NORFOLK, Va.— Joe Pica has chosen to enjoy his retirement by going around in circles.
To be precise, one extraordinarily large circle over and over again.
On board a 37-foot trawler named Carolyn Ann, the 69-year-old retired police officer from greater Washington, D.C., has piloted intracoastal and inland waterways, sounds, canals, lakes and rivers to circumnavigate the eastern half of North America—all at a pulse-quickening speed of no more than 8 miles per hour.
Mr. Pica and his wife, Kathy “Punk” Pica, a former accountant, have logged more than 38,000 miles on the water in recent years puttering from Pensacola, Fla., up to Quebec, over to the Great Lakes, down the Illinois and Mississippi rivers to the Gulf Coast, and then back again.
Because the “Great Loop” never strays far from shore, looping tends to be less intimidating than ocean voyaging. That doesn’t mean it’s trouble-free.
Loopers battle faulty navigation equipment, clogged drain pipes, broken valves and belts, angry commercial barge captains, tall antennas and low bridges, locks crammed in with boaters and other daily hazards. (See photos of ports of call on the Great Loop.)
“One of you on the boat should like to fix stuff,” says Bob Amidon, a 67-year-old retired therapist. Oil filters, belts and impellers “will all break eventually,” he says.
Along with his wife, 66-year-old Pat Amidon, a retired real-estate appraiser, the Portland, Maine, couple completed their first loop in December. They arrived back in Key West, Fla., just over 10 months after setting out in a 36-foot Monk trawler named Velomer.
“We grounded six times on our route,” says Ms. Amidon. The worst, she says, came over a narrow stretch of the Trent-Severn Waterway, in Ontario, while Ms. Amidon was taking a rare shift at the helm, with her husband “doing I don’t know what below decks.” Their boat struck solid rock and rose out of the water, causing $16,000 in damage.
“Boating forces you to work effectively with your partner,” she says, vaguely referring to the incident. “Don’t yell. Communicate.”
The most common ‘Great Loop' route for boaters to circumnavigate the eastern U.S. on inland waterways.
CANADA
VT.
N.Y.
N.H.
Toronto
WIS.
MASS.
Albany
MICH.
CONN.
Buffalo
Detroit
New
York
PA.
IOWA
Cleveland
Chicago
IND.
Baltimore
OHIO
MD.
ILL.
St. Louis
Norfolk
VA.
KY.
MO.
N.C.
TENN.
ARK.
S.C.
Charleston
Atlantic
Ocean
ALA.
GA.
MISS.
LA.
Jacksonville
Mobile
FLA.
Tampa
Gulf of Mexico
Miami
Source: America’s Great Loop Cruisers’ Association
Other lessons learned: Don’t load up on fresh produce before crossing the Canadian border: “We were eating fruits and vegetables for breakfast, lunch and dinner” over fears it would be confiscated by border agents. “It wasn’t,” Ms. Amidon says.
Alan Lloyd, a retired General Electric Co. mechanical engineer from Cincinnati, Ohio, has done the loop four times with his wife, Jean Lloyd, in a 35-foot Silverton 330 Sport Bridge, dubbed 2 IF BY C. He winces at the memory of flying carp, which leap out of the Illinois River and “bleed all over your boat. It’s really very unpleasant,” he says.
Mr. Pica can now identify a malfunctioning pump from above deck: “When your ‘head’ pump goes, you’re in for a long, long day on the water,” he says, using the nautical term for a ship’s toilet.
Then there’s the weather. Two years ago, during their third loop, the Picas found themselves battling 8-foot swells in the middle of a gale on Lake Michigan. “A real washing machine,” Mr. Pica says of the storm, faulting a “bad decision” to head out under darkening skies. “My one rule is keep the water on the outside of the boat,” he says.
Though they returned safely to shore eight hours later, his wife, “Punk,” was ready to jump ship, he adds.
Loopers say a big part of the appeal is getting off the highway and seeing the world from a fresh perspective. The route passes through 25 states, with deck-side views of the Washington Monument, the Statue of Liberty, the Canadian Parliament buildings, downtown Chicago, the St. Louis Arch and several other historic sites.
“It’s like traveling by RV, but you’re not stuck on a highway or in a Wal-Mart parking lot,” says Mr. Pica, “and you don’t get road rage.”
He says lying on a beach somewhere is his idea of “giving up.”
There is also a strong sense of community along the route, loopers say, which draws them back again and again.
Loopers tend to clump together as a result of seasonality. The northernmost passages aren’t navigable in the winter, for instance, while most boat insurers keep much of the southern end of the route off limits during hurricane season.
Many also fly a distinctive loopers burgee—a triangular naval flag—to identify themselves to others in the group. At marinas and anchorages on the way, they take turns hosting “docktails” and cookouts.
“We meet the same people over and over again,” says Mr. Lloyd, adding that a familiar spot is Hoppies Marina on the Mississippi in Imperial, Mo., the last gasoline stop for the next 250 miles. Many ports of call along the route are “like a family reunion,” he says.
For others, the decision to do the route is more of a trade-off: “The Great Loop was Bob’s dream, which I was certainly willing to do,” says Ms. Amidon, “in exchange for him going along with my dream: living in Paris for a year.”
They have no plans to visit Paris soon, but the couple hasn’t ruled out a second loop, she adds.
