When I first began this blog in 2007 I read several articles about travel literature. One of the first travel writers in America was Mark Twain. Travel was a new possibility for the middle class in the 1880s and Mark Twain wrote several successful accounts of his travels including The Innocents Abroad. One rule that Mark Twain had was that his travel works must be cheerful. He said that, “the difficulties in travel are so great that to record them all would be litany of misery.” I have tried to follow his advice here. However, for this post I will break down and relate the dreadful events of Memorial Day 2020.
Jan and I awoke before dawn at Rabbit Island. The plan for the day had been months in the making because there is no room for error when crossing the Mississippi River. We would proceed 20 miles down the Navigation Canal to New Orleans. The we would transit the Inner Harbor Navigation Lock also known at the Industrial Canal and Lock. This complex includes (from east to west) the Florida Street Railroad Bridge, the huge N. Claiborne Ave. Lift bridge just before the Industrial Lock, the lock itself, and finally just after the lock is the St. Claude Street lift Bridge. About 100 yards further west is the Mississippi River. We would travel upstream 6 miles bucking a 3 knot current and then cross over to the Harvey Lock. After the Harvey Lock is the 4th Street lift bridge. The final stretch is a 20 mile run to Lake Salvador to anchor. That is if there is any daylight left.
There was a lovely dawn as I weighed the anchor, and we started for New Orleans. There was virtually no traffic as we had hoped on this Memorial Day. We did see many barges docked along the canal or more commonly parked in the mud along side the canal.
My friend, Dr. Richard Davis, had called me the night before. He had made the trip before and advised me to call the lock master and introduce myself before arrival. Good advice. I did call on the cell phone when White Pepper was about 5 miles out. The lock master was very professional and courteous. But then he said, “you’re a sailboat aren’t you? You had better call the N. Claiborne Bridge. I heard that they are not opening.” He gave me the phone number to the bridge. I called the bridge with my heart pounding. The lady operator was less courteous and said curtly that “No, they were not opening for 5 days.” I asked why, and she said, “donno.” End of conversation and beginning of scramble.
My initial response was to return to Rabbit Island. Jan quickly vetoed that plan and said that we should find something nearby. She got on her Navionics app on the iPod and began to call all 20 of nearest by marinas. This being Memorial Day she got almost no answers.
At this time we were passing by the mouth of the Inner Harbor Navigational Canal. This short canal connects the Inner Harbor with Lake Pontchartrain. I had read and heard from Dr. Davis about a marina in the canal. So we headed into the canal. Guarding the canal is a busy railroad bridge, but it was open as we approached. Beyond the railroad bridge was the massive I-10 Interstate Bridge which we cleared easily. However, a quarter of a mile past the I-10 Bridge is the lift bridge over US-90 also known as the Danzinger Bridge. It was tall but after passing under 1000s of bridges I knew this one was too low. It was a lift bridge. I called the nice operator of the railroad bridge and asked him what to do. He stated that the Danzinger Bridge required a 3 hour notice to open and he gave us the phone number. Jan called and raised a very nice lady from the Louisiana Department of Transportation. She said she would try to get someone out there in 45 minutes. I continued to circle. By this time the railroad bridge was closed and we were trapped in the canal. After about 35 minutes the Danzinger bridge began to lift. The operator never acknowledged our heartfelt Thank-you’s. We passed Pontchartrain Landing which is a marina and an RV park. They had responded that there was no vacancy. As we passed there were numerous open slips. The final obstacle was the Seabrook lift bridge which gave us a quick opening. White Pepper was free upon Lake Pontchartrain.
By this time Jan had raised someone on the phone—Lake Shore Marina—who agreed to let us dock at his marina. Navionics showed Lake Shore Marina to be several miles to the east next to the famous Southern Yacht Club inside the New Orleans Municipal Yacht Harbor. When we got there Lake Shore Marina was a closed fuel dock and convenience store. We docked on the bulkhead. Jan called the nice man who said that he thought we understood that his marina was in Slidell, a town about 30 miles across Lake Pontchartrain.
Desperate Jan saw a banner with a phone number across the small canal. She called and, miraculously, our angel, Andrew, answered. He directed us to a marina inside the break works about a half mile away. There were over a hundred empty slips! We grabbed one and hopped off the boat quite overwhelmed. There was no one in sight!
Andrew came by several hours later and explained that this was the New Orleans Municipal Yacht Harbor Marina. It had been totally destroyed by Hurricane Katrina 15 years ago. FEMA had agreed to replace the marina. So far the only construction had been beautiful, study floating docks. There was no electricity, no water, no showers, and only scant trash pick up. The only residents were a few hardy souls surviving with generators and jerry jugs for water. Thus ended White Pepper’s worst day ever.
The next morning the staff showed up with attitude. However, when we assured the harbor master, Wayne, that we would pay and had insurance things got a bit easier.
Jan wanted to pay for 5 days of transient dockage and then push on when the N. Claiborne Bridge opened. As it turns out tropical storm Cristobal would roll right over New Orleans in 5 days. My nerves were completely shot, and all I wanted to do was fall asleep in my own bed in Beeville, Texas. We negotiated a 3 months lease and reserved a rental car at Hertz. The Municipal Yacht Harbor is well protected and the floating docks should prevent a repeat of the Katrina disaster which was caused by a 20 foot storm surge. The solar panel are more than sufficient to trickle charge the batteries. Our friend, Andrew, agreed to watch the boat while we were gone which made leaving much easier.
The bad news was not over, however. Jan and I took White Pepper out onto Lake Pontchartrain to charge the batteries before we left. Within a few minutes the alternator began to heat up and smoke. While Jan stood by with fire extinguisher in hand, I limped her back towards the harbor. The alternator finally seized up before we docked. That afternoon I made several phone calls and was able to find a mechanic to replace the alternator.
There was one final aggravation. Just as we were locking up to leave I switched on the bilge pump one last time. It did not come on. I even switched out pumps without success. I just had to leave that chore for later. We Uber-ed to Hertz to pick up the rental car. Nine hours later Jan and I were back in Beeville. I, for one, was never happier to see the old homestead.
Several weeks later we did return to New Orleans. I hard wired (and fused) an automatic bilge pump to the batteries. But that trip is a post for another time.
