Day 12: and then there were nuns

Nick, Clement, and Bennett awoke in hammocks on the shore of the island park that borders the Quincy Art Keller Marina of Quincy, Illinois. We walked back to meet Piers, who had pitched a tent on the deck of Cat Sass and began showering and making breakfast. 

After a brief poison ivy scare (those who slept in the park had walked through some suspicious looking leaves), we stopped at the marina gas station. The attendant at the station was the mother of the Illinois state bowling champion. He had bowled two 300s. We were all impressed.

Soon we were on our way to Hannibal, Missouri, the birthplace of Mark Twain.

When we arrived on the dock of the Hannibal Boat Club we ran into a man named Sharkey. He had no sleeves, a cigarillo and a beer can. He looked a bit like a shark. We asked if it was okay for us to dock there and he said, through the window of his pick up, that it was and that we were better than most people for having asked. 

"If anyone gives you any trouble tell them Sharkey said it was okay", he said, grinning. 

Sharkey is on the board of the club and has a boat himself in Hannibal but is "too anal about his boat" so he plans on selling it. He rarely takes it out on the water for fear of damaging it. As we walked away from the marina to look at a Twain statue, he yelled, "That's everything, now you've seen it all" and laughed. 

He wasn't totally joking, we found out. It became clear that the town had been manufactured to maximize quaintness. The main street was lined with stores like The Mark Twain Brewery (not really a brewery), The Mark Twain Motel, The Mark Twain Boyhood Home, Mrs. Clemens Antique Mall, Aunt Polly's Treasures, and the Mark Twain Wax Museum. All of them, from what we saw, were filled with touristy Mark Twain fare and had little interesting history about the author. 

We did figure out the secret sauce of Finn's Restaurant as the waitress let slip that it is s*lsa and r*nch. With that small victory we made our way back to Cat Sass.

Hannibal was a bust. Anyone thinking of visiting should spend their time in Muscatine instead. 

However, this wasn't the worst part of our day. What you've all secretly wanted to happen, just a little bit, deep down inside finally happened, a Cat-Sasstrophe. We had almost reached our target marina when we heard a change in tone from the engine. We tilted the motor up to see if some sticks had gotten caught in the motor, but found nothing. Piers lowered the motor back into the water and twisted the key in the ignition, but the engine remained totally motionless. Nick and Bennett frantically paddled the boat out of the channel lest a barge come around the corner. The mechanic who fixed our motor at the start of our time on the river, Clint, had warned us that the starter on our engine would be the first thing to go, and we feared it finally had. We called local mechanics but at 9 p.m. On a Saturday night we found none. We blew our whistle five times (thanks, Caleb!) at a passing pontoon boat and they slowed to see if we needed help. They suggested we try a place called Quilliar's about a mile up river, but alas the mechanic was at a wedding. We tried our last resort, Sea Tow (basically AAA for boats). While we were told by a Sea Tow representative (when buying the plan) that they could find us service 24/7 on the river, they could offer us nothing more than an apology for that night and the next day we would find out. They resorted to calling their competitor Tow Boat USA (who was honest about their limited service on the river when we asked before buying Sea Tow) and when they could not help us they called the police. Unfortunately all of the officers in Hamburg (name of the town were we landed) were at a fish fry so we were put in contact with Officer Steve of Pike County (one county North of Hamburg). He was very nice and wanted to help but wasn't allowed to have us towed unless we were in immediate danger. We thought about putting ourselves in immediate danger but decided against it. 

Resigned to our night on the eastern shore, we struggled to form a perfect seal on our mosquito netting (we slept on the deck as it was too hot for tents) and fell asleep to the sound of our pontoons grinding on rocks every time the wake of a barge carried us closer to shore. 

Note: this photo depicts an unidentified planet and 2/10000ths of the mosquitos we encounteted last night, all seen through our mosquito net. 

WILL THE CREW OF CAT SASS EXTRACT THEMSELVES FROM THIS CAT-SASSTROPHE? Find out tomorrow.