Hazel: Memphis

Memphis dead ahead! I’ve got eyes on it! But before we roll into town, we’ve got a bit of river choreography to pull off: a 30-footer heading downstream, another 30-footer coming up, and Hazel caught smack in the middle of a squeeze play. The channel’s no ballroom, it’s tight.

That striking arch up ahead is the Hernando De Soto Bridge, Memphis’s unofficial welcome mat. At night, they light it up like a showpiece, it’s a stunning sight.

We lucked out with a secure overnight spot to refill and top off our water, tucked in right beside the local police, who kept us company all night. (Talk about VIP parking!) You’ll see a few notes about my Aldi run with Peter—well, here’s the bounty he returned with. And this morning? We kicked things off with a breakfast so good it lifted everyone’s spirits sky-high. A delicious start to the day and then some.

This stretch of river showcases a striking lineup of bridges, each with its own story. The Frisco Bridge stands as a historic railroad icon, flanked by the Harahan Bridge, originally built to carry both trains and cars. Then there’s the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge, affectionately known as the “Old Bridge,” dedicated to auto traffic. Together, they form a beautiful architectural trio, side-by-side across the water.

Not sure if this will pique anyone’s interest, but I found it fascinating: this is how barges load liquid cargo: ammonia, diesel, fertilizers, oils. You can see three large tubes extending from the shoreline, feeding into specialized technical barges designed for each type of liquid. I snapped a photo just because it looked so cool.

I’ve also added a shot of another Army Corps of Engineers tug alongside a massive dredging setup. Lastly, the photo doesn’t quite capture the scale, but those structures lining the riverbank are wing dams, stretching into the Mississippi like a giant caterpillar hugging the shore.

The American Melody was docked beside the FITZ Casino & Hotel in Tunica, Mississippi, a unique overnight pairing of riverboat charm and neon-lit hospitality. This stop was part of the American Melody’s 14-day, one-way journey down the Mississippi River, sailing from Minneapolis–Saint Paul to New Orleans. Along the way, the itinerary included iconic ports like Hannibal and St. Louis in Missouri; Memphis Tennessee and Tunica Mississippi; and continued south through Vicksburg, Natchez, and Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Pete’s been captivated by the sheer amount of sand lining the Mississippi, it’s everywhere. At times, it feels less like a river journey through the heartland and more like a cruise down the Nile, with stretches of sand on both sides giving off serious desert vibes.

Yes, we were literally walking in Memphis! We made it to Mud Island Marina, and the name fits the place perfectly. But what truly made the stop memorable was John, the marina owner. He’s one of those rare souls with a generous heart and a can-do spirit. We arrived running on fumes, and he didn’t hesitate, he topped off our diesel, filled our water tanks, and even drove us to Aldi for a much-needed grocery run. As if that weren’t enough, he surprised us back at the dock with Domino’s pizza. A class act through and through. Meeting John was one of those unexpected gifts this journey keeps offering.

If you’ve been following this blog, you know Peter and I have been sharing this floating home for weeks now. Life in close quarters has its moments, but we’ve found our rhythm. That said, I may never grocery shop with Pete again. He’s like a kid in a candy store, every aisle is a new adventure. “We gotta have it!” he says, tossing things into the cart with gleeful abandon. There’s a method to his madness, I’m sure, but it’s wrapped in a whole lot of chaos. I stepped back and let him go for it, because truth be told, the man can cook. If it were up to me, we’d be eating tuna three times a day. Somehow, we balance each other out. I did mention the Aldi total to my wife, and she flat-out refused to believe it. “No one can spend that much at Aldi,” she said. We’ll just keep that number between us.

As for Memphis itself, it wasn’t a highlight, more of a pit stop to refuel and restock. We’re not marina people. We prefer the rhythm of the river: moving by day, anchoring by night. There’s something oddly comforting about Hazel rocking gently with the passing barges. She feels alive out there. Tied to a dock, she loses a bit of her spirit, and maybe we do too.

But for now, spirits are high. Tanks are full. The fridge and freezer are packed, and every spare cabinet is stuffed with non-perishables. We’re just North of Helena, Arkansas, ready for whatever the river brings next.