Baton Rouge to Venice — Introduction

Introduction: New Challenges below Baton Rouge Intro: Just when you thought you’ve learned everything there is to know about the Mississippi, you return to the river at Baton Rouge and find that the conditions have changed and the river is throwing bizarre new challenges at you -- such as skyscraper-sized freighters steaming up the main channel making the biggest and most chaotic waves you’ve ever seen! You’ll experience mini-tsunamis rolling in and out of your campsite with alarming changes in water level.

Your friends, the towboats you have been paddling with since Minneapolis (or Sioux City), are now joined by real honest-to-God ocean-going tugboats serving the needs of freighters. The endless lines of trees and muddy banks you enjoyed upstream are here replaced by endless miles of fleeted barges and refinery pipelines and power plant smokestacks. Wind direction becomes a concern at camp when you wonder what petrochemical plant might be sending foul carbonaceous (or worse) aromas your way throughout your sleep.

Okay, so you’ve successfully paddled two thousand miles from Lake Itasca, or maybe four thousand miles from Three Forks, Montana. The river has gently taught you its ways as you’ve proceeded downstream. We call this education “the greater school of river-rats” or BRU -- the Big River University! BRU opened up its doors to you with the lighthearted lessons of the headwaters: braided channels, open lake crossings, portaging over dams, eddies, and some swift water. Later you graduated to paddling with tows (Minneapolis), and safe paddling through locks & dams.

Still later you advanced a degree when you learned to paddle through big industry with bigger tows (St. Louis). Then you reached the mouth of the Ohio. Here you begin your specialized advanced degree in Big River Navigation at BRU where the river swells to its fullness with the biggest tows ever seen on the face of the earth. Bigger whirlpools, giant eddies, and the biggest boils you’ve ever paddled through, some tending towards aquatic violence on their edges. BRU on the Lower Miss requires long hours of paddling, concentration, and quick decisions.

Everything you’ve learned up to this point must be accessed and utilized: you must be able to read the river like the steamboat pilot training Mark Twain received under his mentor, the volcanic Captain Bixby (as related in his 1883 Life on the Mississippi). On the Lower Mississippi you need to apply all your river abilities to read to this monster mile-wide river swelling to its natural fullness and flexing all of its muscly challenges. And now 600 miles later downstream you have advanced to this last advanced stage of BRU as you have mastered paddling with those behemoths, and have made good navigation choices on the big volume waters.

What else could you possibly need to learn to graduate (ie: safely paddle to the Gulf)? Well, here below Baton Rouge is your entrance into the graduate program of the BRU -- the Big River University. The river always has the last say and always keeps a few tricks hidden under her muddy waters! As you continue past the capitol city of Louisiana you will now have several new big river paradigms to adjust the body of your river knowledge to, namely 1) freighters, 2) endless miles of fleeted barges and anchored freighters, 3) no islands (below Bonnet Carre), 4) very limited campsites, and finally 5) tides.

You will need to learn to paddle and camp with these new (and very significant) challenges always in the forefront of your decision making. Welcome paddlers to “Chemical Corridor,” the last remaining and most difficult section of the Mississippi River before you reach the Gulf of Mexico! Waves Paddlers will have to be especially vigilant about increased wave height and unpredictability below Baton Rouge. Think of paddling along sea cliffs. This is the effect that parked barges, tows and freighters have on the waves bouncing around the main channel.

Endless rip-rap add to this effect. Steel and concrete docking even more so. Gone is the dampening effect of long open beaches and soft muddy banks found above Baton Rouge. The result is the biggest and wildest waves you will see anywhere on the Mississippi River, all bouncing back and forth in unpredictable patterns, piling over one another in compound waves, and coming from all directions, some building in scale to resemble mini rogue waves. Picture a toyboat in a bathtub with a playful kid. This is how you will feel, and how you will look from the distance.

