to worry about freezes or other stressful things, but to make the best of it, because time is just ticking, ticking away…
Lock Life!
One of many wonders of the trip: The White Cliffs of Epps reveal 1.4 million years.Blue heron sitting on a lock. Sitting down the way were 22 American Egrets!
After nine days of snow and freezing weather, Finito is finally underway to the Tennessee -Tombigbee Waterway on America’s Great Loop. This morning, leaving from Counce, Mississippi was tolerably cold even though the lines were frozen and I held on with every step for fear of slipping.
Frost covered the trawler from bow to stern.
Captain Ed was certain the weather would be warming up and he was right. By noon it was close to 40 degrees. The sun was shining as we entered the beginning of the 234 mile “Tenn-Tom” Waterway. The starboard side of the canal appeared brown and golden, while the port side remained white with snow. A testament to the power of sunshine.
Tenn-Tom Waterway’s Yellow Creek
Remarkably enough, we saw gulls diving, great blue herons flying, and a group of gigantic white pelicans sitting on a sandbar!
White pelicans
As I hold an important position as first-mate, my Captain asked me if I rather continue on another 32 miles through three locks and get to a warm marina or anchor out.
I replied that since it was such a splendid day, perhaps we should go through the three locks while the weather was good. My Captian considered the recommendation, but convinced me we needed practice anchoring out, plus we would be “fresh” going through the locks the next morning.
“It’s so hard to go through locks on a windy day in this boat.” I complained. “Today would be easy. No wind.”
Captain Ed held his breath and gave me “the look.”
We motored around an arm of the waterway just before the John Whitten Lock and Dam. I kept looking at the depth finder. We were expecting to find an anchorage site at 15 feet, but the shallowest we found was around 26.
“Are we really going to anchor at 26 feet?” I nervously inquired. Ed did not answer which meant “yes.”
It was decided that I would run the boat and Captian Ed would drop the anchor since more than likely the chain was half frozen. Ed untied the rope and turned the wheel. The anchor moaned as it cracked and crashed into the water; I called out how many feet corresponded to each painted chain color.
“Red! 25 feet!
“Yellow! 50!
“White! 75!”
Orange! 100 feet!”
Ed gave me the hand signal like he was directing traffic: “stop.” Things were going too well. I suspected trouble….
I left my post to retrieve the throw line just in case Ed fell in. This was the part where he would lean down and hang over the edge to connect a trip line or some contraption. “At least we are close to a shoreline,” I thought. “He never thinks he will fall in.”
After some time, it was decided the anchor was holding so we went into the salon. Okee had calmly sat through the whole thing. She is without a doubt my therapy cat.
Okee wearing Luna’s Finito scarf
It was a beautiful sunny, cold day. Ed and I did the most fun thing one can do while anchoring out: nothing!
We ate dinner at 4pm. The sun went down and the moon came up. So magical. What a good idea to anchor out! Tomorrow, the locks…
Pickwick Lake is bordered by Mississippi, Alabama and Tennessee. It is a reservoir created by Pickwick Landing Dam built in the 1930s as part of President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal to overcome poverty and the Great Depression. This is the land of electricity by water and the Tennessee Valley Authority.
All along the Great Loop and of course at home, Nature has been radically altered by humankind.
Ed and I are preparing to complete American’s Great Loop. Last year, after Ed’s retirement, we finished 5000 miles on our trawler, Finito, and have 1000 more to go before “crossing our wake” in Stuart, Florida.
In the coming days we must begin our journey down the 234 mile artificial Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway from the area around Iuka, Mississippi to Demopolis, Alabama. The first lock drops 84 feet, the remaining nine about 30, and then there are two more locks before we arrive at Mobile, Alabama. As fist mate I will be outside handling the lines.
It will be cold!
The Tenn-Tom connects the Tennessee and Tombigbee/Black Water Rivers.
How did Ed and I meet up with Father Winter rather than staying ahead of him? Well, I told Ed that if we halted our journey on the Loop and went home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and especially were there for my mother and my book launch of A Pictorial History of Palm City, Florida, I would accompany him down the “Tenn-Tom” even in winter. So here I am at Aqua Marina in Counce, Mississippi in January!
We have been here for seven days. It has been so cold we decided to wait for things to warm up. That was not in Mother Nature’s cards, last night it snowed!
It has been a challenge keeping warm and dealing with cold boat related mishaps like a busted water line, a coolant leak, and heater issues but we are good. We are learning. We are a team.
I feel quite happy. It is so beautiful. Outside looks like an Andrew Wyeth painting.
A snowy view across Pickwick Lake.
Believe it or not, there are two Great Blue Herons flying around, a raft of American coots swimming around, and a small blackish-brown song bird that landed on Finito today. Gulls are also flying about and every once in a while a hear the honk of my friends the Canadian Geese!
Okee has a full fur coat so she is fine, always keeping me company. She does miss Luna…
Okee
Being “stuck” in this area has been reflective and educational. The Battle of Shiloh and the siege of Corinth were major battles of the American Civil War that occurred just a few miles from where we are docked. Shiloh battlefield tours take you to the sites of these epic struggles.
It is hard to imagine all that has occurred right here in this little town including the Trail of Tears in the 1830s about thirty years before the Civil War.
In 1820 the Nashville gazette reported that the Muskogee Creeks traveled through lands that are today Corinth, MS. Memorial, The Trail of Tears.
I am sure there will be more reminders of our country’s difficult past along the way- not to mention turning on the television. But today, I am thankful for the newness and promise of the snow.
