We left Dog River Marina, which is in a rich suburb at the mouth of Mobile Bay, on Friday. There seem to be about a million sail boats who call this Dog River area "home". The marina wasn't fancy but they were great to deal with and let us stay for free because we had filled up the boat with diesel fuel... a fact that I really don't even want to think about right now. It was sort of like the gods got wind of the fact that Bob was going to move his boat and thought, "Boy, wouldn't this be a great time to run the price of diesel right out of sight?" We left Dog River at 6:18 a.m. (you like the precise time? Wayne started keeping a Captain's Log to record such stats.) and headed up the bay toward the Mobile River. This took us through the ship yards at Mobile. Very interesting stuff and even more interesting maneuvering around ships and barges from all over the world, going in all sorts of directions.
We finally accomplished that and got into the river where all the navigational aids that we had learned so far changed on us. Now we had river numbers, like mile markers, which are kind of cool because it gives you a sense of 'how far"... provided you know what river, stream, bayou etc. your supposed to be on! The engines seem to be giving us a break, at least for the time being, which is enough to put a smile on my face. I advise all that speak of this subject to have their fingers, legs and anything else crossed when you mention or even think anything about them.
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| Coffeeville lock and dam... this was Ronnie's first "locking through". |
We had an interesting experience while headed up river. Mitchell was driving and a boat was coming toward us. We started slowing and I told Mitchell to steer away from the boat. However, the boat changed his course and crossed in front of us. So we slowed some more. But apparently not fast enough and not slow enough for this guy because he picked up a rifle off the floor of his Jon boat and started pumping it up and down like a wild Indian. He then pulled to the back of our boat about fifty yards away and again brandished the rifle in the air. I was quite sure that all this was about the wake; I just wasn't sure I approved of his tactics. So I sent Ronnie downstairs to my cabin to retrieve my backpack in the event I needed the pistol within. When he saw Ronnie jump downstairs, he turned and headed, post haste, down stream not to be seen again, though I hung out on the back deck for an hour or so, just to make sure he didn't indulge in some liquid courage and decide to return.
So we continued up river toward Bobby Dahlberg's Fish Camp, near Bladon Springs, AL. This was a grueling tug for us at 130 miles, our longest day ever. However, we chugged right along. Just before Bobby's, we came to the Coffeeville Dam and Lock. This was Ronnie's first "locking through" experience. But Mitchell is an old veteran at these locks by now and swung into action. It's sort of cool for the little guy to have it up on the older guy once in awhile. Although I must make a note that Ronnie has been the best and very helpful often without having to be asked. As a parent, it's moments like this which make you think that the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train coming straight for you. Meanwhile, Marci is stuck at home with very teen aged, Jazzy, definitely a train headed for you at this juncture of our lives. Enough whining... on with the story.
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| This is the Place. You can see the dock in the background |
After the lock, it was just two or three miles upstream to Bobby's. A second quick look at my guidebook, and OMG, they don't have anything other than fuel. But it gets better. On the way in, I told Wayne, "OK, they have a small gas dock and a restaurant and a trailer park". We start by this beautiful state park/campground and Wayne says, "There's a trailer park!" I just laughed. A little later when we had docked and were walking up to ask for the fuel attendant (turns out, we were him) I turned to Wayne and said, "THIS, is a trailer park!" he laughed and said, in his finest country drawl, "You're right, this is about as country as it gets!"
We were not disappointed with the fare at Bobby's. They had all sorts of good food, but for Wayne, Mitchell and me, they couldn't have done any better. They had fresh caught cat fish cooked like you want 'em and all you could eat. We stuffed ourselves with great gusto and decided that it was nearly as good or right up there with the Greek food we had in Tarpon Springs, our best dining experience thus far.
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| It's not to look at but the food is great |
We had heard that Bobby's was famous for the high percentage of snakes in the water around the area. When we asked about the snakes, they told us not to worry... the alligators ate 'em all. Works for me.
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| And hanging in the dining room there is an Alligator Gar |
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