The 20-mile industrial “gauntlet” below the Great Arch in St. Louis will give you a taste of what the next 230 miles has in store for you. Be careful when making landings or setting up camp. Pull your vessel high above water level, three feet above when possible. Waves from passing work boats, tugs and freighters could wash over any low places, especially within inlets or at the edge of shallows (where the wave heights and tide effects tend to multiply frighteningly). The Gauntlet Paddling downstream below Baton Rouge follows the classic dictionary definition for “Running The Gauntlet” (1) To go through an intimidating or dangerous crowd, place, or experience in order to reach a goal.

(2) To undergo the punishment of receiving blows while running between two rows of men with sticks. On the river you will have to paddle miles and miles of freighters, cruise ships, container ships, tugboats, towboats, workboats, wharves, docks, buoys, anchors, steel cables, choppy waves, weird currents, and many other challenges which might be exacerbated by wind, darkness and your state of mind. The waves slap you from side to side as they ricochet back and forth between passing tows and fleeted barges.

Hard steel edges make for bigger choppier waves. Concrete docks and bank stabilization the same. You, the lonely paddler amidst the industrial megalith, must do your best to stay upright amongst the waves. The goal is of course the Gulf of Mexico, the open salty waters below the Mississippi River Delta. When to stay on shore As always, impatience is your worst enemy on the river. Stay on shore and await a change in the weather if any of the following conditions apply: (a) If the wind is blowing 15mph or higher from any southerly or easterly quadrants, or 20mph or higher from any other quadrant; (b) if you have three hours or less before sunset; or (c) if you are not feeling good about things (sailor’s sixth sense).

Don’t allow complicating factors to get in the way of safe travel and making good decisions. Get a good night’s sleep and enjoy a full breakfast before departure. Inspect your vessel to be sure it’s in top shape and will not surprise you with any compromises in the middle of the river. Make sure you are in good communication with everyone in your party. Settle any differences. Do not let any grievances leave shore. You need to be in your best shape possible, physically, mentally and spiritually, to safely navigate what lies below you downstream in Chemical Corridor.

When to stay on shore As always, impatience is your worst enemy on the river. Stay on shore and await a change in the weather if any of the following conditions apply: (a) If the wind is blowing 15mph or higher from any southerly or easterly quadrants, or 20mph or higher from any other quadrant; (b) if you have three hours or less before sunset; or (c) if you are not feeling good about things (sailor’s sixth sense). Don’t allow complicating factors to get in the way of safe travel and making good decisions.

Get a good night’s sleep and enjoy a full breakfast before departure. Inspect your vessel to be sure it’s in top shape and will not surprise you with any compromises in the middle of the river. Make sure you are in good communication with everyone in your party. Settle any differences. Do not let any grievances leave shore. You need to be in your best shape possible, physically, mentally and spiritually, to safely navigate what lies below you downstream in Chemical Corridor. Stepping Stones of Wilderness The first time you paddle Chemical Corridor you might easily be overwhelmed by the vast profusion of industry, day in and day out for 2 weeks of paddling, so much so that the refineries and granaries and power plants and scrap steel and dry bulk docks and anchored freighters and fleeted barges all become a blur highlighted by the one or two peaceful places, and maybe a quick stop to the St.

Louis Cathedral or Cafe Du Monde in the French Quarter. If you can, dear paddler, slow down a little and take your time both preparing for this stretch of river and for the actual paddling of it. As with many places along the Lower Mississippi, the more you focus on the little details surrounding you, the more you see, and the more you appreciate the experience. You will find that the industry comes and goes, and is broken by some sparkling pockets of woods and sandbars in between that taken together become a series of stepping stones of wild places that you can find and make use of to ease the pain of the paddling, and the confusion of modern industrial America.

Green Spaces

Even though you are paddling into Chemical Corridor, home to over 200 petrochemical plants in 135 miles of river, producing 25% of America’s chemicals, the intense industry is broken by pristine sandbars, islands, forests, and other places of great beauty. One of the primary goals of the Rivergator to identify these places and describe them for you to help make your journey as comfortable and enjoyable as possible. These places seem all the more special because of their location within the chaos of the petrochem industry.

