Gulf-ing from Alabama to Florida

Me, on the starboard side, with a familiar view, going down a lock, for the last time. One hundred and ten locks, done and dusted. 

THIS LEG

The bottom of the Tennessee-Tombigbee River was full of twists and turns. Around and around we went from one anchorage to the next. It’s hard to tell from the scale of this map, but we entered the protected salt water of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway just East of Mobile Bay. The last part of this leg was a 170 mile crossing that we accomplished in 17 hours!

BOTTOM OF THE TENN-TOM RIVER

At the bottom of the inland fresh waterways, America’s Great Loop funneled all Loopers down the Tennessee-Tombigbee River (“the Tenn-Tom”). There were no side trips. While we saw many public boat ramps for recreational fishing boats(1), there were few marinas along this rural byway. There were fewer pines and more straight oaks. A bit of Spanish Moss clung to certain trees. 

At this point, we were buddying up with another Looper-friend boat. One of us would drop the anchor in a known good anchorage spot, and the other boat would raft to the anchored boat. In the evenings we played games, taking turns at hosting. We were pleasantly surprised at the beauty of our little anchorages. Based on the dictionary definition, I would describe them as bayous: creeks off The Tenn-Tom. 

On the Tennessee-Tombigbee River between Demopolis and Mobile, Alabama. Mike’s drone took this while we were moving.  

Not all the bayous were slow-moving. While anchored at one creek, we experienced a crazy two MPH current. Out the window we saw mats of floating water hyacinth (my guess) moving past us, giving us the illusion that we were moving.(2) 

Those days moved by in a flash because they became routine. Awake and pulled anchor. Cruised by rural country for four or five hours, anchored. Dinner. Games. Bed. 

TRANSITION TO SALTY OCEAN WATER

Huge milestone: We went through our very last lock on this leg! Mike counted 110 locks on our entire Loop.(3) Locks were amazing feats of engineering. As we entered each and every one we were awed by the manpower that went into the planning, design, and maintenance of these extra large bathtubs. The patience that the professionals who operated the locks lended us—as well as the tug boat captains—made for a positive experience. 

It was clear that these locks made massive changes to the environment that needed to be mitigated. I think the next generation will figure out solutions to restore health to these waterways. 

As we passed out of the last lock we immediately experienced changes in the environment. We saw sandy banks. And palmettos. As we inched closer to Mobile Bay, Alabama, the air became more briny. We spotted an alligator and noticed more pelicans.

Hey, Mr. Alligator! It was easy to spot this one sunning in the lower Tenn-Tom near our anchorage one day. It’s the white/black cylinder on the bank in the middle of the photo.

We had this bayou all to ourselves in mid-November. Okatuppa Creek, off the Tenn-Tom.

The Tenn-Tom dumps out into Mobile Bay. Mobile Bay was much bigger than I had imagined at about ten miles across and thirty miles long. 

As we drew closer to the Northern tip via a deep-enough, man-made channel, we saw evidence of the importance of this port. Lots of huge cargo ships were being loaded, unloaded and sped off via our channel to parts unknown. Since this was a large bay we experienced the first bumpy water since Lake Michigan. When we stopped at a rough and tumble marina that night we saw salt crystals formed from the day’s sea spray on Sacagawea’s deck once again.

PENSACOLA, FLORIDA

At the bottom of Mobile Bay we turned East, into the Gulf ICW (Intracoastal Waterway). I think no one gets tired of seeing dolphins. These bow riders escorted us into the Gulf ICW:

Our first stop was at a super-new and pleasant marina. It had been a while since we felt pampered at a marina! It was at The Wharf, in Gulf Shores, Alabama. Pleasant = new, wide docks, modern, clean shower rooms and a shopping center with multiple upscale restaurants. I even got my teeth conveniently cleaned at a dentist office while there. Amazing. 

These days, I sure appreciate these small conveniences and niceties. We stayed about two weeks here because we left Sacagawea for a week over Thanksgiving.

One especially memorable day at Gulf Shores, Alabama, we got out on our folding bikes and spent a long day in Gulf State Park. We stopped to capture this lovely short stretch of an elevated boardwalk across a lagoon. It was a perfect day with the sun, pleasant temps and easy-on-the eyes nature. I asked my sisters over Thanksgiving if they would be willing to return here someday for some shell collecting and a hotel stay with me. “Yes,” they said. Happy dance.