Wishing you and your family well and I will be writing if my hands aren’t too frozen.
Ed and I in the locks, one of over 100 along America’s Great Loop.
If there is a calling one must always answer to, it is the calling of one’s mother… 🙂
Ed and I are taking a temporary break from our Great Loop adventure to be home for Thanksgiving and for the November 21st book launch of “A Pictorial History of Palm City, Florida,” a book created by my mother and me.
To my blog readers, I apologize that I have not written since September 11th. Believe it or not, I went incognito by choice. Some of my old enemies were after me…
So now, I’m back, and trying to share where I have been and all that I have seen is impossible. All I can say is that I am more than the person I was when I left. There are so many stories to tell; and so many rivers in need. I will be telling these stories…
Painted Rock, Tennessee River
On a funny note, my husband Ed now has hair longer than mine!
Making sure Ed’s hair is right…
But seriously, I feel that in the past months I feel I have experienced the soul of our country.
And everything, in every place, began along a river. Water is one thing we all have in common and one thing that every one of us needs.
Map of America’s Great Loop. Going counter-clockwise from Stuart, FL to Iuka, Mississippi. Red and black is what has been traveled thus far with rough list of towns, cities, and some anchorages below.
Finito at Joe Wheeler State Park, AL. Great Loop Rendezvous 2024.
Well, I am very glad to be home. I will be settling in and writing more soon. I do hope you can join the book launch!
Invitation, Book Launch, November 21st. Everyone is invited!
~Lake Michigan is 307 miles long, up to 118 miles wide, and up to 923 feet deep!
Finito approaching Chicago at the southwestern end of Lake Michigan.
There is only one thing more fun than boating the 6000 miles of America’s Great Loop – having friends and family visit along the way! We are now on day 166 and Ed and I have been fortunate to have the our dear friends the Kuhnes, the Joneses, and the Flaughs visit Finito at different point along the hundreds of miles of Lake Michigan. So much fun!
Lake Michigan is an incredible body of fresh water, like an ocean. There were days when we had to stay in harbor because the waves were as high as ten feet! Many ships have gone down in Lake Michigan. You might recall Gordon Lightfoot’s 1976 ballad “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.”
This huge great lake has had its ups and downs with water quality and right now she is probably as close to beautiful as she has ever appeared in modern times, but her beauty is only skin deep. Before I share photos of our friends and family, let me explain…
After Finito perilously made it through the Big Chute in Ontario, she soon entered the waters of Georgian Bay/Lake Huron and Lake Michigan. These two lakes are actually considered to be one connected by the Straights of Mackinac. In the 1600s the Native people led the first Frenchmen fur traders through these gigantic fresh waters and the portage of Chicago to the Mississippi River. At that time people were overwhelmed and overjoyed by the plethora of herring, trout, sturgeon, perch and whitefish swimming along a rocky sand bottom of Lake Michigan. These fish had been isolated from the oceans for thousands of years as the great lakes were formed by the expansion and contraction of glaciers.
Today these beautiful glacial waters are different – mostly because of two invasive species of mussels: zebra and quagga. Both originated in the Caspian Sea but quagga can adhere much deeper and now make up most of the mass of mussels in the lake.
Zebra mussels can grow up to 40 feet but quagga mussels can grow to 540 feet deep.
According to author Dan Egan’s, The Death and Life of the Great Lakes, since these invasive species entered – by way of ship ballast because Lake Michigan was opened up to the ocean by locks of the St. Lawrence Seaway in 1959- the lake and all great lakes are greatly changed.
Today it is invasive mussels, not fish, that stretch from shore to shore, trillions of mussels, and they can filter all of Lake Michigan in about two weeks sucking out all the life that is the base of the food web. This has led to Lake Michigan’s waters becoming some of the clearest in the world. Clear but lacking in the building blocks of life.
Beautiful Lake Michigan sand dunes and clear water, Frankfort-mid lake.
Ed in Harbor Springs, north Lake Michigan.
Even though these water are stunning, “this gin clear water is not a sign of a healthy lake, it the sign of a lake in which thebottom of the food web is collapsing.” The dive in plankton (eaten by the mussels and about 90% down) is linked to a dive in fish populations but an over abundance in submerged aquatic vegetation (sunlight now reaches much further down).
Nonetheless, since the 1970s the lake has been stocked with salmon and trout and due to an invasive fish, the alewife’s numbers recently going down, many of the native fish species numbers are now going up. So the fishing news is not all bad. There are fish, just not as many of them.
When we were with the Joneses, Ed and I saw hundreds of fishermen bringing in hundreds of salmon and it was quite a sight. The salmon migrate up rivers running into Lake Michigan to spawn. In the 1970s the salmon were put in the lake to eat the invasive alewifes and they did…this created a sportsman’s haven.
Chinook salmon caught by locals in Lake Michigan.
Salmon fishermen in the channel by a river in Frankfort.
FRIENDS
Fire sky Lake Michigan sunset- southern rim.Scott and Linda Kuhns, Lake Walloon not far from Bay Harbor on Lake Michigan.
Friends, Scott and Linda Kuhns were the first to visit us. Ed has known them since his days at University of Florida. We were in the northern part of Lake Michigan when they visited near Harbor Springs. We saw Walloon Lake, a beautiful inland lake, where Ernest Hemingway’s family had a cottage when he was a boy. Hemingway credited this lake for giving him a love of the outdoors. Really interesting!
With the Joanne Zarro and Drew Jones on Lake Charlevoix inland of Lake Michigan.
