Day 3, 18 miles - Willies Hidden Marina to Prescott Island

If the roofs a rockin'.... 

"That wake has White caps," Kyle exclaimed. We were all relaxing on the roof of the cabin when the small tsunami hit. I was working on my laptop, Emily was on the phone receiving the news of an engagement of one of her friends and thankfully Kyle was paying attention to our surroundings. The warning came just seconds before the first wave hit us broadside. We were all on our knees immediately and involuntarily. The bucking of the boat was amplified on top of the cabin and we felt as though we might be thrown overboard as we shifted our weight from side to side. Luckily the only thing we lost was a chair so I went diving for lost treasure. Six feet down I scored.

Day 2, 15.5 Miles - 1 Mile above Confluence to Willies Hidden Harbor below St. Paul

The flag flies proud

St. Paul

The first close call

Thank you Uncle Ben. You may have saved four lives today. We were negotiating the currents and barge traffic very well as we passed through downtown St. Paul. That is until we came to a bridge that spanned the river and created a very narrow channel between a Pillar and a retaining wall on the left. There were several pillars to the right where the bridge was too low to allow tows to pass beneath so we headed in that direction but the upstream current that circled around from behind the bridge was too strong to row against. Stealthily, we peered around the pillar scouting for north-bound traffic and found the coast to be clear so we went for it. Kyle and I each had an oar to maximize speed and quench the vulnerable situation as quickly as possible. We couldn't of had more than 20 yards to the other side of the passage but it was still nerve racking. Directly under the bridge we encountered what seemed to be an artificial bore tide. We theorized about what could be creating the anomaly and were deep in discussion when a 15 barge tow pulled out of dock directly in-front of us. Kyle and I sprung into action like we were paddling class V. I furiously pulled on both oars trying to negotiate the Big Getter as close to the pillar as possible. With all the agility of a gymnast and the speed of a superhero Kyle bound through the cabin to the stern of the boat. He dropped the outboard and yanked the starter. He yanked again, and then with urgency commanded "get down here Hyfte" I panted and pulled and yelled to Kyle "get it going." I had my sights trained on the tow, pillar and current like a three eyed chameleon. The tow had halved the distance between us and although it was still a hundred yards away it was less than two minutes away from crushing us with ease. My tension grew black. I felt desperate. The short distance between us and safety seemed to be a never ending hallway from some horror flick. Hyfte flew down the ladder and immediately went through his mental check list of engine knowledge. Being a Minnesotan he had considerably more experience with motor sports than the rest of us. He quickly found the problem and yanked hard like a stage coach driver cracking his whip. The engine roared, my heart took a calming breath and we glided to safety. I don't think the tow captain ever saw us.

Second night's camp site

Day 1, 10 Miles - Rigging / Minnesota river 11 Miles Above Confluence to 1 Mile above Confluence

It took us the better part of two days to assemble the boat. I couldn't have done it without all the help. Thanks everyone. Russell A. Sorenson Landing proved to be a great put-in. Although it's not on the Mississippi it is only eleven short miles up the Minnesota River. There wasn't too much boat traffic, which was good considering we took up half the landing. All the weekend warriors were out and very curious about the Big Getter. Everyone stared, either in an I'm-jealous sorta way or because they thought we were crazy. One man walked up and said, "well you ain't gonna sink are you"? It was nice to have someone appreciate the seaworthiness of the craft. Everyone took photos, asked questions or offered to help. All the attention was fun, but we weren't the only spectacle at the boat ramp this weekend. At one point a young couple backed the trailer down to the river to off-load their boat. The woman stayed in the boat to keep it out of harms way while the guy drove the truck up the ramp to park it. Unfortunately for the boat, the bowline had come unwound and tangled around the tow hitch so as the pick-up was driven at a speed expected from a drunk teenager the young woman was helplessly pulled behind, too scared even to scream. We all yelled for him to stop but the boat had slid fifteen feet up the ramp before it came to rest and the color had returned to the lady's face. We shoved off without a hitch and waved good by to the half dazen people who had come to see us off. Although we tested out the oars, sweeps and the outboard we mostly just drifted. I felt fortunate to have such good friends with me and as the banks passed by us we reveled in the uniqueness of building a boat and setting sail.

