Chattanooga in the morning—wow, what a couple of weeks!  Life on a steamboat—does it get any better than this??  We have had a couple of nice cruises, nice people for the most part.  What is fun for me is that we have started to get some repeaters, people who have already been on once this season.  They see me, and we exclaim in delight.  We are glad to see each other, to catch up.  And it sure is a small world.  I’ve run into a woman who was the teacher of a friend I worked with at Findlay College; the teacher of the son of a friend, and a man who was about to see my family doctor for the first time, and wanted to know what she was like!  I got to meet Kathy and Dave Para, who worked in the Film a Mighty Wind.  (If you haven’t seen it, it is a very campy parody of the folk song era).  We had a bluegrass cruise, and the band they had was fantastic.  They packed every venue they played.  They are called the Steep Canyon Rangers, and their song One Dime at a Time is number one on the bluegrass charts.  A nicer group of young men you couldn’t meet. They met in college at U of NC, except for the fiddler, who graduated from Berklee College of Music, which my son Frank attends!

 Another wonderful coincidence was that I met Shipyard Sam, one of my steamboats.org friends, and one of the people on my list of persons to meet.  He is a past master of the Delta Queen.  He and his wife were in Decatur, buying a boat, while we were in port, and just happened to look down at the river while driving across the bridge.  When they saw the DQ, they came over to visit.  What an honor!! He has encouraged me to start a blog on the website, and I think I will—once things get settled.

My rope skills are slowly progressing.  I can do a short splice now pretty well.  A long splice eludes me, but it is a pretty complicated thing to do well.  I can tie a bowline knot, which is a very useful knot.  It is quick and relatively sturdy in a lot of situations. I’m hoping to get a monkey fist before long, and have a knot book at home to practice with.

In other news, I’m staying on an extra week.  The Coast Guard requires a certain number of people to be aboard the boat as deckhands. They are one body short this week, and asked for a volunteer.  I really didn’t think they’d pick me, but they did!  Of course, they will not ask me to do any heavy work, but I’ll have an opportunity to see things and do things I’d never see otherwise. The slot they are putting me in is as watchman.  I will walk the whole boat, alternating with another person, from 10 PM to 6 AM, turning a key in time stations. I will also do some security jobs, like checking people onto the boat, and since I have borrowed some steel-toed boots, I might get to do some real work—whatever the mate thinks I can safely do.  It has the added benefit that I will spend a fair amount of time in the pilothouse at night, and be able to talk to the pilots. Now, how could I pass this up??  It will help me in the new job I start on August 21—riverlorian aboard the Mississippi Queen, alternating with my friend Travis, four weeks on, four weeks off!  Obviously, I am very excited about it.  I’ll miss my boat, and my people, but I plan to stay in touch, and I’ll be back. By the way, I am very honored to be chosen for both jobs.  Oddly, I’m especially honored about the watchman job.  After all, I am in my 50s, and not especially fit, except for hauling buckets of ice and running up and down the stairs all day. This is a job that is often on the route to getting your license, and not traditionally a job women do. But I sure will learn a lot. I promise more details later.

The Great Steamboat Race of 2006—I am somewhere between Vicksburg and Helena, on the Mississippi River.  We are racing our sister boat, the Mississippi Queen, or as we call her, That Other Boat.  This is an annual race, usually between New Orleans and St. Louis, but this year we started in Baton Rouge, thanks to Katrina.  More than anything, it is a set of time trials on stretches of the river, where it is safe to race, and where we have determined there is no traffic. Also, we are accumulating points towards the Commodore’s Cup.  We win points at various passenger and crew competitions, as well as each leg of the race we win.  Of course, we’ll beat That Other Boat.