Joanne Zarro and Drew Jones were our second guests and what a great time it was! We had one rough ride in Lake Michigan form Charlevoix to Leland where all the food fell out of the refrigerator and I screamed as a rouge wave hit us stern side – but other than that, it was smooth sailing. We looked for Northern Lights at midnight and saw the beautiful Michigan sand dunes towering above the shoreline and talked late into the night.
My sister Jenny Flaugh and her husband Mike, atop the John Hancock Building – looking out to Lake Michigan.
When we were in Chicago, My sister Jenny and her husband Mike visited Finito. Ed loved seeing his brother and sister in laws! The Flaughs are an absolute blast and we really made the best of the city. We took a boat architectural tour, visited Second City, the John Hancock building, and Manny’s Deli. Jenny even saved a goose with a broken wing by sharing its location – it was along the walkway of the lake- and by finding the right animal rescue. They texted Jenny back saying “We got your goose!” 🙂 We were so happy!
Jenny saved this Canada Goose with a broken wing. Thank you Jenny! It was located and taken to a rescue center where its wing will be fixed and it may become an educational bird.
It was wonderful to have friends and family visit. Okee loved the company too. And with every visit we heard: “The water is so clear! So beautiful!”
Rather than explain everything I just wrote in this blog post, I would simply state “its the mussels….”
I have learned that while entertaining on distant waters it’s better not to explain too much of what’s going on below the surface. This just might ruin a great vacation. Our heads are already full of the issues of the St. Lucie River – Indian River Lagoon!
After leaving Stuart, Ed and I have been traveling America’s Great Loop for the last 154 days. Usually a happy journey, about two weeks ago the tide turned when we lost our beloved Belgium Shepard, Luna. Although she was twelve years old and we knew her passing was a possibility, we were not prepared. It was a normal day, then she collapsed, and passed within 2 hours.
Luna was rescued at Pet Smart in Jensen Beach, Florida in 2015. Within 2 hours of meeting her she was riding home with us. Adopting her has been the only decision of our marriage made without speaking. It was love at first sight for both Ed and me. Luna was a wonderful, integral family member and bigger than life. She taught us many things, but most importantly, the meaning of a deeper loyalty.
We met her and in 2 hours she was part of our family. It also only took 2 hours to lose her.
Ed and I are 126 days into America’s 6000 mile Great Loop. Since I last wrote we have gone from Big Chute to Midland; Midland to Parry Sound; Perry Sound to Britt; Britt to Killarney; Killarney to Baie Fine; Baie Fine to Drummond Island; Drummond Island to Mackinac Island; Mackinac Island to Mackinaw City; and Mackinaw City to Beaver Island. At Drummond Island, Michigan, we went through Customs and re-entered the United States.
There is so much to share especially about Bain Fine, a freshwater fjord off of Georgian Bay, part of Lake Huron, where hometown hero Frances Langford and husband Ralph Evinrude brought their yacht the Chanticleer. In fact, since the Great Chute, I feel like I’m a movie star experiencing a “Great Rest.” But today, I am not going to write about rest, but rather the stress and incredible experience of taking Finito through the Big Chute.
The Big Chute is second from the end of the 45 locks system of the historic Trent-Severn Waterway in Ontario, Canada. At this point although the trip had been beautiful, I was exhausted from all the locks and feeling raw.
So what’s the Big Chute? Well your boat is taken out of the water with you staying on it. It is a railroad car over a 60 foot hill for boats. The only one functioning in North America. Getting on the railway carriage is achieved as a vessel moves onto a submerged hoist and track. The boat is then floated onto the deck of the railroad car and cradled by straps. Then the carriage is slowly raised out of the water and the boat settles into the straps for support.
(A boat in front of us)
(The boat rail track down to the other side)
Next the carriage is hoisted up the slope by wire ropes attached to winches on a railroad car that keep the boat straight. Once the boat is at the apex of the 60 foot summit, the carriage is lowered into the water by wire ropes. The boat is floated off the sling and continues the journey upstream.
This was all constructed to overcome a final obstacle, a giant hill. The earliest marine railway to take boats over the hill was constructed in 1917. The railway was rebuilt in the 1920s. In the 1970s, there was more boat traffic and it seemed time to take the approach of the rest of the Trent-Severn, blowing-up hills and waterfalls with dynamite -this time to create a super-lock. (This man over Nature thing is killing me!) Interestingly enough, this was decided against due to an invasive species that would have decimated a nearby fishery if a lock had opened to the bay, the sea lamprey. An ancient blood-sucking eel like creature that can grow up to two feet long had entered the Great Lakes to which the bay below the hill connects. How did this creature, and since the 70s many other invasive species, get into the Great Lakes in the first place? Through locks, especially the locks that opened the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean and beyond through the “pride of North America’s” St. Lawrence Seaway.
So to say the least, I was impressed that Canada had chosen to keep the Big Chute railroad operating to keep out the giant sea lamprey, but I was rather terrified of the chute itself. Perhaps my fear led to self-fulling prophesy because Finito did not make it over the first time. It’s kind of new boating territory and currents are intense due to a nearby waterfall and power generation plant.
Finito going through Lock 26 at Lakefield. She is 60 feet overall.
So on the morning of July 13, after spending the night on the “blue-line,” with many other boats, Ed and I were ready to guide Finito and her 68,000 pounds onto and over the Big Chute – with Luna and Okee inside. The chute tenders allowed 6 jet skis to go ahead of us. When it was our turn to go in, Ed maneuvered Finito into the shoot carriage appropriately. He says he lost sight of the jet skis under the bow and slowed down a bit as we entered. That maneuver caused the swift current to catch the stern and drive us at an angle into the Chute. The chute tenders tried to help, by lifting the straps to center us. Unfortunately, one of the straps caught the stabilizer and did not allow us to move either forward or back. Once they released the strap, We were instructed to back off while the park’s employees checked for damage.
