We made it to Lake Charles!

 

 

The Stingaree Curse has been broken

Hello faithful followers.  Much has happened in the last few days, and there is much to cover in today's blog post.  So let's just jump right in:

Highway 124 bridge

First off, naturally, is that we did indeed finally overcome the dreaded Stingaree Curse.  Monday morning, we easily slipped out without anything breaking, and continued on our eastbound journey.  The weather was sunny but chilly, winds light out of the southeast.  lt was about 45 miles to our first planned stop, Taylor Canal, just west of Port Arthur.  Barge traffic was light, and I was able to strike up a couple of fun conversations on the VHF with the tugboat captains.  Along the way, we went under our first bridge, State Highway 124 out of Winnie.

Taylor Canal was nice, but we had made good time, and it was only 2:30 when we got there.  The weather was nice, and it didn't seem right to stop so early in the day.  So we made the decision to press onward to my NEXT potential anchorage on the list:  near Shell Island, right where the Sabine River empties into Sabine Lake, about 20 miles away.

Port Arthur bridge

The ICW in these parts skirts along the western side of Sabine Lake.  (It's really an estuary bay, not a "lake", similar to the also misnamed "Calcasieu Lake".)  Anyway, you got the lake and its barrier islands on the east side and the city of Port Arthur on the west side, for several miles.  Very picturesque, actually, but lots of ships and barges and other commercial traffic.

Southerly view from Shell Island anchorage

Once past the choppy waters of Sabine Lake, we took a little fork to the east to get out of the ICW and head up the river.  We were now straddling the border between Texas and Louisiana.  The water was calm and the banks were lined with trees.  I picked a spot near some trees on the east bank, and sent Joan forward to drop the anchor.  Counting the colored ties I placed every ten feet on the chain, she let out about ninety feet.  Then I goosed the engine in reverse.  Our 35-pound CQR anchor did not budge!

Next, I dropped the stern anchor down, a 24-pound Danforth.  I just let the motion from wind and current stretch out its rode.  Technically, I really didn't have enough scope (the ratio of horizontal to vertical from boat to anchor) on the stern anchor, but having it out was just a little extra safety margin, you know, for the extra-cautious sailor that I am.

anchor riding sail

Next, I rigged up the anchor riding sail I had acquired just for this.  It's a small, maroon-colored sail that flies up over the stern of the boat, to keep it from "fish-tailing" while anchored. 

With all this, Dragonfly was solid and stable as a rock.  Now Joan and I could sit back and savor the moment.  We had just successfully completed our first Official Anchoring at a place where we planned to spend the night.  It was a perfectly marvelous location!  The bridges and refinery towers of Port Arthur were just visible over the southern horizon.   To the west, you could catch a glimpse of the barges and fishing boats in the ICW, a quarter-mile away.  Otherwise, it was as peaceful and tranquil as could be.  What a great place to spend the next day, just chilling, as we watched for a good weather window for the final leg to Lake Charles.

Easterly view from anchorage

And as icing on the cake:  after the sun set, the full moon rose.  It just doesn't get any better!

Now, about that weather thing.  We sailors live and die by the weather, you know.  We were watching the forecasts closely, very cognizant of the fact that Tuesday's outlook was iffy, but Wednesday's was much worse.  Thursday was OK, but that meant that, if we stayed here, we'd be here for THREE NIGHTS.  (We'd already burned one of our "weather hold" nights at Stingaree.)  Nice as it was here, did we really want to wait that long, and what if the weather gods were displeased later in the week?  Those crawfish in Lake Charles on Saturday would not wait for us.

Celebrating a successful anchoring

Tuesday morning at 8:00, we had to make a fast decision:  stay or go?  One last look at the weather forecast, and we made the call:

Go.

We got the boat ready in short order.  (It's a LOT easier from anchor than from a marina; no dock lines, water or electricity hookups, etc.)  The biggest hassle came from my stern anchor.  As I was struggling to pull it up, it seemed to be a lot heavier than it was going down.  When it was finally out of the water, the cause was clear:  the dang thing was completely encased in a humongous gob of sticky, gooey mud.  And we're talking about that black, tar-like river gunk with the adhesive property of Gorilla Glue.  I got off what I could with my bare hands; a more thorough cleaning would have to wait.

Most of the ICW between the Sabine and Calcasieu channels is a 20-mile long stretch that is straight as an arrow and runs east-and-west, perfectly aligned with the compass.  It's a navigational no-brainer; just aim your vessel in the right direction and try not to fall asleep at the wheel.  Ok, it's not that bad.  The banks are mostly lined with trees, and grazing farmland.  The aroma of fresh cow manure was ever-present.  Installing that SiriusXM radio on Dragonfly was one good call, providing critical entertainment.

Ellender drawbridge, opening

At the east end of this endless water highway is the Ellender Bridge, a lift drawbridge on State Highway 27.  My 54-foot-tall mast would require an opening.  A mile from the bridge, I reached the operator on VHF channel 13.  Then we heard a warning horn, and saw the center span start to rise.  The operator radioed me when we were clear to proceed, and I goosed Dragonfly's throttle.  My apologies to the land vehicles who had to wait for me!

Interstate 210 bridge

The journey up the Calcasieu Channel was mostly north-northeast, and we had a nice breeze blowing out of the south.  So we raised up a reefed mainsail to help out our hard-working engine, and save a bit of fuel.  Going under the 130-foot-high Interstate 210 bridge under sail power was way cool!

Casinos in Lake Charles

Anyway, to finish off this saga:  we cut across Lake Charles (the LAKE, not the city), made a beeline to Bord Du Lac Marina, and tied 'er up.  Mission accomplished!  We were, like, the 4th or 5th boat in a marina with slips for about twenty boats.  But we were the only sailboat.

In my next episode, I meet up with my alternate First Mate, Tom.  Then the two of us will SAIL Dragonfly back to Kemah, via the Gulf of Mexico.  Stay tuned!