In the spirit of competition, I was talked into something I swore I would not do.  One of the first contests is the Ms. Natchez Under-the-Hill. This is in an area of the city once known for unsavory activity, so you can guess what the title involves.  Female passengers are invited to dress up as Floozies, and they may bring along anything they need.  Crew floozies must dress from the trunk of clothes provided. Well, at the last minute, the HR director talked me into representing the crew, as there was only one person signed up.  This involved a complicated covering of my schedule, as the DQ contest was during the evening show, which I was supposed to work. Floozies should have “business managers,” and I started asking around.  My first choice was the Chief Engineer, Chief Harold.  He begged off, saying he had too much paperwork to do for the race to do it, but he’d do it next time (are you kidding?! You think there is going to be a next time??!!).   All my buddies in engineering loved the idea of me doing it, but refused the honor.  I was very close to having one of the pilots convinced.  Captain Shultz would have been great.  He asked what he would have to do, and I told him, just walk with me—I’ll do the rest!! I asked the second mate, Dave, who is teaching me how to splice line—he laughed and walked away very quickly. The only person who said he would do it is my dear friend, Bela, the watchman, and I didn’t ask him. I’d have to get him very drunk to make him believable.  In the end, one of the guys from housekeeping escorted all four of us, and Phil was terrific.
I really had the advantage among the crew, because I knew every passenger.  I serve them at mealtimes, so I talk with everyone, even the ones who don’t drink. That means I know which guys I can pick on during this show—whose lap I can sit on, who gets a kiss, who gets teased with the feather boa.  Captain Schultz even came, so I threw some pearls around his neck.  Much to my dismay, the audience picked the HR director and me to represent the boat the next morning in the contest with That Other Boat at the Natchez Civic Auditorium.

Now, I hate stages.  I needed someone to work off of.  I don’t consider myself sexy, so doing this straight would not work.  I needed a plan.  I added a cowboy hat to my costume, and told my “business manager,” Phil, what I needed him to do. When it was my turn, I pretended to argue with him about going out there, and then started to show off my wares at “point 1”on the stage. At “point two”, I threw my hat at him and vamped a bit, and at three, I threw my shoe and strutted. By then, I could escape the stage—but my strategy backfired.  I won! Apparently, the comedy is what made it work. It was the longest 45 seconds of my life!

When I got back to the boat, trying to look as small as I could, the Master of the Vessel, Captain Mike, was on the bow. I’ve said hi to him, of course, but nothing more. One of the passengers asked him to pose with me.  Just great—I meet the captain, and it is while I am dressed as a floozie!! After that, I walked straight back to engineering, shaking my feather boas all over the clean floors.  Those traitors had the nerve to complain about it, and I just said, “Sweep ‘em up!”   Although I changed into my steamboating T-shirt, I wore that cowboy hat with my tiara on the band for the rest of the day! (By the way, a couple of days later, I said hi to the captain, as I always do, and this time he responded by saying, “Hi, Mary,”—the first time he used my name!).

I am still having the time of my life.  I enjoy working on the boat, and I love the people.  I feel so at home here.  My requirements are few. I’d like a little more time off every now and then, just to put on a skirt and walk around off the boat. But I have friends in every department of the boat. I’ve now been out on the fantail of the boat, the part around the paddlewheel.  They don’t let people out there, and it is a beautiful spot. I’ve been on the other side of the pitman arms, too, looking at the construction. I am enjoying the skills with the lines, too—listening to the explanations of why the lines are tied the way they are, so that the boat does not move. I’ve already made friends here I don’t ever want to lose.  Pat from the gift shop is one—we seemed to bond instantly.  Bela the watchman is fascinating—a font of knowledge about the river and boats, as well as being a philosopher and a dreamer. Seth, of course—he will bear watching as he figures out the direction he goes. This boat is full of wonderful people. And it is wonderful to watch the Delta Queen work her magic on the first-time passengers.  They come aboard not knowing what to expect, and leave with new friends and a determination to come back.

As for me, I get up early every morning, just to have time to see what is happening around the boat.  I say hi to folks, eat a little something, and look forward to my day. I feel confident and alive. I feel as if I’ve been doing this forever; as if I’ve been a part of this team forever.  I love it.

