Oh, my—what a ride! I came on board the Delta Queen in Baton Rouge April 21, and will leave her in New Orleans November 25. I spent three weeks during this season on vacation, and from August 21 to September 28 aboard the Mississippi Queen. Only in the past couple of days have I felt even remotely the sense that it was time for a break. I have certainly missed my family and friends. But as for the experiences of this season? I will put it this way: I have done so many things on my “things to do before I die” list that I will have to make a new list!
The past few cruises have made me think a lot about this old boat and her future. There are a lot of people who are so loyal to her. I feel strongly, and so do many people, that we should keep her going as long as we can. She represents the time in our country when our rivers were our highways. Without steamboats, we would not have settled this land so quickly. The Delta Queen is the last of her kind—the only wood super structured overnight passenger steamboat left in America. She is worth it.
Why do so many people return time after time? Stand at the top of the stairs on the cabin deck and watch as passengers come aboard the first day. First-timers are amazed when people who have been on before come aboard. Passengers and crew exchange joyous greetings and hugs, much to the bewilderment of the onlookers. I’ve experienced it myself, as a passenger (after one trip) and as a crewmember, even though I’d only been on a few weeks myself. It does not take long to become “family” on this boat. That is part of her magic.
As for me, I have changed. This whole adventure was completely outside the box for me in many ways. I am by nature much more cautious, and have relied far too heavily on other people much of my life. I don’t take risks; I don’t even like going to strange cities by myself! I have never worked in food service before. Most of the jobs I’ve held have been in education, so the idea of starting out as a bartender was a stretch for me. My work ethic is strong. I was determined that what I did not have in experience as a bartender I would make up in willingness and a good attitude. I did not question my ability to live communally, nor was I worried about the small space or lack of amenities aboard a boat. I don’t require much, and generally get along well with most people. I was far more worried about making the drinks and pulling my weight!
At first, I think, the crew did not know how to take me. I was just so happy to be on the boat. After all, I was fulfilling a life-long dream. I know I must have seemed crazy at times. I was walking around all the time with a smile on my face. If I felt at all out of sorts, I would look out a window and see the river. It would remind me that I was doing something most people never get to do. I had dreamed all my life of working on the Delta Queen, and I was living it.
Let me tell you about the crew of the Delta Queen. Everyone works hard—some harder than others, but most folks have long hours, and everyone works seven days a week. There are a lot of crew members who work strange hours, like the dining room staff. They get up very early to get breakfast going, then get a small break before lunch. After lunch, they get a few hours before dinner. They will have to get up again after the show to set up for breakfast. They never get more than a few hours of sleep at a time. Of course, many people in navigation and engineering work six hour watches. This means they work for six hours, try to wind down, sleep, eat, shower, do laundry, etc. in the next six hours, then work another six, and sleep again. How they do it, I can’t imagine. The galley crew works shifts that keep the kitchen going 24 hours a day so that you can have fresh sticky buns in the morning. The laundry makes sure your towels are washed for you at all hours, too. You might be surprised at how many of the people who serve you have college degrees. Some of them are there because it is a job. Some are there because they love the boat. Some can’t wait to get home. Some are running away from home.
One of the most important things about this season has been the friendships I’ve made. I’ve said it before—I hate turnover day. The passengers leave, but so do crew. Yes, some folks come back. But now, some crew are leaving, and I wonder if I’ll ever see them again. With the changes in ownership, no one knows who will be returning next year. I have a tremendous amount of respect for the guys who have cared for and guided this boat over the years—some of them for twenty-five years! I worry about what will happen to her if they are gone. There have been times in the history of the Delta Queen when she has been held together with postage stamps and baling wire. These guys know where it is. When something does not work right, they generally know the three things that might be the cause. They have a history with her, and know her intimately. Someone else—even someone with experience with old steam engines, if you can find such a person—still will not know her. I’ve been optimistic so far with the new company. I just hope they will do the right thing.
When I first came to the engine room, I was regarded with a certain amount of suspicion. Who is this woman in our space, and what does she want? I just wanted to understand the engine a little more! I’m not mechanical, and two-dimensional pictures did not do it for me. Gradually, they came to accept me, and they taught me enough about the engine that I can explain more than most people want to know. I don’t know what they would say to you about me. They are the salt of the earth. They are good family guys. They tease me mercilessly, but I feel safe with them (all of the guys on the boat, in every department, are protective of the women on the boat, by the way). I bring them cookies from the bakery in Paducah; candy at Halloween. I will miss them profoundly. It will embarrass them to no end, but I will probably cry when I say goodbye in NOLA. I rarely cry, but I will do it then. They mean a lot to me.
When I was on the MQ, I made an attempt to get to know at least some of the crew in all of the departments over there. As riverlorian, I can eat in the officers’ mess. I rarely do, because it cuts me off from a lot of people I truly like. On the MQ, I rotated—some meals in the officers’ mess; some in the crew mess; some at the table where the engineers always eat (knowing the engineers is always good—they can answer questions for you. Plus, they are nice guys). But on the MQ, it was frustrating. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get to know everyone. On the DQ, it is possible to get to know every crew member. It is more like family here. So I do eat in the officers’ mess sometimes, but that is usually because the crew mess is crowded, or someone I’ve agreed to meet wants to eat there.
So many people here have gone out of their way to be kind to me. I have had some extraordinary opportunities to do things most people do not get to do. I know that it was apparent how much I loved the boat—and that opened some doors. But a lot of people love the boat. I wish I could thank everyone who encouraged me along the way, but I guess I would have to list the whole crew! I will still tell you, the week I spent as watchman was the best week on the boat from the standpoint personal learning and satisfaction. Maybe I’d get tired of it, but I look back on it with great nostalgia. I’ve thanked those folks before, but there is no substitute for the time I spent in the pilothouse. I continue to be grateful for that wonderful opportunity, and will remember it for the rest of my life. I have nothing but admiration for the captains, pilots and mates of the vessels. They are very serious about the boats, navigation and the laws, but are wonderful human beings, too.
(written by Mary Charlton, just posted by Franz Neumeier)
