Galveston, The Moody yacht and stuck In Lake Charles

Around noon, I left East Matagorda Bay and headed out to Galveston.  This part of the trip was entirely on a protected land cut and the wind was no longer a factor.  Just East of Matagorda Bay was a draw bridge with a “small boat” section that was barely wide enough for my boat to fit through.  This allowed the operators to quickly open and shut a portion of the bridge to get boats like mine through with the least interruption to traffic.

On the way to Galveston, I found myself low on oil and pulled over at a marina in Freeport, Texas.  Unfortunately my Evenrude 115 required Evenrude oil and no one, it seemed, on the ICW carried it.  My disappointment was obvious and Mike the Mechanic offered to take me to Wal-Mart in his truck.  There seemed to be an endless supply of people willing to help me out when I needed it.

What was supposed to take 30 minutes turned into a 2 hour ordeal and I bought Mike lunch at a Sonic drive in.

Next stop, Galveston and my friend Jack Schubert’s house, Casa Rosa, in a beautiful area called Pirates Beach.  Jack and I have been friends since I helped recruit him into my fraternity, SAE, at SMU in Dallas.

That night we had a few beers at a new “happening” bar called The Spot.  Then we had Gumbo at a restaurant called Gumbos.

The next morning I left and headed East towards Beaumont, Texas but realized I was short on gas.  I stopped at a marina near the middle of the Galveston ship channel, right next to downtown Galveston. 

I met a group of guys that were also gassing up and one was a professor at Texas A&M University that wrote books about America’s great rivers.  He encouraged me to document my trip. 

As I began to put gas on my boat I noticed that the pump read 1,000 gallons and $3,500.  When I paid for my gas, I asked the attendant if the amount was for real and if so, who used that much.  She pointed to a mammoth yacht that had just parked near me.  She said that they used two other pumps as well and swiveled the cash register display to show me a charge of $9,600.  It was the Moody family yacht.  Moody Gardens, a popular tourist destination on Galveston was named for them. 

The middle of the Galveston ship channel was a busy place.

Crossing Galveston Bay was a cinch since the wind was non existent and because I have crossed it many times before.  I really felt at home. 

Once in the land cut on the way to Port Arthur, just South of Beaumont, I had a great idea.  I should shoot my gun.  So I turned off the engine and drifted, looking for a target.  Unfortunately there was nothing but a mud embankment with grass on top.  I unloaded six rounds in the mud embankment.  Only one bullet caused dirt to fly and I was very disappointed.  I reloaded and looked again for a target.  I noticed a small bird in the distance and pulled off another 6 shots.  The bird was unfazed. 

On my way to Port Arthur I came upon another ICW pleasure boater.  I pulled up beside him and I found that he was traveling from Freeport to Port Arthur, probably 100 miles.  And I got to say what everyone had been saying to me, “you came all that way in that?”.

Port Arthur is a deep water port surrounded by refineries and other industrial facilities with lots of barge traffic and tankers.

I looked ahead and spotted a tanker passing in front of me.  I was surprised to see such a big boat in my path.

I turned left into the ship channel and zipped past the tanker.  It was cool to pass so close to such a big boat.

I decided to cut my engine, drift and have lunch in the middle of the port.  I carried sandwich, meat, bread, mayo and chips for a tasty lunch.

After lunch I turned my attention to Lake Charles and meeting my high school friend Mark Politz. 

The water in Louisiana became soupy calm and bayou like.  The barge traffic became even heavier, sometimes having to dart in between them.

Barges everywhere.

Then into the Lake Charles ship channel, another deep water port and more tankers up close.

My friend Mark found a marina for me to tie up in and brought me to his house.  I had a great dinner with him and his wife and went to bed early wary of approaching storms.

The forecast for the remainder of the trip to New Orleans was for thunderstorms.  While there were few bays to cross, I did not relish the idea of going into the swamps of Louisiana while fighting storms.  I have this fear of alligators.  I was physically and emotionally fatigued and I started to think that this might be a good place to end the first leg of my trip.  I had come 450 miles in 7 days and knew that trying to complete the remaining 250 miles would be too much.  I had bitten off a little more than I could chew.

There were no racks in Lake Charles to store my boat out of the water and under cover but I found a ship repair yard that would put it up on blocks and let me keep it there for $60 a month.  The price was right so I made my way to the end of a bayou to the ship yard. They pulled my boat out of the water with a big rolling tractor with two canvas slings.  I bought a blue tarp to wrap the boat in but almost passed out from the heat making it work.  Thankfully Mark came to my aid or they may have found me comatose under that tarp. 

So my trip came to an early end and, frankly, I was a bit relieved.  I will be back in the fall to make my way to New Orleans.  This time I won’t go so far in such a short period.  Hopefully I will do more fishing, eat more seafood and take a little more time to enjoy the voyage.