We had trouble making any time the next day because we stopped at every sandbar in search of treasure. Here's one of the treasures. Ed found this baby mud turtle, captured to his obvious displeasure.
Young Mr. Mud Turtle makes for unusual adornment of Ed's ear. We saw many fine birds. Along with the ubiquitous Kingfishers and elegant and beautiful Great Blue Herons, we also saw a number of Little Blue Herons, Snowy Egrets and Pileated Woodpeckers. But the best sightings were a flock of white ibis and probably a dozen separate sightings of Swallowtail Kites soaring gracefully overhead. Of course, we saw a bunch of crows up and down the river, too, but, who was counting crows? ugh. That was bad.
One of the very interesting aspects of this trip was imagining how the steamboats must have navigated it. There were frequent dead falls out in the middle of what was apparently the channel. The angle at which some were situated would have made them perfect lances to spear the hull of unsuspecting boats. Were there boats or barges that came along to clear those hazards? How many riverboats sank on this river? Additionally, who were the captains who had to keep up with the changes in location of the sandbars. It was easy to see how quickly and often the river shifts its channel. There's probably information out there somewhere � might take some looking into.
As I mentioned, Tom wanted to do some fishing. So, after our short 13 mile day, we decided that the next day we would stop at the first sandbar that looked like a good fishing spot. One of the best ways to catch catfish is "bushhookin." In the evening, tie a big hook and big sinker onto some heavy nylon twine, tie that rig to a limb overhanging the river. (Of course, tying the hook to the line earlier in the day makes the task faster at night.) Then, put on some bait that will stick, for example, cut bait, shrimp... Ideally you want to fish these lines every couple hours during the course of the night. Since we'd have to fish the hooks from a canoe, we'd need a place to set the hooks where the current wasn't so strong. So, a good fishing spot would have a nice big eddy with lost of overhanging branches. This spot fit the bill. We came upon it after an hour's paddling. We made about three and a half miles that day! Ed and Tom are fishing the hooks.
As you might expect, paddling for an hour can really wear one out. We didn't fish the hooks throughout the night, we were just too tired. But, we did enjoy a nice supper and a nice fire, which also served as an effective sock drier.
After a restful night, it's time to rise and shine. Get the fire going, get some breakfast on the stove. Gotta check those hooks and make at least 13 miles today. I have one further thing to say about bush hooks. Unfortunately, too many thoughtless or uncaring or lazy bush hook fishermen don't take their hooks down when they're done. Can you imagine drifting under a limb to have a hook bigger than your little finger nab you in the neck, or eye while the current pulls you down river sinking the hook deeper and deeper? There's no reason to leave the hooks up. Shortly after we pulled out that day, a movement caught my eye. I looked over to see a limb violently going up and down. I immediately saw the line and knew that it was a bush hook. However, we had neither seen nor heard anybody fishing any hooks that night or day. It was an abandoned line. Tad and I paddled over. On the end of the line we found the biggest soft shell turtle I have ever seen. S/he must have weighed 25 or 30 pounds, and would've made a good stew. The giant hook was stuck into one of her/his front paws. I managed to remove it, avoiding those massive snapping jaws. I hope s/he does allright.
This is Friday. The plan was to camp about an hour above Benton Lee's on the Altamaha tonight. Ed is supposed to go to a wedding in Claxton with his sweetie Saturday, and she was going to meet us at Benton Lee's about 11 o'clock the next morning. Tom had left his car at Benton Lee's, and Ed, Tom and Tad had driven in Ed's truck to the 280 bridge put-in. So, we'd get to Benton Lee's Saturday morning, then eat a feast. Tom would drive me and Tad to our trucks. Ed and Melia would go to the wedding. That was the plan. A good plan. We caught these fish on the hooks and cooked them up. Consequently, we didn't get on the water until 1 o'clock. But, no problem. We only had thirteen miles to go to camp. Seventeen to Benton Lee's, the take out.
Well, as it turned out, it started raining about the time we got on the water. It was very cool that day as well. Los Tres Caballeros didn't bring any rain gear. (But I did, and warm clothes, too.) We wound up paddling all day in the rain. Not a hard rain, fortunately, but steady all day long. We still made good time, though, and passed the confluence of the Ocmulgee and Oconee just before 5 o'clock. The Ocmulgee and Oconee meet head on, forming the top part of a "T" with the Altamaha being the bottom. Most creeks and rivers come together in something of a "Y". But not this one. As a result, there was a tremendous amount of turbulence at the confluence. We easily avoided it, however, by keeping close to the left bank. We were making good time. Shortly after we got on the Altamaha, we took a rest break under the 203 bridge. That's where we were notified that if there should be a meltdown at Plant Hatch, a nuclear power plant on the Altamaha just down the river from Benton Lee's, we could get information on the radio. Since we didn't have a radio, we'd just have to risk it. Another problem also surfaced about this time. Tom, not accustomed to shuttling for canoe trips, had left the keys to his car, which was at Benton Lee's, in Ed's truck, which was at the 280 bridge in Mount Vernon. So, how're we going to get to Ed's truck? From the sign in this picture, we were about an hour, maybe two at the most from the take out. We hopped back in the boats and headed down river. The Altamaha, although a mighty river, moves along at good clip. In a little while we came to the perfect sandbar, matching the requirements that it allow us to sleep late and still be at Benton Lee's in time to meet Melia, and fish if we want to. Do we stop and build a fire and set up camp in the rain with no dry clothes? Or do we go on? We went on.
We got to Benton Lee's right at 6 o'clock. Cold, wet and, tired. But not really miserable. Through some skillful thinking, we managed to figure out that Tad had left Tom's car unlocked. So they managed to get into Tom's car and get some dry clothes. Then we went into Benton Lee's. The most pressing thing, as hungry as we were, was to deal with the problem about getting to Ed's truck. We would have to try to get a ride from somebody at the restaurant. I walked up to the bar, and briefly explained the problem to the bartender, concluding with, "We need a ride." The bartender motioned over his shoulder and said, "Talk to that fellow right there." I told the tale again, again concluding with "We need a ride." The fellow, who turned out to be THE Benton Lee Powell, said, "I can take you right now. Soon it'll get too busy for me to get away here." So he took us to Ed's truck while Tad and Tom waited at the restaurant flirting with all the good looking girls in tight fitting jeans. After we got Ed's truck, Ed took me up to Dublin to get my truck. Two hours later we were back at the restaurant. We commenced to feasting. Frog Legs, Alligator tail, and some mighty fine steaks, mighty fine. I believe I could have eaten twice what I did eat. After that, it was au revoir. A truly great trip. I intend to do it again. But this time, starting at Milledgeville.
In early January, 2001, Mark Kimmel, who works in the paddling department at the I-85 Atlanta R.E.I. store, enjoyed a couple of nights on the Oconee/Altamaha with family and friends.
We had trouble making any time the next day because we stopped at every sandbar in search of treasure. Here's one of the treasures. Ed found this baby mud turtle, captured to his obvious displeasure.
