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
What happened to 2025? A better question might be, “What happened to all the years?” They swept by so quickly. Were they even real? Eighty-four gone — now I’m in my eighty-fifth.
Only this morning — actually written on New Year’s Day, three days ago — my son Jesse reminded me that 2025 was actually a good year for us — no deaths within the immediate and extended family (including pets), bills caught up to date, groceries delivered, a dry roof overhead, and a comfortable, low-milage car in the driveway with a classic 1998 F-150 pickup truck parked at the curb. Count our blessings.
Late in the afternoon of the day before the beginning of the second-quarter of the 21st Century, William “Bill” Reynolds, of the Ohio River Museum at Campus Martius, Marietta, Ohio and the long-time caretaker of the museum’s steam towboat W.P. SNYDER, JR., and I spent one hour, 13 minutes, and 44 seconds chatting on our cell phones about river-related happenings. We both came away from our extended talk agreeing on how fortunate we’ve been in our lives to have seen so much and to have met so many participants during the last chronicles of the grand steamboat era. All are gone except for a few defiant examples.
Familiar names came up in our conversation. What’s steamboat talk without hearing of the personage of Captains Frederick Way, Jr., Ernest E. Wagner, and Clarke Campbell “Doc” Hawley? We mentioned Ed Smith, the celebrated fireman of the Streckfus line and the AVALON and DELTA QUEEN steamboats. Ed’s now immortalized in the National Rivers Hall of Fame. His induction ceremony is an anticipated event later this year —most likely in his hometown of St. Louis.
What’s a steamboat memory without recalling Captain John Emery Edgington, who received his pilot’s license in 1889? Cap’n Edgington always requested my assistance in helping tote his “grip” to the Grayhound Bus Station when he got off his route on the AVALON. He trusted me enough to “post” his personal mail, with envelopes hand-crafted in the most exquisitely written script, to post offices ashore. Only John Hartford’s handwriting ever came close to his. Cap’n Doc Hawley’s was next. Captain Edgington was 89 at the time– I was but 17.
Chief Purser Robert H. “Bob” McCann, another legendary steamboatman known personally to both Bill and me, was also fodder for our discussion. Bob McCann, perhaps best remembered as the Chief Purser for the DELTA QUEEN, also kept track of the finances aboard the GENERAL WOOD, GORDON C. GREENE, and others. Bob was a walking encyclopedia of steamboat knowledge. I told Bill that when I suggested to Purser McCann that he should record his information for posterity, he quipped, “I’ll never write anything down.” Bob remained true to his word. Regrettably, all his knowledge and memories were lost forever when he died on June 8, 1982, in Cincinnati.
When we mentioned New Orleans, Bill suggested he would rather stay away from the Crescent City. “Too much violence happening there,” he added.
My thoughts immediately returned to my younger days when New Orleans was like my second home. I told him how I would tire of Covington, across the Ohio River from Cincinnati, pack a duffel bag, and hitch a ride to the Greyhound station for the long ride to that southern haven, 95 miles upstream from where the “Father of Waters” and the gulfstream meet. I’d stay as long as my money held or the “action” played out — whichever came first — then I’d hop on the next coach north until the urge returned, and I’d repeat the process.
While we discussed the pros and cons of the Crescent City, I told Bill about the time when Captain Robert James “Roddy” Hammett, whose steamboat roots extended back in time to when he charted the Steamer AVALON for his high school senior class at St. Mary’s, West Virginia, was behind the wheel of his car, showing me some of the most treacherous intersections within the city. At a stoplight beneath a dark underpass, we patiently waited for a red light.
“Tourists get robbed and mugged, or worse, all the time here,” Roddy volunteered.
“Then, why are we stopping here?” I demanded. “Let’s get the hell outta here!”
Tragically, just a few short years later, an unknown perpetrator kidnapped and murdered Captain Roddy in his automobile on the familiar streets of the city he so fearlessly navigated.
Before Bill and I signed off on our extended phone call, we took time to remember two former Cincinnati steamboatmen the river community lost this past year– Captain James Robert “Jim” Blum and Maître d’ Robert “Bobby” Shearman.
Captain Jim and I first worked together aboard the DELTA QUEEN soon after I returned to the boat in the Spring of 1970, after four years of military service. I’d left the QUEEN in St. Louis with Mrs. Letha Greene and her daughter Jane to share a commercial jet flight to Cincinnati a couple of weeks before I volunteered for the Air Force. Soon after my discharge in December 1969, I called Captain Wagner for a job. After he asked if I wanted to “return to the engineroom, or go on deck,” I chose the deck, as I wanted to become a Captain on the DELTA QUEEN eventually. He made me the unlicensed 2nd Mate behind Captain Doc Hawley.