The largest of these wild refuges we are calling “Green Spaces.” Each will receive lengthy descriptions to help you access and appreciate. The first of these Green Spaces is not far downstream of Baton Rouge at wild Manchac Point. Green Spaces are green places interconnected by the river. Green Spaces are modest acreages of wetlands, woods or islands. They might not have great value when considered in isolation. But connected by the river to other Green Spaces they create substantially larger spaces of green, which means cleaner drinking water and better water levels for navigation and industry.

These green connections are of great value to the wildlife and overall health of the ecosystem. Green connections multiply life-saving factors such as migration, procreation and food, the sum of which is much greater than the parts. This ultimately results in a healthier river. We need to recognize and protect these Green Spaces because they help bring better and cleaner drinking water to New Orleans, and all communities below Baton Rouge. More Green spaces means better water levels, which means more productive industry, which results in more jobs.

Green Spaces are win-win-win! River, humans, wildlife. We all win. These Green Spaces can be clearly seen on Google Earth. The Baton Rouge stretch you are now paddling is just a little taste of some busy-ness before the the big busy-ness to follow. But also pockets of wilderness. Chemical Corridor is a great education and should be looked upon as such. What you see here in microcosm explains the entirety of Louisiana's Chemical Corridor and the vast inland port of Greater New Orleans -- and the river's connection to the world market.

This will make a well-rounded tour for the long-distance paddler setting out from Baton Rouge down the Water Trail. You get the opportunity to experience a little industry and a lot of nature. The river is both commerce and wilds. It has always been this way since the Athabaskans first migrated across the Bering Straight and then South out of Canada and began ferrying goods along the plentiful river valleys in hollowed logs. They were of course later followed by their descendants the Chickasaw, Choctaw, Quapaw, Natchez, and many others in dugout canoes, hide-covered canoes and bark canoes.

The Mississippi is and has always been this continent's greatest highway for commerce and simultaneously also one of its greatest wildernesses. Can the two co-exist? I firmly believe so and will describe it as so. The story of the Mississippi and its importance to the heart of America -- and its connections to the rest of the world -- could not be understood without seeing the monuments of mankind. As the river leaves Baton Rouge you can see examples of how it cooperates with the ambitions of modern man's industry & transportation, and then how it seamlessly slips into its mighty realm of wilderness below where nature predominates.

Wild Miles

According to wildmiles.org the Lower Mississippi River is 71% wild and 29% not. (Wild Miles is a qualitative assessment of Mississippi Valley wilderness areas from the perspective of the river). But below Baton Rouge, the percentages change. The Wildmiles assessment of the 250 miles from Baton Rouge to the Gulf says that 7% is “looks & feels” wild, and 93% not. We’re going to describe both “wild” and “not wild” in the Rivergator. But particular attention will be paid to the remaining 7% that still feels good-and-wild, and is still thriving with an extraordinary amount of plant, animal and insect diversity.

What are the Wild Miles? Wild Miles are places where nature predominates and nothing is seen of mankind save passing tows (and other river traffic) and maybe a tiny hunting camp or a single fisherman buzzing by in a johnboat. These are places where the landscape is filled with giant islands bounded by endless mud banks & sandbars, where the river is overseen by big skies and where the sun sets uninterrupted by buildings or wires and where big river predominates with creative wild beauty, each high water results in shifting sand dunes and re-made sandbars.

This is a floodplain valley where only deer & coyote tracks are seen along the sandbars and enormous flocks of shy birds like the White Pelican and Double Breasted Cormorant are comfortable enough to make landing for the night. These are places where it's dark & quiet at night, where the stars fill the skies like brightly shining jewels poured out on a dark purple velvet blanket, almost as thick & vibrant as the night skies of the Great Plains or Rocky Mountains.

Channel Crossings As you study the 2007 USACE Maps of the Lower Mississippi you will notice the recommended line of travel following traditional crossings with colorful names like “Red Eye Crossing” and “Sardine Crossing” and “Bayou Goula Crossing.” Freighters and all big commercial traffic follow these traditional channel crossings over shoals between deep pools from West Bank to East Bank and vice-versa. Smaller vessels like tugboats and tows can go just about anywhere during medium or higher river levels, but at low water most will follow this traditional route for making a safe crossing to deep water.

