“A picture’s worth a thousand words”

As soon as the word spread that I was an official published author (Living Aboard Magazine Nov/Dec Issue) I began to feel a twinge of writers block. Then, after the “It’ll Work Out” update came a threatening phone call from our video producer . “WE NEED MORE DRAMA!” Nick James demanded. That totally locked me up. I longed for the feeling of writer’s anonymity. The river days turned into weeks, and the pressure built. Sure, we were having a fantastic time, enjoying every minute of the adventure. Each new day I anticipated that something significant would happen to inspire a good story. The rain finally ended, a bright sun came out, temperatures warmed up, and the scenery was absolutely gorgeous. But you can only write so many flowery, colorful descriptions before readers get bored. Our daily routine was simple and thankfully drama-free. Awake at dawn, get underway, have warming oatmeal for breakfast, be prepared for the next lock, and look forward to snuggling in our bunk shortly after sunset. We cherished each moment of peaceful solitude. But everyone’s already heard this story before. So Gary and Lori really, really love being together. Blah blah blah blah blah. After days and nights of locking, docking, and anchoring together, fellow cruisers (and even their dogs) evolved into special friends. As each long day on the water came to an end, we shared a sense of accomplishment and intimacy, docked close by or rafted off together in secluded anchorages. We enjoyed interesting stories, lots of laughs, delicious food, and abundant libations. But a writer risks losing the audience with stories that you really “had to be there” to enjoy. While every other cruiser on the Tenn-Tom Waterway anguished over Hurricane Ida’s landfall in Mobile Alabama, I secretly rejoiced. Nothing like a hurricane to create drama with a capital D! Finally, an exciting story would come together. Let ‘er rip, Ida! We sought safety in a hurricane hole for three days, and all we got was some rain with maybe twenty knot gusts. What happened to the 60 knot winds? Is that all you got, Ida? What was the point of putting out two anchors, other than to have them foul around each other into a tangled mess? Getting that darn slimy catfish off my hook was the most dramatic thing that happened. Ida let me down. As the Dog River Marina dock master put it, “That li’l thang wan’t nothin. I don’t even board up my house till it’s a category three!” Debbie from here at Turner Marina told me “We’ve had worse summer thunderstorms than that li’l old thing!” So, I guess ya’ll er gonna hafta let the pictures tell the stories. Ya’ll enjoy!