Another morning of fog. It settled and lifted, settled and lifted. Even so, local bow hunters looking for deer and wild boar sped by in their shallow-draft Jon boats.
Our companions in the anchorage were on top of the local reports. Sea Sea and Just Us radioed a marina and the anchorage downriver, for fog and commercial traffic reports.
Once we had favorable reports of downriver conditions, we upped anchor and were off. Even so, there were fog banks looming around the bend.
Here is the famous Bobby’s Fish Camp. The dock can only accommodate a few boats, each of which were also waiting for improved visibility and the downbound lock.
Here is a nice camp on the riverbank.
Coffeeville Lock was ready for us, but had lots of logs and flotsam in the way. We each approached with extreme caution.
This lock normally locks 36 feet in our downbound direction. With the lower river at flood stage of plus 30 feet, we had a short ride of only six feet down! We also wondered if the lock and dam were named after the color of the water!
Out of the lock, the boats are like ducks in a row.
And as we proceeded, the parade opened up under the next bridge.
Further on, the shoreline was interesting, with sandy banks. Erosion is a constant issue, with the high water. The river is continually reshaping itself.
This photo of one page of our chart shows why it is 100 miles as the crow flies from Demopolis to Mobile, but 200 miles as the river flows!
And on the aptly named Horseshoe Bend, this is a nice rural property. They must hope the creek don’t rise (too late, it has!).
Here is the junction of the Alabama and Tombigbee Rivers. From this point on the waterway is called the Mobile River.
We raced against the darkness, to anchor as night descended. We passed this tug and barges in the twilight.
We were just a short distance from our intended anchorage as we spotted the twin bridges.
Then we passed under the bridge, turned left into Little Lizard Creek, and dropped the hook in the nick of time, with the very last of the civil twilight to show us the way. The current of 2 knots kept us tight on our hook. In the pitch dark, the Jon boats with bow hunters looking for deer and “pig,” (wild boar) roared by with spotlights flashing.
Another morning of fog. It settled and lifted, settled and lifted. Even so, local bow hunters looking for deer and wild boar sped by in their shallow-draft Jon boats.
Our companions in the anchorage were on top of the local reports. Sea Sea and Just Us radioed a marina and the anchorage downriver, for fog and commercial traffic reports.
Once we had favorable reports of downriver conditions, we upped anchor and were off. Even so, there were fog banks looming around the bend.
Here is the famous Bobby’s Fish Camp. The dock can only accommodate a few boats, each of which were also waiting for improved visibility and the downbound lock.
Here is a nice camp on the riverbank.
Coffeeville Lock was ready for us, but had lots of logs and flotsam in the way. We each approached with extreme caution.
This lock normally locks 36 feet in our downbound direction. With the lower river at flood stage of plus 30 feet, we had a short ride of only six feet down! We also wondered if the lock and dam were named after the color of the water!
Out of the lock, the boats are like ducks in a row.
And as we proceeded, the parade opened up under the next bridge. 
Further on, the shoreline was interesting, with sandy banks. Erosion is a constant issue, with the high water. The river is continually reshaping itself.
This photo of one page of our chart shows why it is 100 miles as the crow flies from Demopolis to Mobile, but 200 miles as the river flows!
And on the aptly named Horseshoe Bend, this is a nice rural property. They must hope the creek don’t rise (too late, it has!).
Here is the junction of the Alabama and Tombigbee Rivers. From this point on the waterway is called the Mobile River.
We raced against the darkness, to anchor as night descended. We passed this tug and barges in the twilight.
We were just a short distance from our intended anchorage as we spotted the twin bridges.
Then we passed under the bridge, turned left into Little Lizard Creek, and dropped the hook in the nick of time, with the very last of the civil twilight to show us the way. The current of 2 knots kept us tight on our hook. In the pitch dark, the Jon boats with bow hunters looking for deer and “pig,” (wild boar) roared by with spotlights flashing.
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