Great Loop Chronicles Part Ten
Marine
- Sponsor
- OPTIMA Batteries
- Location
- Guntersville Lake, AL
The Great Loop Chronicles will be an ongoing series, following the travels of OPTIMA Batteries staffer, Jim McIlvaine, as he travels America's Great Loop, a 6000+ nautical mile journey around the Eastern United States.
We are always told not to make too many plans on the Great Loop, but we had one plan we wanted to keep. I had to work the OPTIMA Ultimate Street Car weekend in New Orleans and at the Major League Fishing Redcrest tournament the following weekend. We really wanted to make it to the Gulf Coast and Pass Christian, so Gwendolyn and the kids could at least be close to family, while I traveled for work.
That meant we'd need to put in some longer days and cover more water than we did yesterday, when we only went 15 miles. We spent a total of nine hours underway today, including passing through the Chickamagua and Nickajack locks, covering 62 miles. We scouted anchorages ahead of us, that would give us time to set the anchor before sunset. The reviews for Crow Creek described it as a deep water anchorage with a rocky bottom (pictured above), which seemed like a good enough choice. We made our way in from downstream as directed and set the anchor as far out in the middle as I felt we could. I didn't really understand what it meant to call out an anchorage as having a rocky bottom, until my wife woke me up at 2AM.
Unlike our previous nights on the hook, the wind didn't really let up overnight and there were about 2 knots of current where we anchored on a side stream. I set the anchor per my training and made visual references on the shoreline, to make it easy to know if our anchor was dragging. The reviewer let out 150 feet of chain, but I was reluctant to do that, given the wind and the current. Even though we were in a side channel, I was concerned that if I let out too much chain, we could swing into the shoreline.
I was tired from the long day and fell asleep easily enough, but when the anchor chain started scraping on the rocky bottom as the boat swayed, it woke Gwendolyn up, which resulted in me getting woken up. Initially, I wrote it off as just scraping on the rocks, as my visual reference on the shoreline remained unchanged. I was definitely awake and paying attention though. Then the boat jerked.
I lept up to the flybridge and turned on the spotlight and Garmin. We hadn't moved from our position, so the best I could figure, our chain was scraping across the rocky bottom, got caught on a rock and when it released, it jerked the boat, like we were dragging, when we were still staying in place. I decided to let out another ten feet or so of chain, but I didn't dare let out anymore, for fear of getting blown into the shoreline.
Then I sat and watched our boat move back and forth on the Garmin...for what seemed like the rest of the night. Every once in a while, I'd turn on the spotlight and look at my shore references, which held solid, but I was too rattled to sleep again. At least it wasn't too cold to be hanging out upstairs. The third night of anchorage had effectively deleted the positive impressions I had from the first two anchorages and instantly made me a huge fan of stopping at marinas, even if we had to pay by the foot.
The price paid for dockage was well worth the comfort of a good night's sleep for me. The upside of a horrible night's sleep? We were up and making way the next morning as the sun came up. Read about our next day here.
We are always told not to make too many plans on the Great Loop, but we had one plan we wanted to keep. I had to work the OPTIMA Ultimate Street Car weekend in New Orleans and at the Major League Fishing Redcrest tournament the following weekend. We really wanted to make it to the Gulf Coast and Pass Christian, so Gwendolyn and the kids could at least be close to family, while I traveled for work.
That meant we'd need to put in some longer days and cover more water than we did yesterday, when we only went 15 miles. We spent a total of nine hours underway today, including passing through the Chickamagua and Nickajack locks, covering 62 miles. We scouted anchorages ahead of us, that would give us time to set the anchor before sunset. The reviews for Crow Creek described it as a deep water anchorage with a rocky bottom (pictured above), which seemed like a good enough choice. We made our way in from downstream as directed and set the anchor as far out in the middle as I felt we could. I didn't really understand what it meant to call out an anchorage as having a rocky bottom, until my wife woke me up at 2AM.
Unlike our previous nights on the hook, the wind didn't really let up overnight and there were about 2 knots of current where we anchored on a side stream. I set the anchor per my training and made visual references on the shoreline, to make it easy to know if our anchor was dragging. The reviewer let out 150 feet of chain, but I was reluctant to do that, given the wind and the current. Even though we were in a side channel, I was concerned that if I let out too much chain, we could swing into the shoreline.
I was tired from the long day and fell asleep easily enough, but when the anchor chain started scraping on the rocky bottom as the boat swayed, it woke Gwendolyn up, which resulted in me getting woken up. Initially, I wrote it off as just scraping on the rocks, as my visual reference on the shoreline remained unchanged. I was definitely awake and paying attention though. Then the boat jerked.
I lept up to the flybridge and turned on the spotlight and Garmin. We hadn't moved from our position, so the best I could figure, our chain was scraping across the rocky bottom, got caught on a rock and when it released, it jerked the boat, like we were dragging, when we were still staying in place. I decided to let out another ten feet or so of chain, but I didn't dare let out anymore, for fear of getting blown into the shoreline.
Then I sat and watched our boat move back and forth on the Garmin...for what seemed like the rest of the night. Every once in a while, I'd turn on the spotlight and look at my shore references, which held solid, but I was too rattled to sleep again. At least it wasn't too cold to be hanging out upstairs. The third night of anchorage had effectively deleted the positive impressions I had from the first two anchorages and instantly made me a huge fan of stopping at marinas, even if we had to pay by the foot.
The price paid for dockage was well worth the comfort of a good night's sleep for me. The upside of a horrible night's sleep? We were up and making way the next morning as the sun came up. Read about our next day here.