I’m now in St. Louis, getting ready to start another cruise in a few hours.  The Great Steamboat Race of 2006 is over.  We creamed the Mississippi Queen on the Commodore’s Cup—probably the biggest point spread ever.  But because of that, That Other Boat won the actual race. It was also her turn. Of course, it was rigged—we could beat her, as both boats have the same horsepower, we are much smaller, and we have the best engineers.  But the handwriting was on the wall when we won the Commodore’s Cup.  It was fun, anyway.  A great group of passengers, too.  I did work my tail off in the dining room, doing the work of three people, and I had only two hours or less off a day between 9 am and 10:30 pm each day for ten days, but I made it.

Yesterday was July 4th, and we had the best seats in the house for the St. Louis fireworks.  We were docked near the Gateway Arch. Bela had invited a couple of friends he knows in St. Louis, so I clocked out for an hour and joined them on the Texas deck to watch.  The fireworks were pretty spectacular—not as good as Cincinnati’s Riverfest, but you couldn’t ask for a better seat. Then it was back to work, cleaning the bar!  Today is a Coast Guard inspection, so I was determined it be perfect.

Once again, it is turnover day—some crew leave, and some return.  It is getting a little easier.  One chief engineer leaves, and I’ll miss him, but then again, the other one returns, and I look forward to seeing him.  A couple of the engineering guys go, but then again, a couple of other ones return. I still wish we could all be here all of the time.  It really has become like family in a lot of ways. You get sick, they bring you soup. It’s your birthday; you get balloons on your door. How can I complain? I’m steamboating.

Live from Natchez!  I’m back on the Delta Queen—sailed from Memphis on Monday.  Good cruise, nice folks.  I’m in the bar all the time, instead of splitting my time with the dining room, and enjoying it more than I thought I would.  I start at 2 P.M., taking an actual dinner break for half an hour, and another break from 9-10.  If things are not busy, I close the bar at 11:30, which has been the case every night so far. Things have never been nuts, and I’ve never made a drink I was unfamiliar with.  It is pretty hot down south, so this has been a beer crowd—easier to deal with, although beer is cheaper.  But on the upside, I think they are drinking more—apparently while I was gone, tips were terrible.

My friend Seth is on vacation, and I am bereft!  I did see him before he left, as his “relief” had not arrived yet.  In engineering and navigation, they cannot leave until their replacement arrives—they are important people! Seth’s replacement is Ray, a retired Army Corps of Engineering guy.  He seems to be settling in fine—has already figured out which spot is mine on the bench. On his first full day on board, I was down in engineering when some passengers came down—some people I’d spoken to about coming to tour the engine room.  I jumped up and started showing them around until Ray was free!

Today we were in Vicksburg. My friend, Bela, the watchman, and I went to the old Courtyard Museum.  We spoke with the folks who were there, and toured the museum.  They had some nice artifacts from steamboats, including the antlers from the famous race between the Robert E. Lee and the Natchez in the 1800s, as well as a step plate from the Natchez and a chair that belonged to the captain of the Lee.  In case you did not know, the winner of a steamboat race traditionally is given antlers. Also, the biggest sternwheeler tow ever built sank near here—the Sprague—and the remains were in the riverbed until just a few years ago, when they were removed as a hazard to navigation.  Great pictures in the museum.
It’s a short entry, but I’ve learned to take advantage of every hot-spot. I am happy to be back on the boat.  Feels like home.

