Kentucky at 6 mph

By Mickey Anders

While normal people enjoy normal vacations like sitting on the beach or taking a relaxing cruise, a wanderlust lies deep within my heart that makes me take risky adventures. Sailing has been my passion for almost twenty years now. After reading everything in the library about sailing and especially about sailing journeys, I found myself compelled to take a modest journey myself. But the problem with sailing is that you are going a long way on a slow boat. Sailboats do good to average six miles per hour.

So in the early nineties I took a modest adventure by sailing a small boat across Arkansas on the Arkansas River. By sailing two or three days at a time, the nine-day journey stretched out over a year. Then in 2000, I got the wanderlust again. This time I decided to sail across Kentucky.

I started at the cut-thru here in Pikeville on the Big Sandy, floated down river to Louisa where the old dam stopped me. In June 2001, I put my 21-foot sailboat (a Cal21) in at Ashland and sailed down the Ohio River for nine days, arriving 450 miles later at Owensboro. Then in September of this year, I spent a week finishing up the journey from Owensboro to Hickman. This time I had my wife following in a chase car, actually a chase truck.

By totaling the miles from two state crossings, I figure I have sailed small boats over 1200 river miles. I love the sense of adventure and the thrill of seeing what's around the next bend. There are views from the river that simply can't be seen from any road. And while I can enthusiastically say it has been well worth it, I cannot say it has been without problems. In fact, overcoming problems is what river journeys are all about.

Before leaving Pikeville, I spent two days repairing damage to my boat and trailer. On my last outing, I managed to drive under an overhanging tree on the boat ramp. That's not a problem for most boaters. But when you have a mast sticking 30 feet up in the air, it is. So I had to repair the bent aluminum bracing 2/3 way up the mast. And I noticed that one of the trailer tires was badly worn on one side indicating that my boat is probably too heavy for my trailer. A new axle looms in my future. But for the moment, I switched out the spare tire. Before I got to Bardstown the old tire was throwing off big hunks of rubber, so I had to buy a new tire in Bardstown.

After a successful launch in Owensboro, I was underway hoping for no problems. But at the very first lock and dam, I managed to bang the boat into the side of the dam throwing my anchor into the water. No damage was done except to my ego.

Upon arrival at Henderson, I learned that a boater can't leave a boat or a parked trailer at the dock without a permit from City Hall. The permit can be bought there Monday-Friday from 8 to 5. Of course, I arrived at 5 p.m. Saturday afternoon. So rather than meeting Sarah there for a pleasant evening in an air conditioned motel, I continued down river to spend the night on the boat behind Diamond Island.

A boat dock was no problem the next night at Elizabethown, Illinois, but Sarah had difficulty finding a place to stay with a vacancy. Finally, she found San Damiano Catholic Retreat Center about six miles away where we had a lovely evening amid the Blessed Mother Garden, Civil War Cemetery, Garden of Angels and a giant statue of the Good Shepherd with a beautiful view overlooking a 200 foot bluff above the Ohio River.

Upon returning to the boat on Monday morning, I discovered a serious weakness in the mount for my 5 hp outboard motor. Not wanting to drop another brand new motor into the water (Yes, I managed to do that last spring on Tampa Bay, but I am still not able to talk about that one.), I spent the morning borrowing tools from neighbors and repairing the motor mount.

Then I let Sarah drive away with the bag containing my marine radio, GPS, and binoculars. None of which was essential, but all of which were really helpful, especially when going through the locks. And I had to pass through Smithland Lock and Dam that day. Not to worry. I did have a cell phone and the telephone number for the lock. But when I approached the first lock, my phone signal was going in and out. About a mile away, I got just enough signal to get through and made the passage without trouble.

After a pleasant night in Paducah and retrieving all my gear for the next day's journey, I pushed off early but ran into trouble at Lock and Dam 52. The lock was under repair, and no traffic was allowed through. I waited along with 15 towboats for 4 1/2 hours before they finally got the lock going again. Although I enjoyed listening to the banter on the marine radio during that delay, it meant that I could not make Wickliff before nightfall.

Through intermittent cell phone signals, I managed to coordinate a meeting with Sarah across from Mound City. Once again I learned what I had run into so often – just because the map says there is a launch ramp across from Mound City doesn't necessarily mean there is one or that you can really use it. This time the water was so low the ramp was 15 feet out of the water. I had to throw out the anchor and wade in 2-foot-thick mud to get off the river for the evening. I could hardly sleep that night for worrying that the river might drop even more leaving my boat high on dry land. But the next morning, it still floated. And after pulling my way through sucking river mud again, I climbed aboard for my last day's run.

At 10:15 on Wednesday, September 4, I entered the Mississippi River. I had worried for weeks about the dangers of sailing a small boat on the mighty Mississippi. And although the current was noticeably stronger, I quickly decided that the Mississippi is just like the Big Sandy, except there is more of it. And the Mississippi rewarded me with an up-close view of a deer swimming across the river.

I wondered, "What possesses a deer to decide that it just has to swim across a mile-wide river?" Perhaps it's that same wanderlust that drives me.

About 2:30 that day, I arrived at my long-anticipated goal – Hickman, Kentucky. From Pikeville to Hickman is just about as far across Kentucky as one can go. And I did it all by river at six miles per hour.

When the wanderlust returns, I will have to decide on my next journey. Maybe I'll just continue on the Great Circle - down the Mississippi, around the intercoastal waterway, up the East coast, through the Great Lakes and back down the Ohio to Ashland! I figure that'll take all my vacations for the rest of my working career! But hey, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

For a detailed journal of the complete journey across Kentucky, go to Mickey's website at www.setel.com/~mickeya.