Our encounter with the remains of Lock A, followed by a day underway where I had neither the heart nor the energy to write here, has put me behind on the blog. Today I will pick up where I left off at Nashville and catch all the way up.
As I mentioned in the last two posts, we had a pleasant and uneventful cruise back downriver from Nashville, ending right back up in Ashland City at the Riverview Restaurant "and Marina" (map). Apparently they used to fancy themselves a marina of sorts, with power, water, and even fuel, and they charged a buck a foot for overnight dockage. With 15' of depth at the dock, it was a perfect stop for us.
Vector at the Riverview, as seen from the Ashland City boat ramp.
Nowadays it's just a dock, and a rather lightweight one at that, with a row of inoperative pedestals. Dock and dine has always been free, and now they'll let you spend the night as well. We were tied up by 4:30, and opted to sit on their deck for our 5pm cocktail hour and buy a couple of beers rather than have them aboard, as is our usual custom. We returned to nearly the same spot at dinner time for typical riverfront fare (burgers and fried food).
With the lock still closed, in the morning I took the e-Bike across the bridge into town, after first convincing O'Reilly's auto parts to deliver my filter and eight gallons of oil to the restaurant first thing. I enjoyed seeing the town in the daylight, under much less stressful conditions. I stopped at the hardware store for a couple of items, rode past the firehouse where Angel had spent the night, and rode all the way out to the grocery store for a few necessities.
We dropped lines just before noon and slowly made our way downriver to the lock, passing en route the "scene of the crime." There was one downbound tow waiting, as well as three upbound plus the Queen of the Mississippi, who was still several miles off but, as a passenger vessel, had top priority for lockage. We dropped the hook off-channel upriver of the dam, in 40', and got a tenuous purchase in a thin layer of silt atop bedrock.
Ashland City Fire, and the engine depicted on our medallion.
The lock was unsure when they could fit us in. Maybe as number four after two full cycles, or maybe not until the morning. Daily morning fog has been closing the lock for a few hours each morning, so it looked like it might not be until mid-day or later on Saturday.
The lock opened shortly after 5pm, just a few minutes behind schedule, and promptly up-locked the paddlewheeler before taking in the downbound tow. Thankfully it was a "single," wherein the entire tow, towboat and all, fit in the lock chamber. Still it took an hour and a half. At that rate, we were figuring to lock through just before bedtime.
Surprisingly, the lock called right after taking the downbound, just as we were finishing dinner, and told us they were turning the chamber around for us, even though an upbound "double" was making its way to the lock. A storm system that had been moving slowly toward us was finally here, and the winds were slowing the tows down, so they fit us in.
The serene water belies the danger below. We grounded between the white tent at left (still here after a week) and the tree to its right.
We exited the lock well after twilight, and immediately turned back to the tailwater area to anchor (map). Our charts showed good depth, and while we knew the bottom would be rock, with enough chain we usually get purchase in a crack. The charts turned out to be plain wrong; the water was shallower than charted, with only a small area with enough depth for us. Still, we got a good set and were comfortable as we watched the big double maneuver into the lock.
Our comfort was short-lived, as our ground tackle released suddenly an hour or two later. When we brought the anchor up we learned why: we had hooked a rope, which in turn was wrapped around a piece of metal, which was probably jammed in a crack. Between shifting winds, towboat prop wash, and a short scope, we pulled it right out. We had to get permission to tie to the guide wall while we cleared the fouling from the anchor, then made our way back to the tailwater to set it again. We were off the guide wall in plenty of time for the next tow to come on up to it.
After trying a couple of different spots, we once again got a good set, and Louise turned in for the night. I kept an eye on things, and turned in myself around 2. I barely had time to fall asleep when we found ourselves bumping against the bottom. We came upstairs to find the final towboat just pushing in to the lock, and the river not flowing at all. We also found our snubber line had chafed through from all the wind- and wake-driven horsing and had parted, sending our nice, and now unobtainium, chain hook to the bottom.
I snapped this photo today of the remains of Old Lock C, which at this lake level is proud of the water surface. This is similar to what we ran up on.
They turned the generators off sometime after midnight, shutting off the river, and the water was emptying out at a prodigious rate. We drove around the area looking for a spot to re-anchor, even trying in a couple of spots, but the only place deep enough was now too close to the navigation channel, and with zero river flow we would wander all over the anchor circle and not be held in a straight line downstream of the anchor.
Having run out of other options, and seeing that all the tows were now upriver of us, I called the lock and asked permission to tie to the federal mooring cells about a mile downriver. These cells had been occupied all evening, as they are where the tows wait their turn for the lock, but they were empty now. The lockmaster was very accommodating and even apologetic about the water level. Apparently it also stops the tows dead in their tracks.
