This would make a great ad for Fed Ex. A lone truck boarding a cable ferry in the swamp. Is there really anyone at the end of that road? By the way, those cable ferries are scary. When they start, the cable pops out of the water about 4 feet from one side of the ICW all the way to the other side. Could be painful at 40 MPH if you failed to notice it.
Now this is a house boat. Blow it up and note the two boats tied to the back and the party on the porch as they slowly move along the ICW.
Morgan City was heavily industrial but just beyond it was some of the most beautiful bayou-like scenery.
It was a little spooky though because there was no shore line...just trees, stumps and, most likely, alligators. After that the ICW became soupy and swampy.
I docked at a public marina in Houma. It was a tidy little park under the highway but it was in a dicey part of town and I hauled more off the boat than usual. A couple of sail boats were making the trip from Houston to New Orleans. The boats were their hotels. They got up and left the next morning earlier than me but I saw them two more times including crossing the Mississippi from my hotel room in New Orleans.
I was a little disappointed in Houma. There weren't any hotels in the quaint little downtown where most of the bars and restaurants were. The closest hotel to downtown was the local house of prostitution. My cab driver laughed and said if you don't want any, just don't answer the door. I chose the Best Western. There was a bar with a country and western band playing and a very good seafood restaurant. Perfect.
The trip between Houma and New Orleans was very industrial again with shipbuilding prevalent.
Along the way I found a nice spot to slow down a bit and do some fishing. It seemed I was always in a hurry to get to the next destination, either because of the weather or the sun going down. I never caught a fish. I plan to make up for that just East of New Orleans in the beautiful Biloxi Marsh as I will keep my boat there for the winter.
I was a bit nervous because fast boats coming down the ICW couldn't see me and slow down. I could get swamped. I had my air horn close by. Then I heard this incredibly loud roar. My heart almost stopped. But it was just air boats nearby.
It was getting dark and I still had about an hour drive to New Orleans. I didn't have time to cross the Mississippi that day and there were no marinas on the West side of the river. I had Googled shipyards on that side when I was in Houma and an owner of one, John Dean, was nice enough to say I could tie up to a barge at his place, about a mile from the river.
Looks like an air boat club. Can't they make those things quieter?
Just outside of New Orleans was a very affluent area called Jean Lafitte on Bayou Barataria. Rarely did you see that kind of upscale neighborhood right on the ICW.
Riverboat gambling just west of the Mississippi River and New Orleans.
I made it to John Dean's shipyard, tied up to a barge and caught a cab to the Marriott in the French Quarter. The other shipyards I called wouldn't let me tie up because of liability. John took a chance and I was very grateful.
There was a convention hosting bankruptcy judges from throughout the US. Coincidentally I have some friends in that business and I met two of them for drinks at the Hilton in the French Quarter. Jeff Jones is a turnaround specialist and lives in Dallas. We went to SMU together. John Duck is a bankruptcy attorney that lives not far from where my boat was tied up. They were hosting parties for the people at the convention and it was great to see them on my trip.
It was time. Time to cross the Mississippi and Lake Pontchartrain. I was very anxious. John Duck who grew up on the Mississippi said it "scared him to death". I did not think it would take that long and I didn't leave until around noon. I was wrong, I almost had to cross that huge lake in the dark. That would not have been good. It started with a delay outside the Mississippi lock for almost an hour as I waited until they late a barge pass through.
Once in the lock, the doors close behind you.
You tie your boat to a buckle about 5 feet above you.
Then the doors close in front of you and you are in a box waiting for it to fill about 4 feet. Needless to say I was nervous but the lock master was with me on on channel 13 of my VHF and he was assuring me it was no big deal.
Then the doors open wide and there it is. As I nervously moved out I discovered perhaps the calmest body of water I had encountered. I was greatly relieved.
As I entered the lock, to my surprise, not one but two big tugs joined me. I wasn't too big on that and the moment the doors opened I was out quickly.
This is a jack up bridge. As you have seen there are bridges everywhere and they all cross at water level so the engineers have to be creative in getting automobile and train traffic over the water while allowing for the passage of ships, big and small. No wonder the barges are low and long.
As I waited for the bridge to raise a tug got a little uncomfortably close.
After passing through the bridge I headed left for Lake Pontchartrain but the route was blocked by a lock being reinforced to provide greater hurricane protection. Everywhere you looked you could see money pouring into the waterways as added protection from storms. But before I headed East to avoid the obstruction I stopped at a marina with stacked storage similar to the one in Brownsville. It looked perfect for long term storage but I had committed to one across the lake n Slidell.
I thought I had just enough gas to get me across the lake to but, at the last minute, decided to fill up. Thank goodness because the trip was much longer than I thought and worrying about running out of both gas and sunlight while crossing that monster of a lake would have been way too stressful.
As I swung East around the lake to another entry point, I passed one of the most appealing areas of the ICW I had encountered. Miles and miles of grassy marsh called the Biloxi Marsh. I was later told it is some of the best fishing on the Gulf. I may have to keep my boat in this area longer than I thought.
Right before I entered the lake, I passed through yet another design for a bridge, the swing bridge.
I made a mistake. I passed under the bridges beyond the underpass. I10 was not a problem, Highway 11 was lower but I made it through. As I slowly approached the railroad bridge I could see that if the water was calm I would have had difficulty getting under it. I stuck my bow under and a big wave pushed it to the bottom of the bridge. If I had made a run at it, I would have been trapped underneath and swamped. I turned and ran the length between the two bridges fighting the waves back South until I got to the underpass and, thankfully, the train bridge was open. I quickly shot through. The remaining distance, about 3 miles, was brutally rough. My boat came out of the water several times with violent crashes into the swells. Good grief. I couldn't imagine what it would be like in a storm.
I was so happy to enter the bayou that would take me to the Slidell Marina but my phone was on the dash and the rough ride had rendered it unable to be turn on. The bayou split, to the left was Bayou Bonfouca and to the left was Bayou Liberty. I didn't know which would take me to the marina and I knew if I chose the wrong one I wouldn't make it back before dark..and I couldn't call my friend, John Desilva, who was to pick me up or the marina. One fisherman, incorrectly, sent me left. Luckily another directed me, correctly, to the right. The trip up the bayou was spectacular. I even passed a house with a sea plane in the garage. Hurricane Katrina landed East of New Orleans and dealt Slidell a direct hit but it was hard to tell that from the looks of this neighborhood.
I arrived at the marina just as it turned dark. Mary Eirich and her husband Sonny, the owners of the Marina and the fabulous restaurant attached to it called Nathen's, had been waiting for me like worried parents. I was able to access their wireless internet and find John's number. I used the marina's phone and let John know I had arrived. John and his lovely wife, Susan, live about 30 miles away in Covington, La. and they both came over to pick me up. I had known John and Susan since the early 80s when John and I worked together in Dallas.
It was a beautiful evening and we decided to eat at Nathan's. Nathan's owner and chef is Ross Eirich, Mary's son. Ross was previously the executive chef of the famous French Quarter restaurant called Galatoire's and the meal was five star. It was a perfect way to spend the last evening of the second leg of my trip.
The next day John, his brother-an-law and I took a pleasure cruise down the bayou.
After that, John drove me to the airport. I left with a great sense of accomplishment. I had travelled more than 750 miles over some of the most spectacular waterways in the country. Someone even bet $100 that I wouldn't make it to Galveston.
Now I will leave the boat here at least until next Summer but return between now and then as often as my job and the weather will allow so I can fish the great Biloxi Marsh. Then it is on to Florida.
I can't wait to come back!
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