The riverboat captain is a storyteller. Captain Don Sanders shares 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
On Sunday, June 3, 2012, thirteen years ago this coming Tuesday, Everett Dameron and I arrived exhausted at Great River Harbor & Marina, located south of Alma, Wisconsin, after a 12½-hour rental truck ride from southeastern Indiana.

Seventeen days earlier, after unloading some unproductive stocks, I bought and became the owner of a handsome sternwheel replica called the CLYDE, named for a late 19th-century raftboat built and operated primarily on the Upper Mississippi River. Between the Great River Harbor and my home on the Middle Ohio River were nearly 1300 challenging miles of water.
Two weeks earlier, Everett and I had traveled to meet Ed Newcomb, the builder and proprietor of the CLYDE, to inspect the boat for Everett, as I already had a handsome 50-foot houseboat, the SUN*FISH, on the Tennessee River. Why would I want another? However, as fate would have it, I ended up acquiring perhaps the best-looking small paddlewheeler on the river after Ev’s financial plans changed. As soon as the CLYDE swapped hands, the two of us spent the next three days aboard the boat “souging,” or scrubbing the accumulation of time languishing in the boatyard. With Ed, we took two short rides on the swift Mississippi River. The CLYDE, I noted, “appears to handle much like the old-time steamboats I’d been on.”
The little CLYDE with rudders forward of the paddlewheel, and lacking steering, or “monkey” rudders aft of the wheel, behaved differently than sternwheel boats that had additional after-steering mechanisms. My first experience handling such a boat was aboard the DELTA QUEEN when she lost her monkey rudders after backing into the bank below Cannelton Lock and Dam.

Sternwheelers lacking monkey rudders, often referred to as “backing boats,” require reversing the paddlewheel astern to force water against the forward rudders for maneuverability. While Ed, Ev, and I gave the CLYDE a tryout on the maddening Mississippi, Ed remarked:
“The CLYDE’s been backed more since Don’s been aboard than she has since I built her.”
After three days had passed, arrangements with the marina proprietor allowed the boat to remain there. Meanwhile, Ev and I returned home to gather materials and supplies for the 1,300-mile delivery trip down the Mississippi to Cairo, before turning into the Ohio River for the remaining 481 miles. By the time we assembled all the supplies for the upcoming journey, our 18-foot rental truck overflowed with plunder: flotation life vests, a 12-foot aluminum jonboat, a heavy steel anchor, stout nylon line, and enough vittles to feed the crew of two.
The morning after our arrival, we were up early and enjoyed breakfast at the marina clubhouse before commencing to unload the truck. The waitress warned us the temperature was going to be a “hot” 80 degrees. But being from the humid Ohio River Valley, where temps often soar much higher, we laughed. After several hours unloading the van and packing the contents onto the boat, Ev and I both felt the impact of the Wisconsin heat. It WAS hot!

Later that day, Ed Newcomb came to the Marina and helped us finish unloading the spoils. Together, the three of us launched the BUSTER, the 12-foot skiff trucked from the mid-Ohio River. This day was the first time “Bussy” had been afloat since I restored her after acquiring the small aluminum boat from Captain Robert Lischkge, who had it lying in tall grass behind his house.
According to the logbook, BUSTER looked “purdy.” She was exactly the right size to fit across the bow of the CLYDE. Of all the merchandise packed aboard the CLYDE, BUSTER, the heavy anchor and the stout one-inch nylon anchor line were the most useful of all. Everett and I later agreed that these three items saved our “buns” several times from disaster.
My first row in the BUSTER found her to be very “tender,” or tipsy. Once firmly seated, I discovered she could fly across the water. Even in the swift elevated current of the Mississippi, with some effort, she climbed the tide of the Father of Waters. Returning to the dock, I announced that BUSTER “handled like a dream.”
After securing BUSTER alongside the CLYDE, Ed invited us to join him for lunch in Alma at Tater’s Dam View Bar alongside US Lock and Dam No. 4. Ed dropped us off at the Marina after lunch. Beaten by a day laboring and rowing in the Wisconsin heat, I napped until the Sun sank low on the horizon. With the cooler temperatures, BUSTER and I enjoyed another row, while I took pictures of my new paddlewheeler from offshore.

By the following morning, Tuesday, June 5, 2012, Everett and I were out of our bunks around 5:30 a.m. After a shower at the clubhouse, I perked a pot of strong steamboat-style coffee in the new, $8 coffeemaker. “Not bad,” I noted. That cheap coffeemaker lasted the entire time I owned the CLYDE, and even recently, when my expensive coffee pot went on the fritz, I looked all over for the CLYDE’s four-cupper.
That afternoon, Captain Ted Davisson called and reported that he was unavailable to accompany the delivery trip. I wondered if Everett and I would be a crew of two on the long and perilous journey to deliver the boat to her new home. Later, we returned the truck to the rental company’s branch office in Winona, Minnesota.
Back aboard the CLYDE, Ed, while working on the electrical system, noticed a low voltage reading, so he removed the alternator and took it to have it “checked out.” Meanwhile, after returning to the boat, Ev and I removed the forward and starboard pilothouse window casings so Ed could replace the rotted wooden corner post between the windows on the forward and starboard sides.