It was nearly 4am when we finally got secure alongside a cell (map), a challenging operation even in calm water and broad daylight, made that much harder by winds gusting to 20, pitch darkness, and driving rain. But we were well secured and collapsed into bed, where we finally had a sound sleep. It was past 8 by the time we stumbled back upstairs for coffee.
Our lash-up to the mooring cell, in the calm light of morning.
As it turned out, the lock cleared their entire backlog overnight, the fog was short-lived in the morning, and they were back to locking through with more or less no waiting by late morning. In hindsight we should have anchored in the Harpeth River upstream of the lock and just come through in the morning, but, of course, hindsight is 20/20.
As we drank our coffee the towboat Tampa was locking down; they had just locked up the previous evening. Not wanting to end up behind him, we dropped lines just before 9:30 as we saw him shoving out of the lock. That put us in Clarksville just after noon, after a pleasant and uneventful cruise.
When we had passed Clarksville upriver we swung over to the city dock, where the water appeared too shallow. We quit at the 8.5' sounding and headed back to the channel. But while we were coming down from Nashville a few loopers docked here, and from them we learned there was 9' at the very southern end of the dock, whereas only 5' at the north end. Armed with this information we had called the city Friday and made a reservation.
When we tied up at 4am we found one of the rings we needed busted open. Louise managed to hook a like on it and get it all tight, but we put a "safety" on too, looped through the fender plate. River flow squeezed us back, slacking the first line, but it managed to hang on.
We arrived to find the dock empty, a relief since there are no assigned spots, and found almost 9' as foretold at the very south end of the dock (map). We were tied alongside by 12:15. We had paid the extra $9 for power, making a total of $36, and were glad that we did, as fall had arrived with a bang. Whereas we dined outdoors in shirtsleeves at the Riverview, it was in the 50s when we arrived in Clarksville, and dropped into the 30s overnight. With 50 amps of 250 volts, we ran all the heaters more or less our whole stay.
I bundled up and took the e-Bike out for a spin around town. In addition to scoping out the downtown restaurant scene and passing some historic landmarks such as the Montgomery County Courthouse and the 1898 Customs House, now a museum, I also ran over to Harbor Freight and a couple of auto parts places looking for shackles to replace the one now at the bottom of the river near the dam. No luck, sadly, so we are making do with what we had aboard.
Vector at the dock in Clarksville.
We walked back into downtown for dinner at the very popular Blackhorse Pub and Brewery, which makes some excellent drafts. Perhaps more appropriately I should say we climbed downtown; while only five blocks from the dock, the quaint downtown is some 150' above the river. The streets leading to it are quite steep.
In the morning I again took the e-Bike out, trying one more hardware store and again picking up a few grocery items at the supermarket. I also wanted to replenish the beer supply, but on Sunday you can't buy beer in Tennessee until after noon. I also ran some used oil filters over to O'Reilly's.
Quaint, but high, downtown Clarksville.
With a fairly short 4+ hour cruise ahead of us, we got the boat all ready to go and then lingered at the dock so I could pick up a six-pack at the closest gas station, dropping lines immediately afterward. We then had a pleasant cruise all the way to our old friend Dover Island, where we had the hook down before beer o'clock just a few dozen feet from where we anchored in the other direction (map).
Anchored near us at Dover Island were two other boats, one of which, Tuscarora, had been with us at Nashville and again in Clarksville. They had wisely spent the intervening night at Harpeth River and were only a couple hours behind us into Clarksville. They looked more well-rested than us.
On our outbound trip I stripped down to go swimming, but the water is ten degrees colder now, and the air temperature a greater difference than that. But in this direction I again stripped down, this time to descend into the hot engine room to change the main engine oil and filter. It was overdue, a casualty of our unfortunate incident. Having the oil a bit hotter than I like made for a very quick change.
Montgomery County Courthouse.
The rapid drop in outside air temperature, into the 30s or 40s at night, with the river still in the 70s, is a perfect recipe for fog, and we woke up in zero visibility this morning. It's a long day back to Grand Rivers, 8+ hours, so as soon as we could see the shoreline on both sides, we cranked up the radar and weighed anchor. The rest of the fog lifted within a half hour of getting under way.
It's been a pleasant cruise, over familiar ground, and we are on track to be back in Grand Rivers before cocktail hour. We've already crossed the state line into Kentucky. We'll find a way to get ashore and head over to Lawton's for dinner on the occasion of Louise's birthday. She's been talking to well-wishers most of the day, all of whom needed a detailed report on the allision.
We have a "quick haul" scheduled for Wednesday morning at Green Turtle Bay, and the insurance company is sending a surveyor. Unless we find some kind of show-stopping damage, such as a dent in the hull that is in jeopardy of perforating, we'll go right back in the water and continue on our way until we can get to a yard that can accommodate us, most likely in Mobile, Alabama.
Ah hindsight. That sounded very stressful! Glad you seem a calm sort.
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