The current caught us again while we backed out, scraping the rubberized wires that separated the chute from the waterfall and power generating river. Falling right into all the angst I’d had about this in the first place, I had visions of the wires breaking and Finito towering over the falls. I yelled to the parks people asking if we could go around the nearby 40 or so people on jet skis waiting on a floating dock. The park service said “no” we had had to turn around completely because if we went around the floating dock there were huge rocks. Somehow Ed maneuvered away. I begged him to dock the boat and check the hull and bottom for damage. Ed said he already had. With a surgeon’s precision he stated over the headphones, “We are going in again.”
“Again?” I incredulously responded.
“Again,” replied Ed.
I opened the doors to the salon and unzippered the screen: “Get ready Luna and Okee!”I could not believe it. I took a deep breath. The park’s people were waiting for us this time with no Jet Ski riders. The blue-line was filled with boats waiting their turn, people were out on docks watching. One lady made the sign of the cross and I did the same in her direction. Finito had experienced every boaters’ nightmare, “not to make it,” and now after only a few minutes of regrouping we were going to try again.
Shaking like a leaf, I stood port side to inform Ed of distances. Right away I saw the wood post we had busted on first try.
“One foot from the wires. Heavy current.” I said as calmly as possible into the headset. Ed did not reply. With great force Ed gunned Finito onto the submerged railway car. Finito clicked into place. The strings held us. My eyes filled with tears. Horns blasted and boaters cheered and clapped from the sidelines. Ed walked out of the pilot house. We looked at each other and smiled…
Video #1, second try
Video #2 Arriving at the bay on the other side of the hill – 60 feet down to the bay of the Trent River not Georgian Bay as I state.
The Canadian Park Service gave me a necklace. I wore it for two weeks even though Captain Ed was the one who really earned it!
Ed and I are 105 days into America’s Great Loop. After traversing over 2000 miles, a fellow looper asked: “How long have you been gone from your home port in Stuart?” “Three months,” I replied. “How much longer will you be traveling?”“Seven more months,” Ed yelled from the pilot house – a sobering reminder that Captain and First Mate are not even half way.
Finito going through Lock 26 at Lakefield. Photo Ixatxe De Valles Sanchez, Happy Giraffe.
Since I last wrote, our trawler Finito has gone from Kingston to Trenton; Trenton to Frankfort; Frankfort to Cambellford; Campbellford to Hastings; Hastings to Peterborough; Peterborough to Buckhorn; Buckhorn to Bobcaygeon; Bobcaygeon to Kirkwood; and Kirkwood to Orillia.
We have been motoring along the 240 mile Trent-Severn Waterway, a National Historic Site of Canada. Constructed from 1833 through 1920, the zig-zagging waterway connects a series of lakes in central Ontario linking Georgian Bay and Lake Huron to Lake Ontario. The waterway contains 37 conventional locks, two of the worlds highest hydraulic lift locks, and concludes with the “Big Chute,” a marine railway that transports one’s boat, out of water, over a height of 60 feet – the only one of its kind still in use in North America!
The locks are operated manually!
Along the way there are villages, cities, and breathtaking scenery. I celebrated my 60th birthday on the Trans -Severn while in “Campbellford.” Here Ed saved a drowning pigeon, we had a romantic dinner on the Trent River, and I learned that when the word “ford” is used it means there was once a land bridge, a place where horses and people could cross the river. These shoals have been dredged and replaced by modern day bridges. My favorite stay though was on the downwall of Kirkfield’s lock 36, totally remote. I sent family at home a photo texting: “Where we slept last night – just us and the fireflies.” My clever brother Todd wrote back adding Sasquatch: “Are you sure you were alone?” he wrote. We all got a big laugh and then I wondered…
Sasquatch behind Finito! Todd Thurlow 🙂Adam and Eve glacial rocks form the last ice age, Buckhorn. Lore has it that holding hands while touching both rocks brings blessings.Beautiful moss and lichen at Kirkwood an area that was dynamited to create the “linkage” thus one sits deep in the earth.Tree roots growing into the edge of ancient rocks.Lift lock 36, Kirkfield. It was in the shadow of this lock we slept…maybe with Sasquash. Canada has put Sasquatch on a stamp!
Indigenous people, in Canada referred to as “First Nations,” and fur-trading Europeans following animal trails roamed this area in the 17th Century, pulling their canoes over portages. Later saw mills, water power gave birth to larger villages and eventually cities. By the 1920s, dredging, canals, dams, and locks replacing waterfalls and rapids and let’s not forget purposeful flooding created a navigable system. Today this Trent – Severn Waterway is a world famous destination for recreational boaters.
Waiting for Peterborough Lift Lock 21. Boats go up and down in a “bathtub” controlled by the weight of water.
Locks, locks, locks -Lock-a Rama- one after another, some double, some going up, some going down. The sun beating down so intensely that I started using an umbrella for shade. At the beginning of the lock journey, still bow-thrusterless, Ed and I were faltering.
A gentleman in front of us called out: “Why don’t you put your wife on the bow rather than mid-ship?” Ed and I followed direction and from there on out Finito swung to the wall perfectly. At lock 20 a water pump blew bringing Finito’s starboard engine to a halt. We knew there was no way we could navigate the remainder of the trip on one engine. Luckily our next stop was Peterborough, a large city. Within in a couple of days and the with direction of friends Finito was repaired.
