Faith was unobtrusively making way downriver when suddenly a group of workers on an anchored barge began frantically signaling us to reduce speed. We complied, swinging wide of the end of the barge. That's when we noticed the diver who had just come up (an aside: he was wearing the equivalent of a space suit; I would, too, if I had to spend my days swimming in the Chitown River!) As the Coast Guard explained once they boarded our vessel, "that section of river was closed. No traffic is supposed to go through there today until the divers are done." It would be helpful in the future if they put up some signs or flashing lights � anything � to let us boaters become aware of these things. Maybe they didn't expect anyone to be moving down river this early�.we've gotten that a lot. ;)
At any rate, once the Coast guard had established that we weren't raving, armed lunatics�.:
CG: "�.have any weapons�board?"
Us: "What??"
CG: "If�.have weapons�..without reaching for them!"
Us: "What?? Don, turn down the radio, I can't hear what they're saying."
CG: "HEY! WITHOUT REACHING FOR THEM!!!"
(Radio turns off)
Us: "Sorry, we couldn't hear you over the radio. We don't have any firearms, just some knives and swords, a couple boat hooks, the flares�.."
�they inspected the boat and found us completely in compliance with all safety and legal regulations. Most of my close personal friends will not believe this but I have the receipt to prove it. Ha!
The other thing the Guard did was to warn us to be extremely careful while navigating the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal. (Just for the record they warned us not to run over any more divers.) We said thanks and proceeded directly down river to the canal.
The CSSC is one of the most novel bodies of water on our trip in that it is the most narrow, the most dangerous (in terms of number of barges per linear mile � upwards of 30 � versus number of pleasure boats � 1, us), and the most horribly polluted. The canal is essentially the sewer pipe for Chicago's waterbound waste. St. Louis actually filed suit with Illinois when it was built, though no one could ever demonstrate that the canal contributes significantly to pollution levels in the Mississippi.
Barge workers on the canal gave us looks ranging from amusement and surprise to shock and awe to the kind of morbid fascination usually reserved for people who go over Niagra Falls in a barrel. It was harrowing. We were often forced to leave the channel (sometimes just barely) to allow a barge packet past. Oh, yeah, if you ever do this Do Not, for any reason except your boat sinking, Get On A Barge. They get very upset. Probably has something to do with insurance�.
The Sanitary and Ship Canal eventually leads to the Lockport lock and dam where you are deposited onto the Des Plaines River. This came as a relief. Although still busy with barge traffic, the Des Plaines is not walled in on both shores by crumbling limestone walls and to some degree resembles what one expects from a river - a little winding, some healthy plant life right up to the bank, a boat launch here and there. Don jumped ship at the wall in Joliet, to fond farewells. We settled in comfortably for the remainder of the day's travel. One more lock, a few more miles and we could find shelter in a marina for the night.
Ha ha ha.
First, we had to wait about an hour at the Brandon Road Lock while some priority barge traffic lifted through. This afforded us enough time to get kicked off the wall at the local marina/bar ("It's $10 to wait here") and for me to go "swimming." Some advice for river travelers: Don't go to the northwest area of Brandon Road Lock to wait for it to open. The bottom is a peculiar admixture of muck, sticks, silt and probably raw sewage that together act as a suction cup for the keels of small boats. Brian and I were chatting amiably on deck making lazy circles near a rundown dock while Eric napped in the cabin. Then the lazy circles abruptly became a lazy point. We looked at each other. We looked at the engine. And, in unison, we said "Aw, shit."
Attempts with boat hook, anchor, and rocking accomplished nothing. The lock would call us through at any moment. There was only one thing to do. I was out of my clothes and into some shorts in seconds. And over the starboard side, tied to a line long enough to reach the nearby dock.
Let me tell you � water in Northern Illinois is COLD in early April. Very cold. Also, river bottom muck in this area is disgusting. Very disgusting. The smell actually sticks to you�but my immediate concern was to get on the dock and PULL for all I was worth while Brian and Eric fired the engine up to full blast and rocked the boat as hard as they could. Faith freed herself, I was rescued, and the lockmaster called us in 30 seconds later.
The delay at the Brandon lock cost us the daylight we'd hoped to use to get to our destination � the confluence of the Des Plaines and Kankakee Rivers, the beginning of the grand Illinois River. Our sights were set on Big Basin Marina, beneath the Interstate 55 bridge. Not that darkness is a great worry, we have a spotlight aboard the runs off the marine batteries and can be mounted at the bow. Which is just what we did with it. The river was calm, empty and quiet for the remainder of the evening. The bar at the marina was calm, but neither empty nor quiet. We had celebratory drinks, waited for Donisha (Brian's fianc�) to arrive and happily went to sleep.