Hello, everyone!  I’m now in my third week of steamboating, and love it.  The schedule can wear on you, but the perks are great.  The schedule I am on for the next few weeks has me getting up around 7:30 to eat breakfast and watch the river a little before I get to work opening the Texas bar.  I go up to the Texas deck at 9, and have the bar ready for business at 10. I am there until about 1, sometimes 2, and usually get a break until 4.  Then I go back for Happy Hour, which gets really busy. At 5:30, I head down to the dining room for the first dinner seating.  I take drink and wine orders, and when that is over, pick up all the glasses and signed drink slips, and do it again for the second seating.  Then I help clean up until about 10.  All of the glasses have to be hand washed and polished, which takes forever. If you put the glasses through the dishwasher, they break more often than they should, and the water leaves spots.  There is still a lot to do when I leave, but the other dining room bartender is responsible for closing that bar.  This past cruise, which just got off the boat, was really hard.  There were a lot of people who drank, and mostly first-timers.  They expected a really high level of service, which can be tough with two people in the dining room,  and ran us ragged. There were times when every glass we had was in use, and we ran all over the boat looking for more!  But we sold a lot of liquor, which meant we made a lot of money.

I actually got up to the pilot house this week—while the boat was running!  There are very strict rules about that, and I would never ask to do that.  The Coast Guard regulates it, so it requires the permission of the Master of the Vessel, in this case, Captain Mike.  One of the night watchmen, Bela, knows I am very interested in all aspects of the river and the boat.  He asked one of the pilots if it would be possible.  Bela goes there as a part of his job, so is friendly with the pilots.  This pilot said it was fine with him, but he had to check it out with Captain Mike.  Permission was granted, and so for a wonderful half an hour, I watched the river from the pilot house.  By the way, Bela is the only person who has ever known the answer to my hardest steamboat trivia question. Here it is: in 1811, the first western steamboat, the New Orleans, traveled from Pittsburgh to New Orleans.  What was the name of the dog on the boat?  Extra points if you can name the breed.

It is now Sunday, May 14, 2006, and we are in Savannah, Tennessee.  This trip is a Civil War cruise, and most of the passengers are off to see the site of Shiloh.  

I continue to do things on this boat I’ve only dreamed of.  I got to oil the crossheads on the pitman arms the other day.  The pitmans are the long arms that are connected to the paddlewheel, and turn it. I stood up on a small spot next to the arm, and waited for the pitman to come by on the next rotation.  There are funnels rigged so that you can just dump the oil in.  I aimed for the center one, and hit it dead on. A few days later, I greased the paddlewheel. Naturally, it was just a matter of opening some valves and counting a few seconds, then closing the valve, all from the inside, but how many people do you know who can say they have greased a paddle wheel?  As you can tell, I am spending a lot of time in the engine room.  One of the engineers is a young man who graduated from the Maritime Academy.  Seth is 23, and is determined to teach me some engineering.  I haven’t told him how hopeless it is.  Right now, he is teaching me the refrigeration cycle.  I enjoy his company—it reminds me of my own guys.  I’ve also become friends with the chief engineer, Dennis Shenk, who is, along with the captain, one of the two officers who have quarters on the Sun Deck.  The rest of us live below the water.  The Chief reads a lot, and has been passing along books to me.

It is now Monday.  We are, as I speak, locking through a lock with barely inches to spare.  Wilson Lock is on the Tennessee River, and is so small that we were required to remove the stage in order to clear (the stage is the gangplank). Because of that, Coast Guard regulations require that we offload all the passengers, since there is no way to safely get them off the boat without a stage.  The large lock here is under repair, so we had to use this one. I have taken a lot of pictures, and it sure is a tight fit.  At one point, we had branches hanging over the rails! This means that the crew has a day off.  What amazes me is that most people are asleep, taking the opportunity to nap—except, of course, for engineering and navigation, who are very busy. But there are a few of us crazy river people up—too excited by this extraordinary opportunity.

I have become an expert at Bloody Marys and opening bottles of wine.  I don’t mind the job, although I’m not great at it—I’m better at the chatter than the drink-making.  But I love being on the boat.  Most of the passengers are very nice.  My fellow bartenders think I am crazy, but that’s OK—it is just a job to them.  I get to talk to people about the boat and steamboating. I’m learning more and more about how the boat works—including things like vacuums and steam.  It’s great. You can’t learn this from a book—at least, I couldn’t. I love it!