Locks take time and I remain no expert on the waterways of the area but it is clear the altering of Nature’s wetlands and waters have had repercussions. Inside the locks algae and invasive zebra mussels coat the walls. Upon approach, submerged aquatic vegetation (SAV) is almost out of control in many areas.
Ed in algae coated lock.SAV along waterway is very thick
Machine used to remove SAV
Flowering SAV.
Just like the Indian River Lagoon with all its problems, there remain many beautiful areas. Some lakes are clear and hold many bird species. In Lake Simone I saw at least 50 common loons! Eastern Kingbirds were prevalent in the gorgeous wild flower area along the canals. Turtles are a familiar sight, as are of course the Canada Geese, called “cobra-chickens” by the locals. The geese are so called for their aggressive manner and hissing with their tongues out when protecting their young. I admire this. They are survivors.
Canada Geese
My favorite has been learning about the swans. So beautiful! Tundra swans that breed in Alaska and northern Canada are native -holding their necks straight while mute swans, the kind you see in Batman movies, gracefully curve their necks and were introduced from Europe. July 1st was Canada Day, and as the fireworks were blasting, I took a photograph of a pair of native tundra swans headed towards shore. We are seeing more and more swans of both types as we continue on the trip.
Native tundra swans in Little Lake near Peterborough – Canada Day! They did not seem scared but did move to shoreline.Wildflowers everywhere!
Tagged native tundra swan, Orillia.
Today, Ed and I are in Orillia almost at the end of the Trent -Severn. These lands like all were once the historic home of Indigenous people who fished here in one of North America’s oldest human developments – the Mnjikanning Fish Weirs between Couchiching and Simcoe lakes. I look forward to learning more about these people and how glorious the lands, waters, and wildlife were during their era and how to do our best to return so today.
Statue in Orillia honoring the First Nation people who built fishing weirs in these waters well before recorded history – during the Archaic period in North America. Many remain in the area fighting for more management input into their native lands.
Today I get to enjoy these lands as a tourist. Ed and I are grateful for this. We are also grateful some of the new friends – that will become lifelong friends- we have met along the way and for Luna and Okee who are keeping us company on our journey. Get ready kids! Tomorrow, the Big Chute!
Ed gives Luna her first bath of the trip!Parka is a the mascot of Canada Parks. Beaver brought Samuel de Champlain and trappers to these lands and waters. Their populations are returning after being completely decimated. The kids visiting the locks and some adults love learning from Parka!Okee in the sun.Trinity the pigeon was given to Canada Parks after we rehabilitated her. Okee and Luna behaved!
Captain Ed, Luna, Okee and I have arrived in Kingston, Ontario – Canada! This means we have traveled about 1500 miles since leaving Stuart, Florida. After 84 days, our captain/crew capabilities have improved, but are certainly not perfected.
Kingston is a historic and interesting city full of Canada Geese, Mallard Ducks, and people from all over the world, all raising their children. The water at Confederation Basin Marina is clear. Kingston lies on Lake Ontario at the mouth of the Cataraqui and St. Laurence Rivers. The submerged aquatic vegetation is so thick, it is being removed and piled atop the docks. I have been unable to determine if it is native or partially invasive. Nonetheless, the geese and ducks eat it ravenously!
The population of Kingston is very diverse. The city houses Queens University. The blend of old and new city has a hip and international vibe. There is every imaginable ethnic restaurant. Reading the historic markers makes clear that the community is coming to terms with its difficult Native American history.
Flowers fill the rocks and pots of the city.Ed & Luna fill the “i.”On the back of a historical sign about John A. Macdonald, the first Prime Minister of Kingston.Okee looks out wondering why Luna gets to go and she doesn’t!Kingston’s Sydenham Street United Church. Built 1851-52. The United Church of Canada is the country’s largest and embraces all people.
Since I last blogged, Ed and I have traveled from upstate New York’s Brewerton to Oswego; Oswego to Clayton; Clayton to Wellesley Island, and Wellesley Islands to Kingston, Ontario.
Ed and I stayed longer than planned in Brewerton. We had significant starboard bow-thruster issues in the Erie Canal and had hoped to get fixed at Winter Haven Marina. After a 12 day visit, we did not. Ed is ready to learn how to handle the boat anyway, and I had the opportunity to study a colony of supersonic barn swallows and their chicks. Also, with time on our hands, Ed and I visited the lands of my family’s mid 1800s teasel growing-Thurlow English heritage: Syracuse and Skaneateles, New York.
My father was born in Syracuse in 1936 and grew up in Liverpool on Onondaga Lake. This five mile long lake, sacred to the Iroquois Confederacy, became polluted by industrial pollution and sewage to the point that by the first half of the twentieth century it was one of the country’s most contaminated waterbodies. My grandfather moved the family to a home on the St. Lucie River in Stuart, Florida in 1952. Little did he know the fate of the Indian River Lagoon. Unlike the St. Lucie, Onondaga Lake has gone from “the butt of one eyed fish jokes” to a lake of beauty, much enjoyed and improved. Let’s hope the St. Lucie River/Indian River Lagoon can do the same.
Carpenter Falls on beautiful Skaneateles Lake was my father’s favorite. It lies in an old growth Hemlock forest towering above the cliffs of Bear Swamp Creek. My dear father passed away in 2022, but I could clearly envision him standing under the falls since he could not swim in Onondaga Lake. It must have been a happy place for him and it was a happy place for me that day too.
