Louisiana and the Mississippi Delta: Sailing the Bayou State

Destination Guide · Louisiana / Mississippi

Louisiana has more miles of navigable water than any other state in the contiguous United States. That is not a metaphor — it is a physical fact of the land, which is mostly below sea level, built from river sediment over thousands of years, and punctuated by bayous, oxbow lakes, marsh channels, and coastal bays that are more water than solid ground. The coast south of Interstate 10 is a labyrinth. Learning to navigate it is a project, not an afternoon.

For most cruisers transiting the Gulf — heading from Texas toward Florida or vice versa — Louisiana and Mississippi are the middle section: the part between the Texas shallows and the Florida panhandle, traveled on the ICW through Calcasieu Lake, Vermilion Bay, the Atchafalaya, and the Mississippi delta. Traveling that route without stopping is a mistake. The detour into Lake Pontchartrain and the approach to New Orleans by water are experiences that cannot be replicated overland.

Lake Pontchartrain: The 40-Mile Lake

Lake Pontchartrain is not a natural sailing lake in the way that Lake Huron or Lake Ontario are sailing lakes. It is a semi-enclosed estuary, connected to the Gulf of Mexico by Lake Borgne and Lake Catherine to the east and by the Rigolets and Chef Menteur passes. It measures roughly 40 miles east-west and 24 miles north-south, with an average depth of 12 to 14 feet. The water is brackish, the bottom is soft mud, and when the wind builds to 20 knots from any direction it can generate a short, steep chop that pounds smaller boats hard.

The famous Lake Pontchartrain Causeway — the twin spans that carry Highway 190 across the lake — marks a visual divide between the southern lake (closer to New Orleans) and the northern shore around Mandeville, Madisonville, and Slidell. Mandeville and Madisonville are the recreational sailing hubs on the north shore: good marinas, easy provisioning, and a culture of weekend racing that has been continuous since the 1930s.

The Southern Yacht Club, headquartered in New Orleans on the south shore of Lake Pontchartrain, is the oldest yacht club west of the Allegheny Mountains, founded in 1849. It has an impressive racing history and a membership that takes both history and sailing seriously. The club offers reciprocal privileges to members of recognized yacht clubs; call ahead. The marina facilities on the south shore are more limited than the north, but being in proximity to New Orleans compensates for that in the ways that matter.

New Orleans by Boat: The Industrial Canal Lock

Arriving at New Orleans by water requires a decision: go all the way or don't bother. The decision involves the Industrial Canal lock, which connects Lake Pontchartrain to the canal that leads into the city's inner harbor and ultimately to the Mississippi River. The lock itself is functional, operated by the Army Corps of Engineers, and the process is not especially difficult — call on VHF Ch 13, wait your turn, transit the lock, and you are in the canal system.

From the Industrial Canal you can reach the French Quarter Marina, which is as close to the French Quarter as a boat can get without having extraordinary draft and a death wish in the Mississippi. The marina is basic in facilities but extraordinary in location — you are within walking distance of the Quarter, the Marigny, the Bywater, and everything that makes New Orleans the city it is.

Arriving at New Orleans by water rather than by road is a category difference. The city presents itself differently from the water: its industrial waterfront, its levee system (which keeps the water level of the river above the level of the streets in much of the city), its cranes and grain elevators and the tow traffic on the river — these are the bones of the city in a way that the tourist quarter is not. Plan at least two nights. The city rewards staying longer than you planned to.

The Mississippi River: Why You Don't Sail It Unless You Have To

The Mississippi River is not a sailing river for recreational boats. The current in the lower river runs 2 to 5 knots depending on season and recent rainfall, meaning that heading upstream under sail is essentially impossible and motoring upstream requires serious attention to the geometry of progress. Heading downstream to the Gulf is faster and easier, but the commercial traffic — barge tows of up to 1,200 feet in length, moving quickly on the current — is dense, and the river's width does not leave much room to get out of the way.

The river itself is managed as a commercial highway. The banks are largely industrial. The anchorages are limited. Wing dams and dikes that control the navigation channel create hydraulic features that surprise boats that don't know they're there. The channel shifts seasonally in ways that paper charts do not capture quickly enough.

What you do with the Mississippi as a sailor is transit it as efficiently as possible: through the Industrial Canal lock to reach New Orleans, or through the Gulf Outlet to reach the Gulf of Mexico. The exit to the Gulf via the Mississippi River Passes (Head of Passes, South Pass, or Southwest Pass) is a longer but sometimes necessary route for deeper-draft boats. Southwest Pass is the main shipping channel — well-marked, maintained depth, and very busy with commercial traffic. Time the ebb current and move briskly.

Biloxi and the Mississippi Sound: The Barrier Islands

The Mississippi Sound, between the mainland and the chain of barrier islands that run from Ship Island east to Petit Bois Island, is some of the most underrated sailing water on the central Gulf Coast. The sound is shallow — 6 to 10 feet over much of it — and requires chart attention, but the barrier islands create a protected cruising area with several exceptional anchorages.

Ship Island, about 12 miles offshore from Biloxi, is the most accessible. The anchorage on the west side of the island is protected in most conditions, the holding is good, and Fort Massachusetts — a brick Civil War-era fortification on the island's western tip — is worth the dinghy ride ashore. Ship Island was split into two islands (East and West) by Hurricane Camille in 1969 and the pass between them has gradually narrowed since; the western island carries the fort and the better anchorage.

Horn Island, further east, is the wilderness version: no facilities, no ferry service, no development. The island is part of Gulf Islands National Seashore and is accessible only by private boat. The anchorage on the north side is good in south winds; the island itself is a designated wilderness with significant birdlife and, in the right season, loggerhead turtle nesting activity. Walter Anderson, the Mississippi artist, spent time on Horn Island in extraordinary isolation. It remains a place that rewards the effort.

Biloxi itself is a working fishing port turned casino town — the casino barges along the waterfront give the harbor an unusual visual character. The Small Craft Harbor in Biloxi has transient slips and is a reasonable base for exploring the barrier islands. Gulfport, to the west, has a larger marina with better facilities and is worth considering if Biloxi's slips are full.

Hurricane Preparation Culture

Any sailor who spends time on the Louisiana-Mississippi coast quickly absorbs the local hurricane culture. It is not an anxious culture — it is a practical one, developed over generations of watching the Gulf and making decisions about when to leave and when to stay. The watching starts when a named storm enters the Gulf of Mexico, intensifies when it tracks toward the northern Gulf, and becomes action when the cone of probability touches local waters.

The haul-out decision is the central one. Boatyards in the New Orleans area and along the Mississippi coast can haul boats and store them on land relatively quickly; they have done it many times. The question is lead time — yards fill up fast when a serious storm is approaching and the boats that call ahead get the travel lifts while the boats that wait do not. Local lore holds that the decision to haul needs to be made when the storm is still five or more days out, not three days out when everyone else is calling.

Katrina (2005) and Ida (2021) are the reference events in the regional memory. Katrina's surge devastated the marina infrastructure along the Mississippi coast and in Lake Pontchartrain; boats that were hauled and properly blocked survived better than boats left in slips in most cases, but some haul-out yards were also damaged. Ida hit the western Louisiana coast harder than the Mississippi Sound area; boats in the Lafourche and Terrebonne parish waterways fared poorly. The lesson both storms reinforced: distance from the storm track matters as much as being hauled, and knowing which direction to flee — and which roads will still be passable — is not something to figure out at the last minute.

← Gulf Destinations  |  Louisiana Marinas →