For Thanksgiving we visited Beaverton, Oregon for a five-day visit with resident and out-of-town family. So many of us converged in one place this year. (Miss you, those who couldn’t join us. XO!) 

As we continued East we stayed in downtown Pensacola, Florida. Pensacola was better known for the being the home of the Blue Angels. There were many other active bases in the area and they seemed to sustain the local economy. The Blue Angels whizzed around while we were cruising and visiting the vibrant National Naval Aviation Museum. 

At the entrance of the museum was this A-1 Triad 1911 replica (see video below). Our engaging, retired test pilot/tour guide pointed out that the A-1 Triad was a test plane—and a seaplane. As it spins in the video below, note the retractable landing gear. Surprising for one of the earliest planes, I thought.

Our tour guide was pointing to the NC-4 biplane over his shoulder from 1919. I hope you can see the enormous scale of this early seaplane. It was 68 feet long with a 126 foot wing span! It was first plane to fly across the Atlantic (with stops). I can’t imagine taking that dangerous ride—but what an inspiring milestone in the history of aviation.

Fast forwarding to the 1970s, this helicopter was used by Presidents Nixon and Ford. I weakly imitated Nixon’s famous two-handed victory sign before boarding. 

There were so many planes, helicopters and jets at the museum, it was a little dizzying (and repetitive). What I found striking was the speed of technology change on display. What people have accomplished in 100 years made me wonder what will be accomplished still in my lifetime. Flying taxis, practical hydrofoil jet skis, and environmentally gentle electric airplanes?

Here was a typical downtown building in Pensacola. Do you see in it a little bit of New Orleans and Charleston, like I did? We found Pensacola charming. Its history as one of the first conquistador towns was interesting as well.

STAGING FOR OUR LONGEST OPEN WATER CROSSING

Here was the interesting view—flora unlike any we had seen—along the Gulf ICW between Pensacola and Apalachicola: 

When we returned from Thanksgiving, we continued our trip East, and began to stage our crossing of the Gulf of Mexico. While it didn’t look like much on a map, it was going to be our longest nonstop crossing to complete on The Loop.(4) 

We resumed our trek with our card-playing Looper friends, picking a few anchorages and visiting the old Florida towns(5) of Port St. John, Appalachicola and Carribelle.

Here was a typical looking building in downtown Apalachicola. We stopped for a few hours and took a walk to…

…the local Piggly Wiggly! It was fun to say and interesting to shop at for groceries. Also notice the price for gas: $2.78 a gallon! It was like being in a country with a different currency. 

A sure “sign” that you’re in a Gulf Piggly Wiggly—the FISH FRY isle. 

You can find industrial-sized “Liquid Boil” seasoning and countless brands of cornmeal/flour dredging mixes.  

Maybe, or not, surprising was the tea aisle. It was full of iced tea bags. I did not know that some teas were marketed just for iced tea. Incidentally, we could find neither decaffeinated coffee nor tea at the Piggly Wiggly. 

By this day, the waves were still too big in the Gulf of Mexico for our crossing to West coast of Florida. But we had a good idea of a day coming up when the waves would be minimal. So, we continued to a multi-day stay in Carrabelle. Here was what it was like to arrive in Carrabelle (five minutes fast forwarded to a few seconds):

We had the good luck to arrive on the day of their annual Christmas boat parade. It was followed by a spectacular (Christmas?!) fireworks show. I found Carrabelle a little rough around the edges. Admittedly, I only saw the waterfront village. I was eager to leave and start the next leg. Let’s get into it!

CROSSING THE GULF OF MEXICO

With just one extra day in Carrabelle we had a good crossing day in sight. It seemed that crossing plans and strategies was all the Loopers could talk about in Carrabelle.(6) Since crossing days happened about once every one to two weeks, there were usually a flotilla of Looper boats that crossed together. 

The crossing would take about seventeen hours. Boats target to arrive after 10:00 a.m. in order to avoid a strong East-facing sun glare on the water. So it’s a mostly nighttime crossing.(7)  

I found solace in Mike’s thoughtful but also cool-as-a-cucumber approach to the crossing. He told me he was just eager to complete it. I, on the other hand, had been dreading it since I learned about it five years ago. I get sea sick. We wouldn’t be able to see anything because most of the trip is at night. I have trouble staying awake all night under normal circumstances. We wouldn’t have Starlink or cell coverage, for Christ’s sake. 