My father’s boyhood house in Liverpool, NY on Onondaga Lake.Carpenter Falls on Skaneateles Lake.
Thereafter, Ed and I returned to Brewerton and headed west through locks on the Erie Canal, once rapids or waterfalls, taking Finito north at Three Rivers – where we saw our first swan! Once in the Oswego River it became narrow and quiet and I thought about how my reading had taught me that this river, as all between Lake Ontario and the Hudson River, was the lands of the French and Indian War – that of course included the British. This was a time when commerce was motivated by the slaughter of animals for the fur trade. Millions and millions of them…
Sometimes history is overwhelming but one can’t close one’s eyes to it. Ed and I were reminded during our visit to Oswego that the city was the ONLY in the U.S. to accept Jews during WWII. The Safe Haven Holocaust Refugee Shelter Museum/Fort Ontario tells this incredible story.
Oswego River empties into Lake Ontario. Centuries of industry has contaminated both the river and lake. Today it is being improved.There are many black squirrels in Upstate New York but this has nothing to do with the water!
From Oswego, Captain Ed, “bow-thusterless,” led Finito through the St. Lawrence River to Clayton, first settled in 1801. It was the main railroad terminus to the 1000 Islands resort region during its heyday of the Gilded Age at the turn of the 20th Century. These rock islands emerge from crystal clear water. Most are forested.
Here the rich and famous built vacation homes – the most famous being Boldt Castle. Within thirty years, Mr. George Boldt, rose from poor Prussian immigrant to fabulously wealthy proprietor of the Waldorf-Astoria hotel. Boldt abandoned the castle upon the death of his beloved wife for whom he was building this castle. Lovingly reconstructed by the Thousand Island Bridge Authority, today, the castle is open to all as amazing testament to the spirit of the American Dream and of American history.
Boldt Castle, Heart Island, 1000 Islands, 1900-1904, fell into disrepair for over 70 years and is now mostly restored.Ed and I definitely resorted our love hearing the story of Heart Island-Boldt Castle. To celebrate we had a rare restaurant dinner afterwards at the 1000 Islands Club on Wellesely Island.Ed looks out into the 1000 Islands, NY. his love Luna, always nearby.Ironically, once of the great lessons for Ed and I at Boldt Castle was that the chef of the Waldorf-Astoia invented “1000 Islands” salad dressing! Something we had seen our whole lives in the refrigerator with no idea…Part of New York State Canal System showing Lake Ontario.
It’s May 22, we’re 55 days into America’s beautiful Great Loop! A full moon is rising over New York City and Finito, our trawler, is tucked densely into the Morris Canal at the mouth of the Hudson River. Yesterday, Captain Ed and I left the strong currents of the Manasquan Inlet in New Jersey to meet New York’s Statue of Liberty face to face.
Finito before the Statue of Liberty. Photo fellow Looper, Mike Stern.
After three days of ocean travel, the Dramamine had worn me down magnifying my emotions. Liberty stood there strong and beautiful, a gift from the people of France. She looked even more striking than she must have appeared in 1886. Holding the torch above her head with her right hand, in her left carrying a tablet inscribed July 4, 1776, the date of the U.S. Declaration of Independence. A broken chain and shackle lie at her feet as she walks forward in commemoration of the national abolition of slavery following the American Civil War. She of course also later became our icon of freedom welcoming immigrants by sea.
It was an amazing day. At one point, it was rather chaotic with tour boats, looper boats, ferries, and commercial ships jockeying for space as we waited for an opportunity to have a fellow looper take our photograph before Lady Liberty.My mind has been filled with images. Images that make me look backwards yet forwards. I have been reading Chesapeake by James Michener. Copyrighted in 1978, I remember this famous book at my parent’s bedside. Still a classic, I opened it just about a week ago when we were at the north end of the magnificent 200 mile long Chesapeake Bay. We were taking the C&D Canal from Harve de Grace to Delaware City preparing for our ocean travel to New York. I gushed over the twenty or so Canadian Geese honking by as we disembarked. “Oh look Ed! They are so beautiful!”
There have been many Canadian Geese along the trip, especially in Chesapeake Bay, but not the rafts – the millions of birds (geese, ducks, and swans) that once migrated through this great bay.Ed and Luna at St. Michaels, Chesapeake Bay. We awoke with the dock underwater. Some residents say their greatest environmental threat is sinking.
But as I got deeper into Michener I was reminded of the carnage of hundreds of years that led up to this “beautiful” day, changing the ecology and changing the bay – something that I no longer “see.”
~Vast forests, once held in awe by the native people, burned to the ground, deer and beaver displaced, hunted and skinned for trade; the planting of the “stink weed,” the cash crop tobacco, building towering fortunes and powerful families; overfished “unlimited” shad and herring; the crash of the world’s greatest oyster fishery that once took only three to five days to filter all the bay’s water, now impaired; the ravenous consumption of helpless diamond back terrapins for soup; the unregulated mass slaughter of millions and millions of waterfowl; giant ancient sturgeon annihilated for their roe; and the bay’s multitude of the delicious blue crabs finally in decline. Today’s river is pretty but it is plagued by dead zones, algae and reduced productivity. Hard working Chesapeake Bay restoration programs are lauded and a model for the entire county. Yes, “Chesapeake Bay looks beautiful,” but she is damaged. just like the St. Lucie River – Indian River Lagoon.
