NEAR DISASTER! It all started Frid evening when I had passed through Pickwick lock and was rushing down the Tenn. R. at 9 mph (4 mph current boost!) and determined to tie off in Beason Creek for the night. I had spooted it on the chart as a "public access area" and pulled in before dark to check it out. I was pleased to find 10 feet of water depth 100 yards up into the creek, and nosed HUCK up to a hefty tree, to which I tied a bow line. Preferring a tie to anchoring, I was set for a worry-free evening and hit the sack early.

About 5AM I was awakened with an uncomfortable sensation of being squashed against the hull side of the starboard bunk where I was sleeping. I sleepily ignored that for a while, then heard something fall from a shelf onto the floor. Still dark, I grabbed a flashlight and stepped out the forward door to find HUCK tilted 35 degrees and hard aground on the bank of the creek! A glance at the water revealed that the level had dropped about 6 feet from the time I went to bed. By daylight, the water had dropped another foot and the HUCK was listing more severely. Her stern was still in the creek, but tilted toward the water enough that it was partly swamped and beginning to spill into the main bilge of the boat.

A 70-ish resident, across the creek hailed me and we talked about options for dealing with this unforeseen crisis. He said the water "usually starts to come back up around dinner time, but these days on weekends, you never know." The level is controlled by the Pickwick dam which is also a hydroelectric generating plant. They time their water releases based on demand for electricity.

It was a long, uneasy morning, where I tried to force myself to relax knowing there wasn't much to do but wait. I was cautiously optimistic, trying not to let myself be excited, when the creek current began running backwards about noon and the level rose about 1 foot, the stopped suddenly. That wasn't near enought to float the HUCK and get her off the bank, though I tried in vain running the diesel and the outboard full throttle in hopes of breaking her loose.

Enter Lewis...the guy across the creek paddled over in a jon boat and looked around the HUCK to see if we might be able to pull her off. The rudder was in the mud, and a large log lay on the bottom between the rudder and the center of the creek. Pulling on the stern could damage the rudder and maybe the prop too. Meanwhile, water was filling the bilge compartment and rising to the bottom of the engine. I ran the bilge pump full time and it was just keeping up with the inflow. Now it was apparent that if the water started rising again it would swamp the HUCK, ultimately sinking her, before it would float her off the bank.

Lewis went to work. I gave him the end of a 200 foot 1/2" nylon line which he ferried across the creek. He recruited a neighbor with a 4-wheel drive lawn tractor to pullon the line. I tied the line to the bow cleat of the HUCK, hoping to slide the bow down the bank, without damaging the rudder. Lewis came back with a shovel and started digging away at the mud on the low side of the hull, to ease its escape. Lewis' wife, Doris, shouted instructions to the tractor guy, out of my sight, to start pulling when I revved up the HUCK's prop in reverse. 2 or 3 times he backed up and heaved forward against the line and suddenly HUCK began to slide, then tumbled down the bank into the water. FLOATIN AGAIN! HOORAY! Unfortunately, the tractor guy didn't know we were free and he kept pulling. This sent Doris into a screaming dash after the driver to get him to stop. HUCK was running about 5 knots straight for the cabin's log sea wall when the driver got the message. He stopped, but there was enough stretch in the nylon line to continue the pull, while I again applied full reverse gear on the HUCK and held my breath, HUCK stopped just in time to nudge the seawall gently, no harm done.

The wife of the tractor guy came running up to the bank, beaming a proud smile, and exclaimed: "At first we couldn't get it going because the wheels were spinning, but I sat on the back and it dug right in and took off!" Then the driver appeared, and it was obvious that he was a rather simple soul, to put it politely. I don't know if he would have ever stopped, or where HUCK would have ended up, if Doris hadn't caught him in time. But he was also very proud, and very excited. Myself, I was proud and happy for everybody, and quite relieved. It ied HUCK to the seawall of Lewis and Doris's cottage and walked up the log steps to chat with them for a while.

They have lived their since tey were married and seldom leave the property. Lewis fishes a lot and they sometimes feed "upwards of 150 folks" at a Friday catfish fry. He told me about finding arrowheads nearby, and two mexican gold dollars dated 1835 on the creekbank. There's also several small cemetaries nearby with graves of Civil War soldiers. The battle of Shiloh was fought just a few miles south of their place.

Here's another picture of HUCK showing her precarious position. I hope I never get to take that kind of picture again. Fortunately there was never any real danger to my life or limb. And if HUCK got sunk..well, lots worse things can happen. After all, it's only a boat. The best part about it was meeting Lewis and Doris. The lawn tractor guy and his wife had vanished by the time I got up that side of the bank.

Pulling out of the creek, about 1 PM, I could only think of the generosity of strangers, especially common when boats are involved. I thought of the lines from the song "Proud Mary": "If you go down to the river, bet you gonna' find some people who live; It don't really matter, if you got no money, people on the river are happy to give."

Have I mentioned this before? All's well that ends well. Another day on the river with HUCK FINN.