A nonprofit publication of the Kentucky Center for Public Service Journalism

The River: After too much procrastination, the Rafter CLYDE finally gets her fancy White Collars


The riverboat captain is a storyteller, and Captain Don Sanders will be sharing 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

Finally, after nearly eight years of vacillation, the Rafter CLYDE, my sternwheel replication of a historic 1870s Upper Mississippi River steamboat that towed great rafts of first-growth logs from the piney forests of Wisconsin to sawmills as far south as St. Louis, received her decorative White Collars encircling her upper smokestacks.

With the help of Alexander Watson, boat neighbor, author, and owner of the BETTY JANE, a vintage Chris-Craft cruiser, CLYDE’s White Collars found themselves attached in short order.

Finally, after nearly eight years of vacillation, the Rafter CLYDE received her decorative White Collars encircling her upper smokestacks.

The idea of adding the traditional contrasting encirclements to the CLYDE was an idea I attempted not long after the paddlewheel completed the 1,300-mile voyage from Alma, Wisconsin to Aurora, Indiana in 2012. For some excuse or another, the project never materialized until this past Wednesday, November 6, possibly the last mild day for the rest of this year.

So what are these “White Collars?” Where did they originate, and for what purpose?

For starters, the striking difference of two extreme opposite colorations of all reflective white on an all light-absorbing black causes a viewer’s eye to focus upon a section of a boat that might otherwise blend into the background. A collar may decorate or “fancy up” a steamboat to make one look different than its neighbors, especially at a time when many boats were crowding the rivers.

Perhaps they were the “logos” of their day identifying vessels of the same fleet so that they might be called a “White Collar Line,” as was the case of Commodore Fredrick Laidley’s Cincinnati-based steamers, including the famous CITY of CINCINNATI and the CITY of LOUISVILLE; both of which I wrote about in other columns.  

Other river entrepreneurs also had steamboat fleets boasting the distinctive white bands around their chimneys. On the Upper Mississippi River in 1860, William F. Davidson, better known among steamboatmen as “Commodore Bill,” saw a virtual monopoly of steamboat traffic above Dubuque with his version of the White Collar Line. Other steamer smokestacks boasted of the pallid bands merely because they looked pretty.

With the help of Alexander Watson, boat neighbor, author, and owner of the MARY JANE, a vintage Chris-Craft cruiser, CLYDE’s White Collars found themselves attached in short order.  


Commodore Fredrick Laidley built an imposing two-story brick home on East Second Street in Covington, directly across the Ohio River from the Cincinnati Public Landing. There, Laidley watched the comings and goings of his White Collar Line steamboats from a gazebo atop his mansion. According to Captain Albert S. Kelley, who learned his early piloting skills aboard the CITY of LOUISVILLE, a late-arriving packetboat often left with a different captain than the one who failed to land on time according to Laidley’s heavy gold watch.   

By the time I became aware of the story of the Commodore, his palatial digs, once the scene of many gay and robust parties, was a rundown, spooky place fit only for Halloween celebrations. Inside, I heard from my father, Jess Sanders, Jr., a Covington police officer who was a frequent visitor to the old home whenever he responded to a trouble call from either one of two sisters or their brother who lived among the crumbling walls.

A collar may decorate or “fancy up” a steamboat to make one look different than its neighbors, especially at a time when many boats were crowding the rivers.

After the death of the father, the Commodore, the children divided the mansion into two separate apartments with the sisters occupying one side and their male sibling, the other, after a rift developed between Laidley’s only heirs. One evening according to my dad, he responded to a complaint from the sisters who insisted that their brother was cooking up some fetid, malodorous “witch’s brew” with the sole intent of aggravating the women living on the opposite side of the manse. 

“The stench was overpowering,” Dad recalled. When the Laidley brother failed to respond to their pounding and shouts to open the door, Dad and his partner broke it down only to find a decaying, putrid corpse. “The man must ‘a been dead at least a week,” my father added.

Commodore Fredrick Laidley built an imposing two-story brick home on East Second Street in Covington, Kentucky, directly across the Ohio River from the Cincinnati Public Landing.

After the exciting and eventful “Save the DELTA QUEEN Year” of 1970 when the venerable steamboat was exempted at the last minute from the so-called “Safety at Sea” law by a rider to a Congressional Bill promising payments of wages to a government employee, I returned to find the QUEEN at Avondale Shipyard near New Orleans.

With the promise of five years before the DELTA QUEEN had to seek another exemption, Overseas National Airways, the owners of the historic steamboat put a million dollars worth of improvements, or the equivalent of $6.3 million, today, into their property. 

Captain Ernest E. Wagner, the Master of the  DELTA QUEEN, called me down to the shipyard as his First Mate. Cal Benefiel continued his long career with the Greene Line Steamers as the QUEEN’s Chief Engineer, while Kenny P. Howe, Jr., about my same age, was Chief Cal’s  Assistant. Our schedule called for six workdays with Sundays off while we lived aboard the boat with “cots and three hots” provided as additional benefits. When Sundays came, Kenny and I usually hung around the boat in the deserted shipyard and found a fun project we wanted to do outside of the established work schedule needed to get the DELTA QUEEN out of layup and back onto the river in the business of carrying overnight passengers. 

