The riverboat captain is a storyteller, and Captain Don Sanders will be sharing the stories of his long association with the river — from discovery to a way of love and life. This a part of a long and continuing story.
By Capt. Don Sanders
Special to NKyTribune
“Where the hell’s this cold coming from so soon?” was the question asked a million times this past week, especially by deckhands chipping ice off the decks of barges a month earlier than usual. Even I found myself shortsighted though I knew the forecast from the constant droning of the weathermen and women on the Cincinnati tv station, I watched if I got home in time from my paddlewheeler, Rafter CLYDE. Wednesday, a week earlier, I painted what I figured were the last strokes with the brushes and rollers until next Spring. Still, the most crucial assignment, winterizing a river fed cooling system, was put off until “later in the month” when CLYDE’s Chief Engineer, Phillip Johnson, could find time to drive nearly a hundred miles each way to do the job right.
Instead, Phillip could not get away from his heavy schedule, and the unheated boat was at the mercy of the elements. Even my cheap little TracFone telephone suffered when the cold front hit while Phillip and I discussed alternatives to keep the water system from freezing.
Eventually, we decided on putting a couple of heat bulbs into the engine compartment to see how they would do. A few winter seasons ago, I discovered heat bulbs usually used in hen houses at a feed and seed store and bought several plus two electrical fixtures I found handy to moderate the temps in the forward, Number-One Hold. The Engine Hold is the next aft or Number-Two. With Chief Phillip’s suggestions, the heat lamps found a place in the # 2 compartment where they would, likely, do the best good. Hesitantly, I also broke down and purchased a thermal-sensing temperature “gun” from the big-box store, which gave me the latitude to determine various temperatures inside, outside, and in the water alongside the boat. Found in the back closet inside the Captain’s Stateroom, a 30-some-year-old, but reliable, “micro furnace” kept the air temperature in the Forward Cabin above the engine compartment in the mid-thirties to low forties as the air outside quickly plunged below freezing.
The river surface showed 44-degrees but soon began falling, too. I wasn’t worried about the water as it would take several days of very low temps to cool off that mass of H2O. After two very bitter, mid-winter-type nights, the temperatures rose to nearly seasonable levels while the engine still awaits the arrival of the Chief.
Out on the river, towboat deckhands chipped ice and snow frozen to steel barges before they found the footing needed to make a lock. Rigging and lines gave the hands even more concern. Though decking aboard a tow is hazardous in all weather, wintry blasts make the job worse. There’s no room for error when working with thousands of tons of steel and cargo upon a moving fluid unfriendly to human life, especially when the liquid beneath them reaches temperatures where it wants to turn into a solid called ice.Up in the pilothouse, circumstances changed, too. My long-time friend, Captain Bob Reynolds, posted, “Interesting phenomenon. In extreme bitter weather, the moisture freezes on the inside of our pilothouse windows. The outside temp is 23 degrees, but inside it is 70 degrees! Comfortable sitting in here, yet, ice is on the INSIDE of this window!”
On the Upper Mississippi River at LeClaire, Iowa above the Quad Cities, Debbie Hansohn Felsing had this observation on a frigid Tuesday: “I saw the W. RED HARRIS pass by our house in LeClaire this morning. The air was so cold it created steam over the water. Wishing everyone a safe trip – these cold temps are no joke.”
Aboard the M/V NORTHLAND, a busy towboat on the Illinois River, deckhand Ryan Allen shared a photograph of what looked like a line of barges filled with snow as his tow headed upriver toward Peoria. More-likely, coal was beneath the white covering bound for a power-generating station.
Meanwhile, Captain “Big Ed” Utterback stubbornly challenged, “I’m headed out for ice cream! Who’s going?” To which, someone on a distant line boat replied, “I’d join you, Cap, but my boots froze solid to the deck.”
At Lock & Dam No. 2, on the Upper below St. Paul, Lock Operator Angel Binner, posted a shot of her lock covered with a generous, frozen layer of ice between the concrete walls with just this comment: “And it begins…”
One cold snap does not a winter make, but one suddenly appearing just thirty days after ninety-degree days nearly boiled the river was quite a shock to everyone, myself included. In another month, freezing days will be the norm, and fifteen barge loads of “white stuff” will routinely pass unnoticed except to only the most ardent river observers.
The Ohio River has yet to freeze solid since January 1978 when thousands of foolhardy pilgrims clamored onto the ice in the Cincinnati harbor while I watched from ashore below the mouth of the Licking River on the Kentucky side. Of all my river experiences, I cannot say I ever walked on the ice of a frozen river. I don’t know precisely why I didn’t venture out with the rubes. Fear surely was not the reason I stayed ashore.I’d rather say it was respect for an old friend and companion, The River, was the reason I missed what may have been the last chance in my lifetime to boast that I trod upon a frozen Ohio River. That is, unless this coming winter, still some four weeks away, upstages the ‘78 edition.
Or as old Cap’n Plumlee often advised, “Let’s wait an’ see what happens.”
Captain Don Sanders is a river man. He has been a riverboat captain with the Delta Queen Steamboat Company and with Rising Star Casino. He learned to fly an airplane before he learned to drive a “machine” and became a captain in the USAF. He is an adventurer, a historian, and a storyteller. Now, he is a columnist for the NKyTribune and will share his stories of growing up in Covington and his stories of the river. Hang on for the ride — the river never looked so good.
Great pictures along with another great story. THANKS!
Great Description of coming Winter. Affirmation of my decision to live near New Orleans, although we had some 30’s and 40’s too. In contrast to those on the River, Nothing I Had to do.
Thanks again for a peek into life on the river!
Thanks for your nice comments.