The situation presented itself almost immediately – at the end of the first long day of travel. Brad noted the development in the log: "Approximately 3:15 we began our wait to enter Lock #2 on our trip. As the moment came to enter the lock with a 40-foot water drop, we started having engine problems. The starboard engine committed suicide and was acting all screwy. So somehow we made it to lock #3 when both our engines were so messed up that we couldn't proceed. So we decided to anchor out and after a while decided to dock up at some restaurant which happens to be closed Sundays."

RON REIMANNLong, sunny days on the river were common.Reimann was on the phone and the Web right away, trying to diagnose the problem. "Everybody said, 'go with what's common (to both engines) – the fuel,'" he explained in an interview. "We had also gotten ethanol fuel for the first time right before the trip, so the theory was that the first alcohol in the system was doing a clean-up job." A mechanic arrived at the boat the next afternoon, decided the fuel filters were clogged and replaced them. Ron didn't think they looked clogged, but since the engines started right up after the filter change, he had to agree with the diagnosis.

The trouble reoccurred the next long travel day. "When we changed the filters the first time, we used my spares – so I'm thinking I've got to have more spares for these Racors," he said. "I thought now that I have the magic bullet, I'll just have to change them a few more times."

He ordered a whole case of filters and had them sent to a marina a few days ahead. "When I had the problem again, transiting from the Illinois to the Mississippi River, I had filters all ready and primed to change underway," he said. "I thought maybe I installed them wrong when it happened again right away – the filters didn't seem to solve the problem."

Flying Colors limped downriver to St. Louis to pick up a relative for the next segment of the trip. Headed back upriver on the Mississippi, both engines died just 10 miles short of the day's destination. Fuel-filter changes didn't help. The Reimanns found themselves anchored just downriver from a barge that wanted to swing right through where Flying Colors was positioned. A call to BoatU.S. eventually got a speedboat to them, and after a chaotic experience – including more time in the dark on a big river than they wanted – the Reimanns docked at a tiny remnant of a marina, where a family celebration wandered down to the single dock to help "bring the big boat in."

COOLING OFF

Troubleshooting in earnest began as soon as Nancy and Lisa were picked up by some St. Louis relatives and Ron could find a phone that worked. He got two mechanics headed his way – one to polish the fuel and the other, sent by the nearest Crusader dealer, to replace the fuel pumps.

The first mechanic never made it; his truck broke down, and he had to be towed 70 miles back home. The second mechanic arrived and began an end-to-end inspection of the fuel system on one engine. From the fuel tanks to the fuel pickups to the pumps and filters, everything appeared to be fine. Even the engine diagnostic codes revealed nothing. The mechanic decided it wasn't worth examining the other engine and consulted with his boss back at the shop. Crusader was suggesting that perhaps cooling was the issue.

Reimann pondered it. "It made sense as I thought about it," he said. "The engine that would die first was the engine that had the least amount of fuel in the tank. We recirculate the fuel to the tank and it goes to that least-full tank. So if you're having a temperature-related problem with the fuel, it will become apparent first on the engine drawing fuel from that tank.

"The fuel filters never 'clogged' in the morning, but they did in the afternoon when I shut down in the locks and sat, with no blowers running. So the question was how to keep everything cool.

Reimann called his wife and asked her to stop at the nearest department store and buy a 20-inch box fan. "It fit perfectly in one of the hatches, blowing into the engine room right between the engines, with the salon windows open," Reimann said.

The long detective process finally paid off. Reimann did have to replace the fuel pump on his generator, but by that time he was feeling like an old hand in the engine room and got the job done without much trouble.

RON REIMANNThe Reimann family celebrates on the dock at home.

HOW LOW TO GO?

Still, there were other challenges. Even though Flying Colors draws only 39 inches or so, inland river travel made the Reimanns perpetually concerned about depth. Rivers move so much silt and debris that conditions can change even from day to day. Ron says many harbormasters and dockmasters were sometimes cavalier when assessing the water depths at their docks or on the approaches. The common refrain: "Oh, you 'should' be fine."

One marina even told him to "pick any slip on the A-pier," Reimann said. "So I picked one that looked good and started to back in, when my crew warned me it didn't look good. So I pulled out and just moved to another one farther out." Roughly 20 minutes later, a ski boat pulled into the slip he first targeted, the owner pushed a button on the piling, and a lift popped out of the water.

Twenty-three days into their 16-day trip, the Reimann family cleared lock #31 and pulled into slip D-2 at the Afton Marina, at about 2:30 in the afternoon. They were met by flying pennants, balloons, a banner and champagne, thanks to friends and relatives. The celebration continued at a local restaurant and concluded – by unanimous family decision – with all crewmembers dropping heavily into their own beds at home.

The only real work to be done on the boat to bring her back to Bristol shape was clean a dozen fenders, fouled by the locks.

"I do believe somebody up above was looking out for us," Reimann said.