But also, I had always wanted to see all the stars from the open ocean. It’s a manageable, good challenge for me. I wasn’t alone. We had our buddy boat. I had Mike. 

Here was the view from our staging anchorage, close to Carrabelle, inside of a barrier island called Dog Island. 

We thought we’d stop here and take a nap before heading into the great unknown. However, the beach looked like sugar and was so inviting that we took a dinghy ride in and walked around.

Footsteps, not our own, on Dog Island. Last walk on land for a while!

We departed our Dog Island anchorage at 4:00 p.m. We decided that starting at 10:00 p.m. we would switch off ant the helm every two hours. I took the first shift. 

As they say, spirits were high. Click here—> This is how it felt.

Excited to make it happen! Underway, happy and wide awake at sunset, behind us. Mike put up some modest Christmas lights. That’s what’s hanging from the ceiling. At this point we could not see land.

The sun. Going, going, gone. Waves were from the Northeast, as expected. One to two foot chop. As expected.

Darkness fell slowly and steadily. Mike adjusted the instruments to be readable in the dark. The cloud cover increased. We realized we would not see a meaningful amount of stars.

I was feeling completely fine—no sea sickness while using my Relief Band and Dramamine. I was not drowsy.

Mike, in the glow of our instruments. Probably looking forward to his first nap!

About an hour after moonrise I saw the glow that moonshine made on the water. It was just like sunshine streaming through a hole in the clouds. All color was gone from our surroundings. Outside it was cool, but we were comfortable in the wrap-around of our flybridge.

When we started our shifts I was fine just listening to podcasts. On my second shift I alternated between standing and sitting for ten minutes each. In the wee hours, Sacagawea and our buddy boat became enveloped in fog. Technically, it was no different than being in the dark. But I no longer saw the comforting running lights of our buddy boat behind us in the fog. 

The fog persisted even as the day began to glow and the blue ocean color returned. It was important to have good visibility in order to see commercial crab pot buoys. Some crab pots were miles from shore.  

We reached the dredged canal entrance to the Clearwater, Florida area in one piece. Yes, we were tired but needed to stay sharp in the morning fog, avoiding crab pots. We ended up in a small marina in Tarpon Springs. 

Like the locks, this challenging aspect of The Great Loop was done and dusted. I think I got the best sleep of my life in that marina.

FOOTNOTES FOR FUN FACT FANS

(1) So many of the most basic types of boat ramps! The boats we saw were almost entirely bass boats.

(2) Current reinforces the need for a solid hold. Our anchorage in one bayou turned out to be soft mud, so it took three tries, increasing the scope each time, to get our anchor to stick. On the third try, we dragged anchor when we used two engines in reverse, even though we used a hefty seven to one scope. But we didn’t drag with one engine in gear. We decided this set would be good enough and we would keep an eye on it while it was still light out. 

By morning, we seemed to have stay put. A hyacinth mat about six feet wide wrapped around our anchor line. It came off as we winched the anchor up.

(3) We plan to run down the West Coast of Florida, around the Keys. If we have a poor weather window for this we’ll duck into the Okeechobee Canal. It has five locks. Imagine this: five locks hold back the great Gulf of Mexico and the mighty Atlantic Ocean. This is unlikely because there was a recent issue in the Okeechobee Canal, blocking recreational traffic.

(4) Loopers watched the weather predictions closely and compared strategies about when they leave the Carribelle, Florida area and their target on the West coast of Florida. They can go the long way, making many, multi-day hops around the “big bend” area. Or, go mostly straight across to a town near Tampa Bay. 

(5) “Old Florida” is term we saw to describe the Florida towns that were established before 1825. They have nothing to do the touristy lure of the fun and games of Orlando or Miami. 

(6) Strategies we discussed where: When to leave—and what time do we want to arrive? How fast should we go? Should we go in a straight line or do we travel on a curved path? Etcetera and ad nauseam. All these factors varied by boat. And, it varied depending on the predicted direction of the waves (avoiding taking them straight on or abeam). Also, Looper boats have varied comfortable cruising speeds. Many Loop boats traveled at 7-8 MPH. Sacagawea liked 9.5 MPH.

(7) I wore my Relief Band, which I wrote about before, for the entire crossing. I also took a non-drowsy Dramamine an hour before we left. These worked perfectly for me.