As the fog lifted, Mickey pulled the anchor and stowed the rode and I carefully started the Port engine; you will remember that the starboard tank is bone dry and has been for the last three or four miles. It was my first time in the lake and I had no idea where the marina was located. However, I knew we still had a couple of miles to travel. I may have not mentioned this but my GPS maps didn't cover this particular part of the trip so we were were navigating on our instincts. I could see in the distance what looked to be a marina entrance. After the difficult trip down the river and experience in the
Inner Harbor Canal, my courage was renewed and I begin to feel as if we would be able to put this part of the adventure behind us in short order.
I steered Detour toward the small canal leading to the marina. We pulled slowly in and I begin to hail the marina office. Nothing, not only nothing but no body and piles and piles of boats. All kind of boats and all piled up. Before I realized what was happening, we had moved slowly into the marina and right in the middle of the debris field of destroyed crafts. I became quite concerned that we might damage running gear or worse compromise our hull on jagged unseen objects of most any description. When I think about the experience, I was almost completely overwhelmed by the enormity of the devastation I was in the middle of and my mind wouldn't let me sort out the fact that I had entered the wrong marina. I still don't know what marina I was in and we were so addled by the experience that we completely forgot to chronicle the sights in our digital cameras... well Micky still uses film but it would have done a very satisfactory job if we had just had the presence of mind to use it.
We got turned around without incident and returned to the relative safety of the Lake. I had the telephone number to the New Orleans City Marina where we were to leave Detour for a few weeks while we returned to our homes to recuperate. I called the marina and learned we only a few hundred yards from the correct entrance and we made our way to our slip. We did make pictures on the way in that will illustrate some of the disaster aftermath.
We had a slip number that had been assigned to us when I reserved the berth. I moved through the marina until I found the slip and true to our recent experience, there was boat there already. Oh well shouldn't be a big problem, I thought, someone forgot to remember we were coming. There was one slip open in the marina and as I pulled into it I begin to wonder if it was empty because something big and dangerous had been deposited there in the storm. However, it seemed to be clear and we tied up and made our way to the temporary marina office; a FEMA trailer pulled in to replace the office that had been blown away.
I had used my credit card to reserve the slip and talked with a lady named Judy. Mickey and I entered the trailer and asked for Judy. The marina manager, she had a name tag that said manager, informed us that Judy wasn't there and that we didn't have a slip. I reminded her that I had used a credit card to reserve a slip a few weeks before and she said, and I quote, "you must not have heard, we had a hurricane". I became somewhat upset and I can't remember exactly the words I used but it was something like... "you're going to give me a place to put this boat until I can get back to get it or your going to have another sunk boat in your harbor because I'm going to knock a hole in the bottom and give it to you". She said, it can stay for a while but not long. I said fine and Mickey and I left.
I have never been in combat but I think I know what can happen to a person when he is placed under constant pressure to the point his mind refuses to comprehend the obvious and decisions become almost incoherent and certainly not rational. Thank goodness those guys in battle handle things better than I at that moment. I gathered up Mickey and we begin walking. I don't know where we were going but we were walking. As we walked, I saw a marine broker and we climbed the steps to the office and went in. Mickey had no idea what I was about to do and I think my next statement to the broker had him questioning my sanity. I told the broker I wanted to sell my boat, right now, today, before I catch my plane back to Knoxville.
The broker also had the look of someone talking to an irrational individual. I know because he was talking to me. The broker was kind and talked me out of selling Detour. I don't know even want to think about what he and his partner said about me when we left.
I finally decided to get on the plane and fly home and not worry about the boat or the marina. I packed up and left Mickey on his on for the night and his train ride back to Mississippi. I didn't hear from the marina and will explain how I got the boat to Mobile in the next installment of the blog.
I'll close by telling you that recalling these experiences and the difficulties of this part of the trip have left me out-of-breath and exhausted. I wouldn't give anything for the experience but it was truly a soul-searching event and most difficult in most ever sense of the word.
I steered Detour toward the small canal leading to the marina. We pulled slowly in and I begin to hail the marina office. Nothing, not only nothing but no body and piles and piles of boats. All kind of boats and all piled up. Before I realized what was happening, we had moved slowly into the marina and right in the middle of the debris field of destroyed crafts. I became quite concerned that we might damage running gear or worse compromise our hull on jagged unseen objects of most any description. When I think about the experience, I was almost completely overwhelmed by the enormity of the devastation I was in the middle of and my mind wouldn't let me sort out the fact that I had entered the wrong marina. I still don't know what marina I was in and we were so addled by the experience that we completely forgot to chronicle the sights in our digital cameras... well Micky still uses film but it would have done a very satisfactory job if we had just had the presence of mind to use it.
We got turned around without incident and returned to the relative safety of the Lake. I had the telephone number to the New Orleans City Marina where we were to leave Detour for a few weeks while we returned to our homes to recuperate. I called the marina and learned we only a few hundred yards from the correct entrance and we made our way to our slip. We did make pictures on the way in that will illustrate some of the disaster aftermath.
We had a slip number that had been assigned to us when I reserved the berth. I moved through the marina until I found the slip and true to our recent experience, there was boat there already. Oh well shouldn't be a big problem, I thought, someone forgot to remember we were coming. There was one slip open in the marina and as I pulled into it I begin to wonder if it was empty because something big and dangerous had been deposited there in the storm. However, it seemed to be clear and we tied up and made our way to the temporary marina office; a FEMA trailer pulled in to replace the office that had been blown away. 
I had used my credit card to reserve the slip and talked with a lady named Judy. Mickey and I entered the trailer and asked for Judy. The marina manager, she had a name tag that said manager, informed us that Judy wasn't there and that we didn't have a slip. I reminded her that I had used a credit card to reserve a slip a few weeks before and she said, and I quote, "you must not have heard, we had a hurricane". I became somewhat upset and I can't remember exactly the words I used but it was something like... "you're going to give me a place to put this boat until I can get back to get it or your going to have another sunk boat in your harbor because I'm going to knock a hole in the bottom and give it to you". She said, it can stay for a while but not long. I said fine and Mickey and I left.
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