You paddlers can continue on whatever routes suits you best. To avoid traffic stay out of the crossing and continue on whatever side you’re already on. You might drift into slower water, but often in a shorter line of travel. If you stray into the channel for faster waters stay vigilant for oncoming fast-moving freighters. Monitor channel 67 if you have a VHF marine radio for an indication of what’s coming around the bend. Blind Corners One of the dramatic river changes below Baton Rouge is the presence of “blind corners” -- that is: tight bends of the river.

Unlike the gently curving bends you’ve enjoyed above Baton Rouge, for some aqua-dynamic reason the bends of the river below Baton Rouge often curve around a single crux point, sometimes with a 180 degree swing of direction. The river seems to eddy, and sometimes pool with giant boils at these crux points, and the normal flow of water displays strange behavior, from smooth laminar flow to massive boils and swirlings that seem to wander aimlessly about the river face, and can leave paddlers in a bit of confusion.

It can be a bit un-nerving to lose all your current at one of these points. But imagine the extra fright when you lose all your current and then simultaneously you are confronted with an oncoming freighter the size of Fort Knox who has suddenly appeared downstream, seemingly hugging the bank, and you seem to be directly in its line of passage! Safely Paddling around Blind Corners Downstream freighters and big tows normally follow the traditional lines of crossing, as indicated on the 2007 USACE maps, from deep within the bend, staying with the swift waters center channel, or towards one of the banks, gradually crossing over and above the shallows of one bend, and then dropping again into deeper and swifter waters as they enter the next bend downstream.

Paddlers should be aware that upstream freighters and tows often stay in the slow water below the crux turning point of these blind corners as long and as far as they can find enough depth, and then jump out around the crux point blind corner at the last possible minute to plow through the faster and deeper waters beyond, and then when possible reach the slower waters towards the next blind corner upstream. This is a typical pattern for all commercial traffic, especially bigger vessels. If you are approaching any of the sharp points from above be extra cautious about the possible approach of big upstream vessels coming towards you and around these blind corners.

Every corner is different, and every moment of the day brings new challenges according to traffic. Best decisions are made on the spot based on what you see in front of you, and what you hear on your radio. Normal best route is running wide and getting into the safety of the outside of the bend. Staying on the outside of these bends close to shore (closer than large commercial traffic will go) is normally your safest bet. The water on the outside of a bend tends to be flowing more swiftly than on the inside of a bend anyway so the longer distance shouldn’t affect your transit time too much.

Interpreting Horns Commercial pilots often toot their horns to each other, as signals of which side to pass on, or in respect of each other. Modern pilots have adopted this system from steamboat pilots who used whistles in the days preceding radio communication. “One whistle” means pass on port side to port side. Two toots means starboard to starboard. While they won’t use this system for us paddlers, they might give a toot of salutation, or maybe an angry HONK! as a warning. This could happen anywhere along the river, but is especially common in the tight bends and crowded fleeting and wharfing areas of Chemical Corridor.

The last thing a commercial pilot wants to encounter while maneuvering thousands of tons of freight through hazardous stretches of water is a canoe or kayak in the middle of the navigation channel. If you hear two toots in succession that means “hullo!” Raise your paddle as a return signal of respect, or even better remove your hat and give a bow (also a courtesy harkening back to the steamboat days). But if you are shook by a prolonged blaring horn (sounds like a deranged tuba player) that means the pilot thinks you are in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Re-assess your line of travel and make any possible adjustments. If your vessel is again shook by prolonged screams of the air-horn, again and again, that means that this particular pilot has taken an extreme dislike to your position in the river, and thinks you (or he) is in imminent danger. This might be the time to make a beeline for the quickest safe side of the river you can see. But take a minute, dear paddler, and turn around and carefully examine the channel and what is going on before acting.

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