The day grew warmer as we continued pushing south and west. The river was being kind � little wind, little traffic, no complicated navigational issues. It was time for something potentially boat threatening to happen.
It was Brian who noticed the sound of trickling water while he rearranged his bunk in the cabin. "Sean," he querried, "is that coming from inside the boat?"
Indeed it was. My father, Joe, redid all the plumbing several years back. It was the only remnant of the original plumbing, a 40 year old section of rubber hose, that had burst. Its location below the waterline and the fact that it connects the bilge to the drain had made it a direct inlet for the river to make itself at home in the boat.
Luckily, all the drains are equipped with valves where they come through the hull. It took some straining for me to squeeze in close to it but it was an easy thing to shut the valve, free the offending tube and replace it at a nearby marina/ship's store (thanks Brian, the store manager). Now it should be good for another 40 years�.Caveat Emptor in futurum. Three more locks without a major hitch by day's end.
We spent the night at Spring Valley Marina (still no water, but at least the electric was hooked up) and met some great people � howdy all � thanks for the fuel!
The morning of the 4th day looked spectacular. Clear skys, sun rising, calm water. We headed out onto the IL River at daybreak, just as the only barge traffic of the morning (and most of the day as it turned out) came chugging by the harbor entrance. Brian was at the tiller and we concurred that we should allow the barge room by going under the bridge overhead on the extreme left. Thus, not 10ft from the harbor mouth, we found ourselves grounded. And grounded well. We'd been going full bore when we felt that telltale bounce-and-slide that means a particularly good grounding, including the entire length of the keel. This time Brian went into the drink, followed by Eric. Half an hour later, while they warmed themselves aboard and tried to control the shivering, we devised a plan wherein all three of us would go in, push the bow to face the current and shove the stern up to effect a slide back into the channel. Much effort was expended and it worked!
So we ended up leaving the vicinity of Spring Valley at a much later than expected, a mere 9:36 instead of the 7:20 we had been so excited about. Surprisingly, this did not impede us on the ensuing 78 mile run. The end of the day found us anchoring in the twilight at Big Coon Island, south of Peoria and ahead of schedule. We were treated to the passage of a barge during full darkness � an awesome sight. Something like standing at the end of a runway while a 767 takes off, only slower. Thank you and good night!!
We were off at sunrise, and a beautiful sunrise it was on the beginning of the 5th day. With plenty of gas to reach the next likely refueling port and enough fresh water for coffee (we had used some river water and a filter the night before) early morning departures are easy from such a pleasant anchorage. Carefully checking up and down stream for barges (there were none) we continued the voyage into what promised to be an even longer run than the day before. For once, there were no major hitches. We stopped at Tall Timbers Marina for fuel and met friendly folk including the owner of the marina who told us that this year the water had come up 23ft during the spring melt. Brian told him that's just about the daily tide we can expect upon reaching the Pacific�.he shook his head in what I take to be wonder�. Also, we met some ecologists monitoring pollutants, wildlife, erosion, ect. Apparently the toxic levels are way down from the 70's (for those of you who weren't born yet: the 70's marked the critical mass of accumulating pollutants over a two hundred + year period along all the waterways of the East Coast and Midwest. This was the time when Lake Erie's tributaries were catching fire, Waukegan was declared the worst polluted harbor on the Great Lakes, and the influx of toxins (PCB's, heavy metals, insecticides, ect) was measurable in metric tons yearly. While practices have improved, the situation could still be called dire: the pollutants didn't disappear, they're sitting in the muck on the bottom. When this is dredged you have thousands of tons of toxic waste to dispose of and precious few places to dispose of it�.)
Continuing: the end of the day found us once again anchoring at dusk, this time off Wing Island about 40 miles from the Mississippi River. And this time we had made 101 miles in a single day placing us a full day ahead of schedule!!! We triumphantly stepped onto the beach, built a fire and cooked spaghetti in the wok (of course I brought a wok!). The next day should entail an "easy" run to the Mighty Miss and Alton IL. Wish us luck!
Another smooth departure from another island we called home for a night�.one could get used to this! The run down the last stretch of Illinois River on the 6th day was, happily, uneventful in the sense that we didn't sink or ground, or get run over by barges. The Illinois River, and ourselves on it, joined the Mighty Mississippi River at Grafton IL, at 1:30 pm. A few short miles down the Miss brought us to Alton, where we'd scheduled a big event: showers! But first an even bigger event: Stepping the mast!!! Finally, the Faith would be transformed from a river scow into the beautiful, curvaceous sailing cruiser that she is. Brian, Eric and I tied some lines, loosened others, and in a matter of a few minutes erected the mast on the formally e-mast-ulated vessel!!! The only hangup was a single stay (wires that help support the mast) that got hungup for a moment as we pushed and pulled. Well, too simple and you get complacent�
Faith got a much deserved bath and so did we.
Buenas Noches.