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
Just 55 years ago, on Tuesday, September 7, 1971, was a day much like the sweltering late-summer days we’ve suffered through recently. Written in my hand, an entry in the Official Logbook for the DELTA QUEEN recalls that the day was “Hot, humid, 90-degrees.” On board the sternwheeler were155 passengers and a crew not exceeding 92, bound for the “Fall Trip — Cincinnati to New Orleans and Return.”
Captain Ernest E. Wagner, Master of the DELTA QUEEN, was the person in general charge. His pilots that day, leaving Cincinnati, were Captain Harry Louden on the front watch, 6 a.m. to noon, and 6p.m. to midnight, working with Captain Wagner. Cap’n Harry’s “pard” on the opposite back watch was Captain “Handsome Harry” Hamilton, with me, First Mate Don Sanders, working opposite Cap’n Wagner, in charge of the vessel while “Big Cap” caught up on his rest in his cabin near the foot of the pilothouse stairs on the starboard side of the Sun Deck. All three Captains, Wagner, Louden, and Hamilton, were rivermen of legendary proportions.
All morning long, the DELTA QUEEN was a whirlwind of activity, readying herself for departure on another exciting adventure on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. All steamboat journeys have been grand and exciting affairs since the Steamer NEW ORLEANS blazed the way as the first steamboat on the rivers west of the Allegheny Mountains in 1811. Behind the scenes, and usually below decks, each department readied the DELTA QUEEN for a noon, or “shortly thereafter,” departure from the Cincinnati Public Landing, where the QUEEN had been coming and going since March 1948.
Sharing the single walkway, or “stage,” with arriving guests who brought what often seemed like mountains of luggage were last-minute truckload orders of groceries, bagged ice, laundry, linens, and even several 55-gallon drums of lubricating oil for the engineroom. My deck crewmen (no women were working on deck in 1971) stayed busy assisting porters, kitchen workers, and engineers with unloading the late-arriving stores, in addition to the duties we “deckies” were charged with before every departure and arrival.
My boys had huge potable water tanks in the lower engine room to fill and monitor until the very last moment, making sure the DELTA QUEEN had every possible last drop of drinking water on board. Just minutes before the three-chimed Lunkenheimer whistle gave the call for departure, and the Skipper rang the QUEEN’S historic QUEEN CITY bronze bell on the Hurricane Roof, the Mate-in-Charge, myself, or 2nd Mate Jim Blum personally verified the water tanks were filled to overflowing and so signaled the crew to disconnect the hoses from the Cincinnati water system. As quickly as mice, the deckhands rolled up the hoses and stowed them for the next time clean drinking water was available.
Garbage, waste, and trash removal was another deck department responsibility. A year earlier, on the DELTA QUEEN in 1970, a trash chute was mounted outside the starboard outside door in front of the engineroom. This was the steamboat’s way of disposing of waste when no alternatives existed for getting rid of unwanted garbage and trash between the departure and arrival ports of call. As First Mate, my job was to ensure the waste was dumped overboard late at night, when most passengers were not on deck.
Thankfully, some passenger-lady happened to be above us one night with a camera and photographed the whole nasty affair and sent the photos to her representative in the U.S. Congress. 1970 was also the historic “Save the DELTA QUEEN” year when we were appealing to citizens and politicians, alike, to exempt the QUEEN from the SOLAS, or “Safety of Life at Sea” law which threatened, at the end of that year, to prevent the DELTA QUEEN from carrying more than 50 passengers aboard overnight.
The garbage-dumping photos certainly damaged the pristine image the QUEEN was trying to project. Starting immediately after the embarrassing event, an empty 20-yard trash container awaited at each planned stop. Whoever that dear woman was, she should have a statue erected on the riverbank, somewhere, honoring her for what good she accomplished that night.
With the drinking water aboard and all the possible waste taken ashore, filling a dumpster or roll-off container stationed close to the DELTA QUEEN on the cobblestoned public landing, and after the magnificent whistle and bell had already given their last warnings fifteen minutes earlier, Captain Wagner’s booming voice, amplified by the pilothouse-to-deck PA system, boomed across the ancient steamboat landing:
“BREAK UP.”
Immediately, the deck crew and I did what we did best. With animated and practiced movements, we hauled in the mooring lines, beginning with the sternline as Captain Hamilton signaled the engineers, “Ahead Slow,” on the Engine Order Telegraph (EOT).
“LET YOUR SPRING LINE GO.”
The QUEEN had a good “bill hold” on the riverbank, and the stern twisted outboard into the mainstream of the Ohio River as I opened the steam valve controlling the powerful capstan and tightened the headline. Still, the 50-foot steel boarding stage was slung inboard above the granite block levee with enough room for the last deckhand to climb aboard once he untied the headline.
“LET EM ALL GO…”
Cap’n Wagner called from high above the river on the wingbridge projecting outboard from the pilothouse, where the Skipper could direct the Pilot stationed close by while communicating his commands to me on the bow, where I directed my hands accordingly. Once the headline was free and the last deckhand scampered across the stage to the deck, I called:
“ALL GONE.”
Almost immediately, the DELTA QUEEN shook as the mammoth oaken paddlewheel began clawing at the Ohio River with the force of its powerful, condensing steam engines. Then….
The Lunkenheimer three-chimed steam whistle gave a prolonged scream announcing that the mighty DELTA QUEEN was underway. And then three short blasts warning all within hearing distance that the DELTA QUEEN was operating her propulsion machinery in reverse.
“WATCH OUT BEHIND ME–HERE I COME!”
Soon the DELTA QUEEN twisted around and began the 1,465-mile adventure from the Cincinnati Public Landing to the Poydras Street Wharf in New Orleans. By the time the QUEEN headed downstream, my boys had pulled the stage around and secured it on-center, with all lines made fast and everything in its proper place.
As soon as I gave the crew the okay to leave the deck, they rushed off to the Crew’s Mess for their fair share of the best fried chicken anywhere on the river. I don’t mind telling you, but I dropped by too and grabbed a few pieces wrapped in a paper napkin to nibble on in the pilothouse while I made my entries into Captain Wagner’s Log Book. While I was in there, I also grabbed a couple extra pieces for later. That mouth-watering DELTA QUEEN steamboat-style, southern fried chicken only came on “leaving days.”
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.
Click here to read all of Capt. Don Sanders’ stories of The River.
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.