River World Field Trip, Alton, IL to Lake Charles, LA and back on a working towboat, 1956
October 24, 2015April 20, Friday
Cold clear and bright, but mighty chilly. Mile 566 at 6:15 a.m. Catfish Point Light.
Ten miles below Prentiss Landing and the extinct Napoleon, Ark. On the Caulk Cut-off, due east straight into the sunrise, on a fast current sweeping through the cut.
The DAVY CROCKETT, bright red and white. The river in the bends cuts on one side and deposits on the other. Therefore the outside of a bend has the deep water and boats follow along there, often very close to shore. We traveled so close to the banks — which were caving, and there was considerable fresh drift — that when I rode the end barge I could see into the woods, identify trees and flowers, and see and hear birds. We were going through the Choctaw country all morning.
Holes in sandbanks for bank swallows, and a rather nice, varied river woods above. We steered in so close it was like a walk in the woods, almost. Flocks of teal on the water.
The mouth of the Arkansas River at last, A huge sandbar lies in a boomerang shape in front of it, the river flowing out to the left. The sandbar is menacing and sheer, probably fifteen feet above the water, with great black snags embedded in it and thrusting forth like lances. In low water, the Captain says, that sandbar stands up twice as high or more, and is really something.
The woods of Rosedale Bend, redheaded woodpeckers, mockingbirds, red-eyed vireos, bank swallows. Hackberry, sycamore, elm, soft maple. The wind was cold but wonderfully exhilarating, and the sun was bright.
The HARRIET M. running neck and neck with the CAPE, but finally passing us because our propellers aren’t doing so well, we are going at five miles an hour.
Senecio golden in the woods. 9 a.m., mile 582, and snags nearly brushed off Roy as he was painting the signals. A black vulture in a tree looking curiously down at us. The mouth of the White River, with tall trees and not the usual sandbar, a beautiful stream. This was where the KATE ADAMS used to land so the Griffin boat could take on freight.
Back up to the pilothouse, half frozen, for coffee and cookies. “Broom sedge” on the right bank, Mile 585.1, and tall pokeweed, black locust in bloom, bald cypresses, willows, ash just coming out, box elder, persimmon.
The OLE MISS, the SUFFOLK. A huge boil on the right bank, at m. 586, eating into bank and revetment in fearful revocations. Land is level as a floor, laid flown by the river and then eaten away by the river in its endless changes. Now we are out of the summer look of Louisiana, back to where trees are beginning to come into leaf.
We have 48,000 barrels, or 7500 tons of gasoline, figured at 42 gallons per barrel, this gives us
2,016,000 gallons of gasoline in our barges.
A big eddy sucked us in to the bank and almost sent us climbing out on shore, m. 589.9. Traveled along the right bank, then cut across in a crossing toward upper left light, a huge expanse of water pale blue with pale brown underlying the blue, Waves bubbling over an unmarked reef. Willows in golden bloom, the water here suddenly greenish and fairly clear, with a smell almost as the sea.
dinner, roast pork loin, sauerkraut, potatoes, slaw, red beans, cornbread, beets, onions, pumpkin pie,
I had only a brief sunbath after dinner because the wind was so cold — took a nap and up to the pilothouse at 3:30. Mile 615.5 approaching Sunflower Cut –off, 621, Sunflower, 622, Jackson. Cut-off water is fast water. A willow forest, tall and dark and plumy, yellow with bloom, like a bamboo thicket but larger, with tall bare trunks. Racks of willow drift.
supper, french-fried shrimp, chop suey and rice, fried potatoes, spaghetti, olives, onions, pears.
At sundown more thousands of swallows, and the curious wild water of huge eddies, puffs of brown foam from caving banks. A simply marvelously beautiful moonlit starfilled night, after a clear/orange sunset.