Two Weeks on Hazel: Somewhere Between Fresh Start and Funk

It’s hard to believe we’ve been aboard Hazel for two weeks. In some ways, it feels like we just waved goodbye to Lake City. In others, particularly if you rank time by scent, it feels like we’ve been living on this boat far too long.

Last night brought a small but mighty victory: we fixed the inverter! That means we’re back online and can finally use our regular household items that require AC power and do not rely on 12V.

Barge traffic has picked up, and so has the scale. Today we witnessed a 5x7 configuration: 35 barge units pushed by a single tug. The wake it created could make a surfer weep with joy. Forget the green room, this was the mudroom, and it was glorious.

We’ve made solid progress toward Memphis.

Arkansas now floats off our starboard side, Tennessee off our port. The scenery? Let’s just say it’s consistent. This stretch of the Mississippi is all business, no pleasure craft in sight for three days, and not a single sailboat since Cairo. We’re a rare breed out here.

The infrastructure supporting river commerce is nothing short of remarkable. Wing dams, dredging operations, levee walls, it’s a masterclass in engineering. This river doesn’t just move boats; it moves the nation. Grains, coal, scrap metal.. everything flows through this artery, feeding, fueling, and cleaning up after America.

We make a point to communicate with every barge captain we pass. Safety is key. We radio ahead to share our course, using the old sailing shorthand: “Captain, I’ll be on your one” (port-to-port) or “Captain, I’ll be on your two” (starboard-to-starboard). It’s simple, effective, and keeps everyone calm.

As for fuel? Let’s just say we’re operating on faith. Measuring it won’t make more appear. Memphis is on the horizon, maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. Maybe under our own power, or maybe with a helpful tug nudging us along.

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In the first photo, we captured what we thought was an impressive sight, a barge formation measuring 5 by 6, totaling 30 units. But just twenty minutes later, along came a behemoth: 5 by 7, a staggering 35 units, as shown in the second image. The tugboats pushing these giants are equally massive, churning up waves that ripple across the river like something out of a surf documentary.

I know I’ve shared plenty of tugboat photos by now, but these two might just be my favorites. Each one has a sort of crow’s nest built high atop the wheelhouse, an elevated perch that gives the crew a commanding view as they navigate up and down the river. It’s part lookout, part throne, and all business.

Another recurring sight in these blogs: the wing dams. Peter and I have a running joke that China’s Great Wall has nothing on the mighty Mississippi. These rock formations stretch endlessly, lining the river from Missouri all the way to New Orleans. The sheer volume of stone laid into this waterway could build a dozen Great Walls, and still have leftovers for a few pyramids. It’s a testament to the scale and significance of this river’s infrastructure.

If you really want to grasp how wildly the Mississippi winds its way to the Gulf, just check our compass, it’s pointing due north, 000. That’s right: to go south, we’re heading north. It’s completely counterintuitive. The river twists and loops so much, it feels like we’re riding a snake with a mind of its own. There are stretches where, after an hour of steady travel, we’ve made zero southern progress. It’s a masterclass in meandering.

Let’s talk wildlife, specifically, the stretch after St. Louis. Since passing through, we’ve spotted just three deer and about six eagles. That’s it. Compared to the upper Mississippi, where migratory birds filled the skies and shoreline, this section feels almost deserted. The abundance has given way to scarcity, and the river here seems to hum with industry more than nature.

We cruised past Arcosa Marine, where barges are born, both the familiar cargo giants and the more specialized technical ones. Once a barge is complete, they launch it in dramatic fashion, sliding it down massive steel ramps straight into the river. It’s industrial choreography at its finest, and as the photo shows, it’s quite a sight to behold

We also passed Century Casino in Caruthersville, an experience that made us appreciate our local casino all the more. The effort back home to enhance the surrounding area really stands out in contrast. This one, well… let’s just say it’s not winning any awards for curb appeal.

And finally, here’s the Caruthersville Bridge. At this point in the journey, bridge clearance is no longer a concern. In fact, we haven’t seen a bridge in the past five days that wasn’t towering at least 100 feet above the water. It’s a welcome shift, no more ducking or calculating mast height, just smooth sailing beneath these giants.