July 25th. Marina Cove to Gainsville Dam Heflin Lock

At 7 am I was in and out of Beville Lock, #9 of 12 locks. I averaged about 4.6 knots for a short 7 and a half hour,37.5 mile day. At about 9:40 am I stopped dead to inch under some overhead cables that were not on the Corps of Engineers charts, but had obviously been there a long time judging from the kudzu growing all over the poles, man they really looked low. For the past several days I had been worrying myself to death about the depth of the entrance to the only viable anchorage listed in my Nitty Gritty Tenn-Tom river guide book. The book said I had about 6 feet at normal pool and at least one of the lock operators told me he believed we were below normal pool at that spot, and I need at least 6 feet. At one point I had to tell myself to just stop freaking out, council I should give myself more often. So I poured over those childish charts for more options and thought I might have luck near the Heflin lock where there looked like a big fat cut off to the Gainsville Dam. Go figure Deep water near a dam, fucking genius. So going down the river in a rare pocket of cell reception I decided to call the author of my new found river bible, and to my amazement he was there and more than willing to consult his charts which he has used for no fewer than 18 runs up and down the waterway to publish as many editions of his guide. He agreed that the cut off was a possibility but did not publish such places as anchoring there relied on weather or not they would be spilling water off the dam which would create unsafe currents.
So I bypassed the published anchorage that had driven me to increased consumption of Crown Royal, and inched into the deep -ass cut off to Gainsville dam. Nice and deep but relatively narrow. I tried to deploy two anchors but found as soon as the storm I had been running from found me that only one anchor held and the wind swung me around to within about 20 feet of the leeward bank. Too close for comfort so I pulled anchor and pushed to the edge of the channel where I had just enough swing room. The engine running above normal temperature had been bothering me so I resolved to attack the problem. The Moyer Marine shop manual suggested that the problem may be a clogged hose. I didn't have a clogged one but did have one that had almost been sawed in half by a loose alternator belt. I had noticed it before but thought as long as it wasn't leaking no problem, but now I noticed some moisture around the worn part. Before working this time I did remember to remove my watch as the last time I was working around the starter my all stainless watchband completed the circuit between the terminals on the starter which sparked like hell, welded the clasp shut on the band and burnt the shit out of my wrist. I was now thankful for the miles of extraneous hose I was cursing when I was stowing all my gear for the trip. Replacing that section of hose seemed to have done the trick. So I celebrated by tucking into some Crown Royal and dined on my gigantic Kirkland bag of dried fruit and nuts. And wrote in my log as I got stewed.
Another hot night on the hook, cabin about 90 degrees at sundown, watched the sunset and thought of my honey as I sipped some crown. Then the mosquitoes force me below. I get the screens all pulled tight and only use the led lights but they seem to still get in, "impossible", I think. Start to wonder if there is a domestic malaria, and to worry about West Nile. "Whatever happened to the Kulex mosquito we used to worry about growing up in Houston."
I think about Dan, my friend who walked from Mexico to Canada, just no comparison. I also think of Lewis and Clark and the poor bastards that worked on this canal. When I think I've got it rough I think of them and laugh at myself. I'm in a water Winnebago with enough food for a small country, enough drinking water to float my boat and all I do all day is sit on my ass and putt down the river. In fact my biggest discomfort during the day, besides the heat, is my ass getting sore from sitting on it. But I do wonder why my ankles are so swollen all the time.