On Wednesday, June 6, noted as “D-Day” in the log, marking the 68th anniversary of the 1944 Allied invasion in Normandy, France, during World War II, the crew of two awoke at 6:30. Ev fried eggs and bacon, while the small coffeepot once again satisfied our taste for morning joe. The river, still running swiftly following a high-water episode, was slowly receding. Great River Harbor & Marina could not be beat for a place to wait for the river to subside. I could have called it “home,” the same as I did Jay’s Landings Marina in Decatur, Alabama, where the SUN*FISH stayed.
Again, I took BUSTER for a row on the rushing river and would have stayed longer except that the CLYDE needed my attention. Alone, relaxed, and floating on the breast of the Mississippi River with no sounds but the wind and the water lapping around a diving buoy, my thoughts turned to imagining Harlan and Anna Hubbard’s shantyboat days living on the “fringe of society.”
Back at the CLYDE, Ed soon arrived with a new wooden corner post. With the deft hands of a master carpenter, Ed quickly removed the deteriorated post and replaced it with the new one. Once done, he proudly proclaimed:

“There are two kinds of carpenters — barn carpenters and boat carpenters — and you will never find a barn carpenter in a boatyard.”
Our day started at 7:30 a.m. on Thursday, June 7, 2012. Ev, who was in charge of all the meals onboard, provided puffed wheat cereal and toast for breakfast, accompanied by stout, steamboat-style coffee. Soon after breakfast, the two of us replaced the window frames, glass, and screens in the pilothouse. A light shower came and went. As promised, we went to Winona and found a deep-cycle battery and a short stepladder. Ed bought the CLYDE a new starting battery.
Back at the dock, Everett and I enjoyed a burger and egg sandwich, a specialty of the clubhouse. A while later, Ed brought a pail of freshly-picked strawberries. “How tasty they were,” notes a logbook entry.
On Friday, June 8, my day began at 6 a.m. with a row where the current slackened off sufficiently. However, the river remained “hot” downstream. Later, we decided to leave on Monday if all else goes well. Everett topped off the potable (drinking) water tank as I scrubbed the Main Deck. While fixing lunch, Ev caught a fringed dish towel on fire on the stove and burned the tips of his fingers. Ed dropped by afterwards and installed a new belt for the compressor.

That evening, Everett grilled chicken breasts and potatoes with applesauce and the strawberries Cindy Newcomb, Ed’s wife, sent to the boat. Mr. and Mrs. Newcomb were our guests aboard for dinner. Ev converted the bow into an outdoor dining area and made a culinary presentation worthy of the finest steamboats on the river. At 11 p.m., the log records “a mysterious ball of fire passing just north of us — mighty strange.”
Saturday, June 9, was a sunny, beautiful day with a strong wind. We were up at 6 am and started the weekend with scrambled eggs and fried bacon. At 12:45 p.m., the CLYDE departed the dock and went to the pump-off barge. Afterwards, Ed, Everett, and I took the sternwheeler on a ride upriver. The “boat handles well — we should become friends… sooner, or later,” I noted. After doing laundry in Alma, we had burgers and salad at Great Rivers Marina, where I informed Hale and Janet Evans, the owners, that the CLYDE was planning to leave on Monday. However, Ed had to take the alternator to a repair shop on Monday.
“Skeeters are mean after dark. Without lights, bed is the best place to go after a generous slathering of OFF.” CLYDE’s Log.
On Sunday, June 10, Ev and I were up at 5:30, while all was quiet in the Marina. “This might be the cook’s day off,” my crewmate announced over coffee. I suggested a “fast” before taking BUSTER out for a morning row. The rest of the day, we piddled around. Ev cleaned the pilothouse while I read another chapter of a book by Farley Mowat, “my favorite author besides MT.” Sunday was a hot but lovely day. Perhaps the busiest I was, besides rowing, was hanging a small, red-painted iron bell in the galley, where it became the General Alarm, dinner, and beer bell. A “three-way bell,” I called it. That evening, we were guests of the Newcombs at the Pickle Factory Restaurant on Lake Pepin.

Monday, June 11, was a cloudy and cooler day. A thunderstorm swept through during the night, but no harm happened to the CLYDE or the harbor. I bought four gallons of gas for the outboard motor I brought along for the BUSTER and the small portable generator. The blustery night, with winds a’howling, brought cold air to the river. Calling home, my wife, Peggy, informed me that CLYDE’s boat insurance expired on either the 17th or 19th of July. According to the news, we had just over a month to get the boat to the Middle Ohio River. This pronouncement made all the difference in our plans to bring the CLYDE home. As soon as we departed, we were on a race to get to Southeastern Indiana while the CLYDE was still insured.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012, was a clear, cooler day with gusty winds. Everett fixed pancakes, bacon, and coffee for the morning meal. Jonathan Tchiggfrie, calliope aficionado and the son of David Tchiggfrie, my long-time friend and the editor of the S&D Reflector, drove down from St. Paul after hearing that the CLYDE and crew, including Ed Newcomb, planned to depart before noon.
The busy morning found us scurrying about preparing to depart the Great River Marina. At 11:25, the CLYDE left her mooring for the last time. As we passed the clubhouse, everyone was outside cheering. Soon, we entered the Mississippi River channel heading downbound. “Southward, Ho,” noted the log. At 12:15 p.m., a pair of Bald Eagles soared over the boat. The long trip to CLYDE’s new home had just begun.
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, sharing his stories of growing up in Covington and his stories of the river. Hang on for the ride — the river never looked so good.
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