Captain Ernest E. Wagner, the Master of the  DELTA QUEEN, called me down to the shipyard as his First Mate. Cal Benefiel continued his long career with the Greene Line Steamers as the QUEEN’s Chief Engineer.

On one pleasant Sunday afternoon, Captain Wagner and William “Bill” Muster, the President of the Greene Line piled into the company Volkswagen and headed to the two-hundred block of Bourbon Street where Felix’s Oyster Bar held promises of endless trays of freshly-shucked raw oysters and pitchers of frost Jax Beer that Captain Wagner unabashedly devoured. Kenny stayed behind to help me with an idea I thought of doing when the bosses were off the boat that I hoped to have completed by the time they arrived back from the French Quarter.  

“What I’d like to do,” I told Ken, “is to paint a White Collar around the upper half of the QUEEN’s smokestack. Something in honor of Commodore Fred Laidley from my hometown.” 

Kenny was nearly as eager as I was to get started. So with paint, brushes, rollers, and pans in tow, we required help getting everything onto the roof behind the pilothouse, setting up ladders to climb onto the stack bonnet, layout the circular collar, and applying the paint onto the metal before the Captain, and Mr. Muster returned. 

Bill Muster carefully considered what Kenny Howe and I started, he sent artists from the Avondale sign shop to the stack where they converted our White Collar into a Royal Crown symbolizing the “Regal Empress of the River,” the Steamer DELTA QUEEN.


Just as the White Collar nearly encircled the stack, the VW pulled alongside the dock below were Ken and I almost had the painting completed. I’m sure the duo spied the Collar as soon as the DELTA QUEEN came in view through the windscreen on the Bug, as both seemed pleasantly excited about what we were doing. Soon Cap and Bill were atop the roof beneath the smokestack, and it was comforting to hear that our artwork was received graciously by the two most powerful men aboard the steamboat.   

By the next day, however, after Bill Muster carefully considered what Kenny Howe and I started, he sent artists from the Avondale sign shop to the stack where they converted our White Collar into a Royal Crown symbolizing the “Regal Empress of the River,” the Steamer DELTA QUEEN.    

That’s the true story of how the DELTA QUEEN gained her luxurious White Crown. But maintaining such a jewel set against a blazing chimney was not for the slothful, torpid, nor the indolent. After a year of continually cleaning and repainting the crown on the hot steel background, the Avondale metal shop fabricated a steel crown and fastened it to the stack so that space was between the back of the White Crown and the hot metal stack. Still, considerable attention was needed from the deck department to maintain the regal appearance of the Crown. After I left the QUEEN, someone less industrious changed the color of the Royal White Crown to what a wag dubbed, a “lazy red.” 

Over a year ago, the DELTA QUEEN again gained an exemption from the same “safety at sea” law. When she returns to her overnight passenger trade, may her Royal Crown be gleaming in full reflective splendor instead of dulled by a lifeless, bloody crimson. I have volunteered to buy the first gallon of the best heat-resistant paint, apply the first coats, and train the crew in the proper maintenance of the paint if the company changes the color of the Crown from bloody red to dazzling Regal White – as it should be. 

 When she returns to her overnight passenger trade, may her Royal Crown be gleaming in full reflective splendor.

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.


Related Posts

8 Comments

  1. Joy Scudder says:

    Thanks, Capt. Don, for another terrific story.

  2. Angie Way says:

    I’m sure the rafter Clyde looks dazzling with her new white collars. It would have been a great improvement to the appearance of the DQ from when we saw her, back in the day.

  3. Cornelia Reade-Hale says:

    Another awesome story by Capt Don is told. As is his forte,it’s full of history both local and river. Thanks for sharing.

  4. Jo Ann W Schoen says:

    Thanks for another great story. I love the history of the DELTA QUEEN.

  5. Ronald Sutton says:

    As usual, Capt. Don Spins a good Yarn. Were the Clyde not for sale, I think I would paint a RED S on the bands. Not enough room for something as distinctive as the old Wyandotte Indian, the stack insignia on their Lake Boats.

  6. Jessica C Yusuf says:

    How interesting! Thank you for sharing this fascinating insight into a Queen of the river’s crown!

  7. Jim Baker says:

    Congrats Capt. Don and Clyde to the “white collar” crowning of her stacks. Hope spots were installed to light them up at night as she adds so much history and love to our river.
    I hope some day, all of your many fascinating stories, are published. They truly need to be. Currently reading “River Queens” by Alexander Watson. Pictured and mentioned in your article painting the collars on Clyde. Great read!!! His Chris-Craft is the Betty Jane, rather than Mary Jane. But guessing Mary Jane was on board from time to time.
    Thanks again, Capt. Don. Keep your river stories flowing….

  8. Thanks, everyone for the friendly comments. And my apology to Alexander and Dale for calling their lovely boat the MJ instead of the BETTY JANE. In fact, I’m about to dig into my copy of “River Queens” as soon as I turn off the computer.

Leave a Comment