The Steppes of Eastern Washington and Oregon
What luck! The day was barely beginning to break when I heard from Captain Kay that we would be on approach to John Day lock and dam within a half-hour. This meant we had cleared the locks of Bonneville Dam and The Dalles Dam with little to no delays during the night. Barge traffic is an unknown factor that we have to take into account on our expeditions here on the Columbia and Snake rivers. Flexibility is the name of the game, and we were doing well. One can never predict when a towboat and its barges will slow the process of “locking through.”
So, an earlier-than-expected call to rise from berths was made, and virtually everyone made it on deck to watch the bumpers being placed and the lines tossed over the floating bollards. The guillotine gate dripped Columbia water in a thin sheet over our heads as the Sea Bird slipped into the quiet, cavernous lock chamber of the John Day Dam (105 feet in one go!). When the gate closed, and the sunlight no longer touched us, one could almost feel claustrophobic. But really, the water fills the chamber so quickly one doesn’t have a chance to brood before the sun shines once more and the day becomes brighter-than-ever.
Immediately after breakfast, we were scanning the basalt cliffs in Oregon and at least 16 bighorn sheep (California subspecies) were counted, along with several mule deer, thanks to the sharp eyes of Dave Olcott. Three peregrin falcons flew intricate patterns over us, and herons, ducks, geese and gulls made their appearances as if on cue, and Lewis and Clark appeared in our lives by way of Jerry Igo, the Sea Bird’s historian.
By the afternoon, we received confirmation from the lockmaster at McNary lock and dam that we had special permission! Being an expedition, we are always prepared for the unexpected (as much as one can prepare for something unexpected), and so with a head’s up on the P.A., the Zodiacs were lowered and two were immediately filled with intrepid guests (for some their very first Zodiac ride ever!). The Sea Bird made her way first into the lock, followed soon by the Zodiacs. We all tied up to our own personal floating bollards when the lockmaster closed the huge doors, and the water started to rise with fascinating swiftness. Sooner than imagined (and in time for a scheduled massage) we were once more on board and steaming east. Umatilla, Blaylocks, Hat Rock, Wallula Gap. These are only a few of the new names learned today as we followed the trail of Lewis and Clark on the Columbia River (in comfortable style sipping wine as the sun set).
What luck! The day was barely beginning to break when I heard from Captain Kay that we would be on approach to John Day lock and dam within a half-hour. This meant we had cleared the locks of Bonneville Dam and The Dalles Dam with little to no delays during the night. Barge traffic is an unknown factor that we have to take into account on our expeditions here on the Columbia and Snake rivers. Flexibility is the name of the game, and we were doing well. One can never predict when a towboat and its barges will slow the process of “locking through.”
So, an earlier-than-expected call to rise from berths was made, and virtually everyone made it on deck to watch the bumpers being placed and the lines tossed over the floating bollards. The guillotine gate dripped Columbia water in a thin sheet over our heads as the Sea Bird slipped into the quiet, cavernous lock chamber of the John Day Dam (105 feet in one go!). When the gate closed, and the sunlight no longer touched us, one could almost feel claustrophobic. But really, the water fills the chamber so quickly one doesn’t have a chance to brood before the sun shines once more and the day becomes brighter-than-ever.
Immediately after breakfast, we were scanning the basalt cliffs in Oregon and at least 16 bighorn sheep (California subspecies) were counted, along with several mule deer, thanks to the sharp eyes of Dave Olcott. Three peregrin falcons flew intricate patterns over us, and herons, ducks, geese and gulls made their appearances as if on cue, and Lewis and Clark appeared in our lives by way of Jerry Igo, the Sea Bird’s historian.
By the afternoon, we received confirmation from the lockmaster at McNary lock and dam that we had special permission! Being an expedition, we are always prepared for the unexpected (as much as one can prepare for something unexpected), and so with a head’s up on the P.A., the Zodiacs were lowered and two were immediately filled with intrepid guests (for some their very first Zodiac ride ever!). The Sea Bird made her way first into the lock, followed soon by the Zodiacs. We all tied up to our own personal floating bollards when the lockmaster closed the huge doors, and the water started to rise with fascinating swiftness. Sooner than imagined (and in time for a scheduled massage) we were once more on board and steaming east. Umatilla, Blaylocks, Hat Rock, Wallula Gap. These are only a few of the new names learned today as we followed the trail of Lewis and Clark on the Columbia River (in comfortable style sipping wine as the sun set).