Across our lands and waters, across generations – are changing baselines. We accept less as normal, as beautiful. We must continue to do all we can to regain real glory. “Beauty,” by today’s standards, is simply not enough. Liberty must come to Mother Earth.
I try to do my part but I am part of the problem too. “Keep trying,” I say. “Keep trying.”
Captain Ed and First Mate JTL in the engine room checking diesel and oil. No spills!
Ed and me? Compared to the days of our Loop departure from Stuart, Florida, on March 28, I am a much more experienced, confident, and stronger, first mate. Ed is a better and more experienced captain. I have come far from the days that I bristled at his commands. We have docked at least 40 times, with only two qualifying as “disastrous,” the others were just “beautiful!”
Well it is beginning to rain and thunder, Okee is looking at me funny again, Luna is barking and the Hudson Valley is shrouded in mist. Another adventure begins…
Okee is doing great but misses lizards.Hudson River
Since our last post our travels have included:
Solomons Island, Maryland, to Edgewater/Annapolis; Edgewater to St. Michaels; St. Michaels to Harve de Grace; Harve de Grace to Delaware City, Delaware; Delaware City to Cape May, New Jersey; Cape May to Atlantic City; Atlantic City to Manasquan Inlet; Manasquan Inlet to New York City, New York.
Entire Cape May, NJ is a National Historic Landmark!
It’s early morning and mirror-like water flows underneath our trawler “Finito.” It is hard to tell where the water stops and where the sky begins. Chesapeake Bay stretches out before us. It is enormous. Today is our 33rd day of 365. I am first mate on our journey, America’s Great Loop.
Chesapeake Bay is the largest estuary in the United States, 200 miles long-30 miles wide at max.
So far this morning I have awoken to warmly dress, check the lines, study the current, and review the tides and weather. I’m happy. It’s going to be a beautiful day.
Standing on the floating dock next to laughing gulls and a tall blue heron, Captain Ed and I say farewell to new Looper friends and push off from Yorktown Marina, Virginia. Ed actually complements me on my performance.
Chesapeake Bay is renowned for its conservation efforts, but continues to struggle to meet targets -the majority not met caused by agriculture. Nonetheless, in the York River a tributary of the Chesapeake, the dock area was full of families and children swimming, minnows and bird life, growing grasses and fans.
“Thanks, but all of the conditions were in our favor,” I reply.
Only a few days ago we had left Beaufort, North Carolina, a perfect time capsule of a town, and overwhelmed by strong current, barely avoided collision and lost a couple of fenders as we scraped our way forward. Half the community, dockhands, and many tourist looked on wide-eyed as Ed and I lost control of Finito within seconds. With our hearts pounding, Captain Ed and I straddled the Intracoastal markers spaced for cargo ships and barges and continued on our way into the deep Newport River that made the St. Lucie look like a creek.
“Junction Buoy” Intracoastal Waterway, Newport River, NC
There was no anger nor blame. In fact we were completely silent. Mother Nature had beaten us both even though we had been analyzing her for days…
Humbled before Nature – she tempered us.
The waterways have gotten larger and deeper and more unpredictable. Since I last wrote we have traveled from Beaufort NC to River Dunes; River Dunes to Belhaven; Belhaven to Coinjock; Coinjock to Norfolk; and Norfolk to Yorktown VA.
Waiting and passing through the Great Bridge Locks on the old Albemarle-Chesapeake Canal caused Ed and me reflect on the hardships of soldiers who fought in the Revolutionary War, their battlefield nearby. A complete wilderness, not much different today, but for tugs pushing barges. Not far from here lies the Dismal Swamp where thousands of escaped slaves found shelter during the Civil War.
Slowly, we had entered the Pamlico and the Pungo Rivers, next, Albermarte Sound. Rough and windy weather had overtaken us and always the optimist I worried the hull would burst open. Ed rolled his eyes and carefully came off the fly bridge into the pilot house as waves crashed over the boat. I put on my life jacket.
“I hope we don’t lose an engine,” I thought rejudging my size as I moved about the cabin. Okee and Luna were sitting up straight. They were doing well but confused by the pounding. After about two hours, it passed…
Norfolk, Virginia, the world’s largest naval base lie before us. Warships and aircraft carriers lined the Elizabeth River. Ed skillfully made his way giving way. I stood on the bow awe struck.
Touring the Battleship Wisconsin, Norfolk, VA.Passing cargo ship, Chesapeake Bay.
From Norfolk we traveled to Yorktown, part of America’s historic triangle along with Jamestown and Willamsburg. We could see the monument from afar, beckoning. Slowly Lady Justice came into view as we entered port. What an experience it would be to step upon the hallowed ground where America gained her independence. 🇺🇸
Captain Ed stands reading the Yorktown Victory Monument commemorating the 1781 victory and alliance with France that brought about an end to the American Revolutionary War.A discussion with Commander in Chief , General George Washington; Major General Lafayette, Continental Army; Lieutenant General Rochambeau, French Army; and Admiral de Grasse, French Navy.Tuna for Okee and Luna! Such great fur-babies and so brave!
It is day 23 of at least 365 on America’s Great Loop. At this point, with bruised arms and sore elbows, I am a bonafide first-mate and have learned to take orders. Every day, I assist my captain. I check diesel levels, I peer intently through binoculars looking for Intracoastal triangles, announce distant shoaling, man the lines, drop the fenders, and sometimes even take the wheel. I have accepted my fate ~ I am not in charge.
Checking diesel levels for my captain.
