Hazel: Fueled by Peppers, Running on Fumes

Thursday kicked off with another stellar breakfast courtesy of camp chef Peter Darula: eggs, hot dogs, and grilled chili peppers. Honestly, it doesn’t get much better when you’re launching into a day that might test every ounce of planning and patience.

But before we dive into today’s adventure, let’s rewind a bit.

You may have noticed the photo count has dropped. That’s thanks to a perfect storm of electrical hiccups and cord casualties. Hazel’s inverter, our magical device that converts DC battery power into AC for plug-ins, decided to take a break. It’s a brilliant piece of gear for a sailboat, but it adds complexity. And complexity, as we’ve learned, loves company.

Enter the cord crisis: both of my iPhone charging cables gave up the ghost. I’ve read countless sailor blogs warning to pack quadruple backups. Did I listen? Nope. Peter’s Samsung cord works fine for his phone, but we were relying on my iPad for navigation and my iPhone for family comms. With both out of commission, I’ve resorted to stealing Peter’s charger and balancing my phone on the magnetic pad like a desperate game of Jenga. It works, barely, for the phone. The iPad? No dice. So now, our navigation system is a glorified telephone. Manageable, but not ideal. Lesson learned.

If you caught our last update, you’ll remember we passed through St. Louis at night, missing our final fuel stop at Hoppis Marina. And by “Marina,” I mean a barge with a pump, no tiki bars or poolside cabanas here. The entire river service infrastructure is, let’s say, minimalist. That’s being generous.

From Hoppis to Memphis, there’s no fuel. None. We’ve crunched the numbers, re-crunched them, and then stared at them hoping they’d change. If we make it to Memphis, it’ll be on fumes. If we don’t… well, stay tuned. Our strategy: throttle down, ride the current, and conserve every drop. Prayers welcome. Between here and Memphis, the Mississippi is a true no man’s land.

So Thursday morning arrived, and we figured: let’s start strong. Good breakfast, good mindset, and off we go. Decision made, we’re running for Memphis.

In today’s photos, you’ll spot the confluence where the Illinois River joins the Mississippi. Hazel’s port side now faces Kentucky, while her starboard side bids farewell to Missouri.

Spirits remain high, though the repair list grows. Most fixes happen after sundown, when the river quiets and we can focus.

Quick status check:

• Shower sump pump is out. We’re not exactly a fragrant crew.

• Inverter’s down: no internet, no AC power, no laptops.

• iPad’s uncharged: navigation is now a phone-based guessing game.

Tonight’s mission: fix the inverter. I installed it, so fingers crossed I can un-break it. Maybe that’s the problem? Ha! If anyone has an Amazon drone handy, we’d love a dozen iPhone cords and 20 gallons of diesel. Just saying.

Still, spirits are solid. Because even a rough day on the river beats a good one anywhere else. Oh, and Hazel hit 9.5 knots today. For this sailboat, that’s practically warp speed. Sailors will laugh, but we’re calling it a win.

Below is about the prettiest shot I’ve managed to capture of Kentucky from the Mississippi so far, though I’ll be honest, their shoreline has been pretty rough. Not much charm to speak of. This one’s a rare gem in an otherwise rugged stretch.

(Authors Note: I’m about to marry a Kentuckian, so as the writer, I’m contractually obligated to say it’s not that bad. Plus, I happen to be in Kentucky right now, so let’s just call this a diplomatic edit)

The shoreline is littered with old, fully operational barges. I also snapped a photo of a pilot station, one of the many marina stops along the Mississippi where river captains board or disembark their tugboats to begin shifts that last a day, a week, or even a month. These stations are scattered all along the river, quietly powering its daily rhythm.

Here’s a shot of our updated navigation setup, definitely a shift from what I’ve shared before. It’s not fancy, but it gets the job done. Functional enough for river miles and improvisation.

In the first photo below, I had to capture this tug for two reasons: first, it was genuinely a beautiful vessel, sleek, powerful, and striking on the water. Second, it was pushing what’s now the standard barge configuration on the Mississippi: a massive setup of 28 to 32 units. These tugs churn the river with such force, the waves they generate are unlike anything I’ve seen. I can only imagine the sheer tonnage a 32-unit barge hauls, it’s staggering to think about the scale of what moves quietly past us every day.

In the second photo, look closely, you’ll spot square tiles laid along the riverbank, each about 3 by 3 feet. It’s astonishing to think about the labor force that must have installed these, stretching mile after mile along the Mississippi’s edge. The sheer scale of it feels almost unimaginable. It’s one of those quiet feats of infrastructure that you’d never notice unless you were right here, drifting past it.

As I mentioned, the day began with a fantastic breakfast, and it ended just as well. Dinner was Peter’s culinary remix: he took a base of Dinty Moore stew and elevated it with his own fiery twist, hot chili lima beans. It was surprisingly excellent, especially after a long day on the river.

Now we’re settled just south of Hickman, Kentucky, hoping tomorrow brings smooth sailing and enough fuel discipline to coax Hazel a bit farther downstream. Lastly, I’ve included a photo of Peter working very hard, or at least sitting very hard.