Availability as of May 31

Maiden Voyage

Who is that elegant dame?

“What are you going to call your boat”? “Does she have a name yet”? These were questions I was asked long before I even started construction and she hadn’t a name yet. I felt a little embarrassed to have to say “no” but I wanted a suitable name and one that I was proud of. Some folks offered suggestions like “Huck II” or “Muddy Mississippi” one man even asked me if the boat’s name was for sale. The boat’s name however was not for sale nor did any of the suggested names really grab me. So, just like a virgin tattoo wearer searching for the most meaningful design, I waited. In fact I thought the chances were good that I would be miles downstream before a befitting name would take hold.
One afternoon about a month ago, I heard my Grandpa Marvin say, “Well, like my Grandma Alexander always said: The worst thing of all is to go through life with a great big wanter and a little bitty getter. So keep your getter bigger than your wanter”. This was an anecdote that I had heard all my life but I still chuckled because it’s such a funny saying and because it’s so simply true. Then my chuckle grew silent and was replaced by a smile that could have been seen by the people sitting behind me. I finally had a name that was as obvious as the perm-a-grin it gave me, “Big Getter.”

Proposed Itinerary

This Itinerary will change, not drastically but before you make travel plans we should talk. You can reach me by email at: justusmclarty@yahoo.com or by phone at: 646-671-6167.

Click on images to enlarge.

Rock hard and baby blue

It’s true that the pontoons are used but at least they weren’t put up wet, or else I would have had even more maintenance to do. Over the last couple months I’ve put in a few weeks of work and love getting the tubes beautiful and up to par. The first phase was to sand all of the old paint off. One of the pontoons used to be silver and the other one was white. The paint on both was cracking and in need of a new coat. I did most of the sanding in my grandfathers driveway with a belt sander and a palm sander for those hard-to-reach-places. The two large objects attracted a lot of rubber necking and more than once curious onlookers stopped to inquire. One fellow asked, “are them silos or missiles”? After about a week of straining my forearms and sneezing neoprene paint I had both pontoons smooth as silk and stripped down to their natural grey skin. Next I started patching. The first step was to locate the leaks. I did this by spraying a light coat of soapy water on the tubes, and then marking where bubbles formed with a red magic marker. Once the suds had gone I was left with a daunting number of patches (I wont tell you how many) but I persistently went to work cutting out patches and mixing glue. Most of the leaks were just pinholes that I knew weren’t top priority but I wanted to patch as much as possible before I painted the tubes. I also put on some preventative patches for extra protection against rubbing. Well, the work has paid off because now the tubes don’t leak which equates to less pumping once we are afloat. By the time you see the pontoons they will be rock hard and baby blue.

Running Shuttle. How do I get back to where I started?

Well, here are some suggestions:

1) Buy a round trip ticket to a city near your starting point or ending point. Look into bus service (Greyhound covers many of the small towns that I will pass through www.greyhound.com/locations/locations.asp) to get you from your arrival city to the put-in or from the take-out back to your arrival city.
2) Buy a round trip ticket to a city near your starting point or ending point. Explore the possibility of renting a car and do one of two things; either leave it where you meet me and then hitch or bus back to your car, OR arrange with another party who might be taking off where you are putting in to take the rental car back. This of course would take some coordinating.
3) Buy 2 one-way tickets arriving and departing from 2 different cities.
4) The easiest way is to have a friend or family member pick you up and/or drop you off. I’ve offered beer, massages and money in the past and they all seemed to work well.

5) If you are traveling with someone else you could rent 2 cars and run your own shuttle by leaving one car at the take-out and then both of you taking the second car to the put-in. The convenience could be worth the extra cost.

I will assist in any way I can.

Is there a fee?

No there is not a charge. I just want as much company as possible. I will however ask that you bring food for yourself or maybe enough for a group meal.