4
IN THERE EARLY IN THF AFTERNOON BECAUSE THERE IS NO PLACE ELSE TO GO. SHORTLY
AFTERWARD THE ONLY OTHER PLEASURE BOAT ON THE MISSISSIPPI PULLED IN, A 34’
SEA RAY WITH BUD FOSTER AND HIS DAUGHTER VALERIE ABOARD. THEY WERE HEADING FOR
NAPLES, FLORIDA SO WE STRUCK UP AN IMMEDIATE FRIENDSHIP, ONE THAT WOULD PROVE
TO BE EXTREMELY FORTUNATE FOR US.
WE LEFT TOGETHER THE NEXT DAY, OUR BOATS BEING COMPARABLE IN RANGE AND SPEED.
OF COURSE, SPEED MEANT NOTHING WITH THE RIVER CONDITIONS. GOING SO SLOW WE ONLY
MADE IT TO MILE 115 WHERE WE WERE ABLE TO GO UP THE KASKASKIA RIVER AND TIE TO
THE WALL OF A LOCK FOR THE NIGHT WELL OUT OF THE CURRENT AND BARGE TRAFFIC
OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING WE SET OUT TO TRY AND MAKE THE OHIO RIVER, A DISTANCE
OF 119 MILES. A GAS PUMP ON A BARGE FILLED OUR TANKS NEAR CAPE GIRARDEAU, Mo.,
BUT THE OHIO WAS BEYOND OUR REACH AND WE HAD TO SPEND ANOTHER NIGHT ON THE MISS.
WE CHOSE A LITTLE CUT BEHIND AN ISLAND THAT GOT US OUT OF THE BARGE TRAFFIC BUT
NOT THE CURRENT. WE DROPPED OUR ANCHORS, BUD ANCHORING ABOUT 100 YARDS AWAY
FROM US. WE HAD DINNER AND PREPARED FOR BED. DURING THE EVENING THE WIND STARTED
TO HOWL OUT OF THE NORTH AND BLEW THE TREES AND LOGS INTO OUR CUT. PRETTY SOON
THE BOATS WERE BEING RAMMED BY LOGS GOING TEN MILES AN HOUR. WE WORRIED ABOUT
OUR HULL TAKING SUCH A BEATING, BUT THE WORST PART WAS THE TREES THAT WOULD CATCH
IN OUR ANCHOR LINE AND LAY BROADSIDE TO THE BOW PICKING UP DEBRIS AND PUTTING
A TERRIBLE STRAIN ON THE LINE AND AT TIMES PULLING THE BOW DOWN DEEP IN THE WATER.
EFFORTS TO DISLODGE THESE LOGS AND THE ROAR OF THE WATER WASHING OVER THEM ALONG
WITH THE POUNDING AGAINST THE HULL MEANT NO SLEEP FOR EITHER OF US. WE SAT UP
IN LIFE-JACKETS TAKING TURNS ON THE BOW WITH BOAT HOOKS FIGHTING THE TREES. A
SHORT DISTANCE BEHIND US THE BARGES CHURNED UP AND DOWN THE RIVER ALL NIGHT
PLAYING THEIR CONSTANTLY MOVING SEARCHLIGHTS ON THE SHORE AND OUR BOATS. WE KNEW
IF WE BROKE LOOSE WE WOULD BE SWEPT INTO THEIR PATH.
BUD AND HIS DAUGHTER VAL WERE FIGHTING THE SAME BATTLE ALL NIGHT WITH THE ONLY
REASSURING SIGN BEING A GLANCE AT EACH OTHER'S ANCHOR LIGHTS TO KNOW WE
WERE BOTH STILL THERE.
ABOUT 4 A.M. VERONICA WENT TO BED EXHAUSTED AND I SAT UP IN THE COCKPIT
TO CONTINUE THE VIGIL. THEN I SLIPPED DOWN ON THE COMFORTABLE BENCH SEAT AND
ALSO FELL ASLEEP. I AWOKE LATER TO A STRANGE SILENCE. NO TREES HITTING THE
HULL, NO ROARING CURRENT. I LOOKED OVER FOR BUD’S ANCHOR LIGHT AND IT WAS GONE.
I LOOKED FOR THE END OF THE ISLAND I HAD USED AS A MARKER AND IT WASN’T THERE.
I YELLED TO VERONICA THAT BUD WAS GONE AND THEN RUSHED TO THE BOW TO CHECK OUR
ANCHOR. ALL I GOT WAS A LENGTH OF LINE THAT HAD BEEN SAWED THROUGH BY OUR
CONSTANT SWINGING IN THE WHIRPOOLS. WE WERE ADRIFT, FLOATING DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI
RIVER IN THE PITCH DARK. THIS WAS ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS OF TERROR THAT EVERYONE WHO
DOES MUCH BOATING FEELS ON OCCASION. WE DIDN'T KNOW HOW LONG WE HAD DRIFTED OR WHERE
WE WERE, ONLY THAT WE WERE GOING ALONG WITH THE REST OF THE DEBRIS AND TWIRLING IN THE WHIRPOOLS.