Soon after graduating from Cincinnati’s Xavier University, Jim Blum came aboard full-time, where he began a long and illustrious career on the river. Eventually, Cap’n Jim met and married Annie, a steamboat lady from Streckfus Steamers of St. Louis. Sadly, like a shockwave within the fluvial coterie, we learned of Cap’n Jim’s untimely passing early last year. The River: Quiet, dedicated and resilient, Capt. James R. ‘Jim’ Blum was a true pilot of the people – NKyTribune
Robert “Bobby” Shearman and I first met aboard the Steamboat MISSISSIPPI QUEEN when I came aboard as First Mate. Bobby, the Head Waiter and Maître d’, was a natural leader and an inspiration to others on the MQ crew, especially those who served with him in the dining room. After his passing, someone mentioned the mischievous adventures he had that should go down in the annals of steamboat history.
According to the disclosure I read, the MISSISSIPPI QUEEN, downbound above New Orleans, tied off for the night beyond the Crescent City instead of continuing to its appointed wharf not far from the French Quarter. Bobby Shearman was supposed to be in town for the evening. But with the boat tied off in the weeds above the city, his hopes of “a night on the town” took another turn.
Allegedly, Shearman packed his clothes and his uniform into a watertight plastic bag, slipped over the side into the Mississippi River, swam ashore, and made it safely to the Quarter for the evening. The next morning, when the MISSISSIPPI QUEEN landed at its wharf, there stood Bobby Shearman dressed and ready to assume his appointed duties.
Apparently, from what I also read, there was a lot of squawking over Bobby’s escapades. I wasn’t there, but when it all boils down, Bobby Shearman, an outstanding employee and steamboat man, deserved a break for his misadventures. Hopefully, he got off lightly. Whatever the outcome, Shearman’s bravado, although meant to be lowkey, ought to be remembered as one of the most incredible stories I’ve heard that happened to a steamboat crewmember since the time Captain Wagner handed Watchman Harry Ricco a twenty-dollar bill to go uptown to buy the skipper a watermelon. In those days during the late 1960s, that lucious, sweet red fruit, speckled with black seeds, cost less than 60 cents apiece.
About an hour later, instead of one watermelon, a truckload arrived at the AVALON, and we deckhands had the truck unloaded before the Captain came down from his quarters. As soon as Captain Wagner appeared on deck after taking his afternoon siesta, and seeing Harry, he asked:
“Hey, Ricco, did you get my watermelon?”
“Yess’er, Cap.”
“Then where’s my change?”
“Change…?”
We had watermelons stacked everywhere. The walk-in chill box had no more room. Every empty bunk bed had a load– even the engineroom had them stacked around. For the first few days, the whole crew reveled with so much lucious melon, but by the end of the week, no one wanted to hear the name, let alone eat another watermelon. After that, the Captain no longer trusted Harry Ricco with his money or the responsibility to run errands for him.
Just days later, as I was in the deckroom, Captain Wagner’s great booming voice rang out:
“Hey, Don… Come over here, I’ve got something I want you to do for me.”
That’s how my New Year’s Eve afternoon went last Wednesday. Bill Reynolds and I chatted a good, long while before wishing each other the best for the coming year, then hung up. So now, I’ll wish everyone a Happy New Year filled with good health, prosperity, and the best of everything decent imaginable.
And before I forget, copies of my book, THE RIVER, are still available via the link below.
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.
Purchase Captain Don Sanders’ The River book
Capt. Don Sanders The River: River Rat to steamboatman, riding ‘magic river spell’ to 65-year adventure is now available for $29.95 plus handling and applicable taxes. This beautiful, hardback, published by the Northern Kentucky Tribune, is 264-pages of riveting storytelling, replete with hundreds of pictures from Capt. Don’s collection — and reflects his meticulous journaling, unmatched storytelling, and his appreciation for detail. This historically significant book is perfect for the collections of every devotee of the river.
You may purchase your book by mail from the Northern Kentucky Tribune — or you may find the book for sale at all Roebling Books locations and at the Behringer Crawford Museum and the St. Elizabeth Healthcare gift shops.
Click here to order your Captain Don Sanders’ ‘The River’ now.