However, Captian Ed and I have re-bonded through my acceptance of this simple but profound concept, one I never did accept in the 20 years of our marriage. I’ve decided it’s OK for now. 🙂
Life has changed. Every day chores like doing laundry, fixing a leaky sink, or vacuuming have become endearing. Kind of like being in college again. Serious decisions have given way to listening and discussion. We are becoming a team. How long this new peace-pact will last, I am not certain. But on our 55 foot trawler, “Finito,”we live day by day; it’s slow and beautiful.
Happy at Myrtle Beach Yacht Club after successfully backing into a slip.
Doing laundry, Hilton Head, SC.
The low country of the Carolina coast is defined by marshlands and the American history of the Deep South. These marshes fed the riches of cotton, indigo and rice plantations. The Gullah culture of former slaves resonates, though the area is now covered with golf courses and subdivisions.
Emancipation Oak, southern states, Beaufort, SC.
The marshes themselves are habitat to hundreds of aquatic organisms, birds, and animal species. Connected to countless river estuaries, they are the nursery to the sea. Polluted stormwater, groundwater contamination, and developmental habitat destruction have negatively affected some areas. To the untrained eye, like mine, it looks relatively healthy. Of course, turn of the century dredging of the Intracoastal Waterway created our “Great Loop” roadway.
The American Great Loopers Cruisers Association shows the path of the “great loop.”
Marshland, Beaufort, SC.
Fantastic Waccanaw River osprey nests!
A house along the marsh, Georgetown, SC.
Since my last post Ed and I have traveled from Hilton Head to Port Royal; Port Royal to Charleston; Charleston to Georgetown; Georgetown to Myrtle Beach; Myrtle Beach to Southport; Southport to Wrightsville; and Wrightsville to Swansboro.
My uncle reminded me that my Henderson ancestors traveled up North Carolina’s Cape Fear River where they settled near Campbelton, the same Scottish settlement name as the town they’d left in the 1770s. I picture them taking a ferry through the reed filled marshes, or a cypress black river, the tides washing away the hardships of the old-world and bringing hope for life anew.
Boro Low County Kitchen, Cape Fear River, Swansboro, NC.
Ed and I are 13 days in on America’s Great Loop. 300 miles of 5600. I have stopped wearing makeup. I’ve worn the same clothes for at least 10 days. I’ve taken three showers. I’ve washed my hair twice. I’ve gotten pretty good at “manning” the lines and pulling up or putting down the giant fenders. I’m sleeping better than I ever recall. So far, it’s been an absolutely amazing and challenging trip.
I am the first mate. That means that I have to do what the captain, my husband Ed, tells me to. This is challenging. And we have had a few heated discussions. We have with us our 12 year old Belgium Shepherd, Luna, and our 3 year old cat, Okee. They are great company and Okee is definitely now a therapy cat.
Ed resting with Luna & LunaWe use headphones when docking. They are called “marriage savers.” Fernandina, Amelia Island.
This boat trip is supposed to last about one year. Ed retired, and I was not reconfirmed by the Senate for the South Florida Water Management District governing board, nor reappointed by the Governor. Thus, this long journey seemed a perfect thing to do. Time for Ed and I to spend some quality time together. As we all know, “time is of the essence.”
So far, our trip has been Stuart to Vero, Vero to Titusville, Titusville to Ponce Inlet, Ponce Inlet to Saint Augustine, Saint Augustine to Fernandina, Fernandina to Jekyll Island, Jekyll Island to Sunbury, and Sunbury to Isle of Hope. Today we are headed to Beaufort, South Carolina, hopefully, weather is to arrive and last for two or three days.
“Wow these crab traps are close together aren’t they?” Sorry we’re approaching Savannah. We just went past Thunderbolt Marina and these crab traps are like, oh my gosh, they’re like you have to weave through them!
The wildlife has been wonderful. My favorite so far are the white pelicans sitting marsh side in groups of 25 or so. They have the second largest wingspan of any bird in North America 9-10 feet. Only the California Condor’s is larger.
White Pelicans have been in Florida, Georgia and South Carolina.
The trees too have also been an inspiration. Oaks, slash pines, red cedar, and magnolia. Their births holding the rings of hundreds of years. I look up into their highest branches ridiculously trying to capture their spirt within the rectangle of my iPhone.
I’ve been trying to learn about water issues and I have. Most in Georgia are caused by industrial point source pollution and none have been as tragic as the 100 year destruction of the St. Lucie River. Discharges from Lake Okeechobee should be considered point source pollution too.
The serpentine waterways of north Florida and especially Georgia have been just mind boggling . The tide is like a slow breath through the marsh purifying and renewing the ecosystem – oysters, crabs, frogs, alligators, mink, otter and many species of fish. The highest tidal range has been 8 feet!
Lover’s Oak, Brunswick, GA. Over 300 years old 🌳Slash pines, Sunbury.
I’m hoping that this peregrination teaches me something about myself, my marriage, and the history and environmental issues of our great country. Then when I return home, I know I will be renewed.
But I am paying attention.
I noticed yesterday that Governor DeSantis came to a Cove Road Walgreens to sign off on a shoplifting legislative bill with harsher penalties for those who steal. I was surprised he didn’t also mention Martin County’s recent “Lost Spring” due to discharges from Lake Okeechobee. That was stealing too. While I’m on the subject, there was not a peep from Senator Gayle Harrell, or Representatives Overdorf or Snyder about the Lake O discharges either. I suppose Tallahassee leadership has asked that “we just not talk about it.” God forbid…
Sunbury, Georgia.Marsh“Captain”1700s chapel, Isle of Hope.
