The River: It was a busy week, on and off boats — and ended with meeting a future riverboat master

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

Many rhythms and patterns of the cityscape around the Greater Cincinnati region have changed in the nearly thirty-years since I abandoned my birthplace chasing employment on five different gambling boats on the Mississippi River System. So, whenever I set forth for an event away from my Southeastern Indiana comfort zone, a sizeable block of time is spent, beforehand, on Google Earth, planning the routes to and fro. Such was the case when I recently attended the memorial services for Gene Clabes, the late Associate Editor and founder of the Tribune, and the husband these past 54 years of my editor, Judy Clabes.

Two years ago, Mr. Clabes and I talked for the first and only time at the annual awards luncheon sponsored by the Tribune. Gene was most encouraging about the river column I started cobbling shorty before we meet. Though our meeting was brief, I hoped that he, his missus, and I could gather aboard the Sternwheeler, Rafter CLYDE, somewhere on the river, for a personalized crash course in Clabes journalism while they experienced the quirks of handling a cranky paddlewheeler. Regrettably, none of that happened.

Departing the memorial, my journey home took me to Kentucky Route 18 to the outskirts of Rabbit Hash; close to the General Store where, according to the former Post photographer Joe Munson, also at the tribute, my river pals, “Shantyboat Mike” Fletcher and “Captain Ron” Abdon, were playing tunes in a Bluegrass band. While reflecting on the fleeting moments of the brevity in one’s life, my thoughts turned to my family across the Ohio River. Instead of proceeding to the store, I turned at the ferryboat landing and waited for the LUCKY LADY to take me across the water. The short excursion across the darkened river to the northern shore was far too brief. If only the ferry could carry me deep into the night, I wished.

Speaking of the Rising Sun/Rabbit Hash Ferry, my colleague, and friend, Josh Lakin, was lately named the “Senior Captain” of the operation. For some sixteen years, I held that title at the casino boat, GRAND VICTORIA II, just downriver from the ferry. During the ownership of the gambling enterprise by a division of the Hyatt hotel people in Chicago, I prepared and presented a proposal for a ferry boat between the two states. My boat would have run further up-river near the site of old Lock & Dam 38 and closer to KY 18, but after considering my recommendations, the home office let the matter drop.

Afterward, the City of Rising Sun contemplated continuing the idea, but opposition from the distant shore soon smothered the suggestion. Much to the surprise and delight of many, the waterborne connector between the two communities was re-established over a year ago when the casino christened the LUCKY LADY that serves not only its owners but the opposing federations as well.

The worth of the ferryboat is yet unevaluated in terms of what it contributes to the convenience and in dollars and cents to the owners and residents on both sides of the Ohio River. Hopefully, the conveyance will remain a valued link in the transportation system between those isolated communities on the broad and lonesome shores of the Ohio for years to come. The next best alternative to a ferry is a bridge. But in these difficult times, building a permanent steel structure between Rabbit Hash and Rising Sun is a fantasy that will never happen. Not ever.

On Thursday night, the group led by Thomas More University professors Sherry Stanforth and Richard Hague to promote their book, RIPARIAN, a collection of “poetry, short prose, and photographs inspired by the Ohio River,” met at the venerated Cincinnati Merchantile Library in the 400-block of Walnut Street, downtown.  The Merchantile, a mainstay of the city since its founding by forty-five merchants and clerks in April 1835, was the perfect platform for sharing from the book by the various writers, poets, and camera clickers whose works comprised the bulk of the RIPARIAN.

Always a favorite among the performers was ninety-some-year-old Dorothy “Dottie” Weil, a true daughter of the river who grew up on a shantyboat, the daughter of a Mate on the second excursion steamboat ISLAND QUEEN and the sister of Captain Jim Coomer. Cap’n Jim, a pal-o-mime who, among his many river escapades, built the ADVENTURE GALLEY II, a replica of a 1792 flatboat that I commanded from a cottonfield in Helena, Arkansas to the New Orleans World’s Fair in 1984.

An excerpt from my tale about the boats I never worked on but “would’ a if I could’ a” was a featured selection. At the start, I read tolerably-well, even with a sprinkling of humor and wit, or so I imagined, but the longer I stood behind the dais, the dryer and thicker my tongue felt. As the end of the selection approached, the microphone began obstructing my view of the page while I struggled to keep abreast of the script. Finally, after bungling the last sentence, I offered by way of apology to my squirming audience, “I ran out of steam…” and quickly found my seat.    

The RIPARIAN, however, remains a worthy collection of river-related artistic and intellectual interests and may likely become a literary beacon for the second decade of the 21st Century on the Ohio River. I am delighted to be included. Thanks, Sherry and Richard, for including my story.

Rarely do I meet a person so genuinely interested in the river and boats that, though they may be very young, I realize that with the proper guidance and exposure, they have the change to go as far in the maritime world as they want. Such was the case recently when Captain Josh Larking called and urgently arranged a meeting aboard the Rafter CLYDE. Jokingly, I thought to myself, ‘with his recent promotion to Senior Captain of the LUCKY LADY; Josh is going to tell me he wants to buy my paddlewheeler.’   

At the prearranged hour, I heard voices on the dock. Expecting to see Josh’s sweetie, the lovely Kay Kuehn, whom I first met when she was decking on the ferryboat, instead, a thin, towheaded young boy wearing cowboy boots was looking all around and chattering away.

Inside the CLYDE, the ferryboat captain introduced me to Matthew Lustig, whose father Steve was a deckhand working for Captain Josh. Matthew, I soon discovered, was eleven and too big to be interested in playing with JoJo, Brownie, Sweet Pea, and the rest of the stuffed animal-variety of the “Krewe” of the CLYDE, which usually entertains the young ones when they are on board. Matthew, though, was interested in the boat and needed no other entertainment.

His questions were direct and specific to the vessel. “What are those things hanging on the wall over there?” When told they were brass “row, or oar, locks,” used to hold a set of oars to row the BUSTER skiff, he seemed to be processing that information by the way he indicated he understood. In the pilothouse, Matthew, surely imaging himself piloting the CLYDE as he settled in behind the large wooden steering wheel and posed with Josh and me for pictures.    

Discovering CLYDE’s red, wooden sternwheel, the youngster could not have been more pleased. “Wow, a paddlewheeler just like the one below the ferry!” Yes, I told him. That other paddlewheeler is the GRAND VICTORIA II, a casino boat that was “mine,” too, for 16 years when I was the Senior Captain.

Back in the cabin, the three of us talked around the oak galley table. Josh and I both took the time to carefully clarify the specifics of our “boat talk” to our young cub, who responded with more questions if he needed clarification of our explanations. Soon, Cap’n Josh’s fancy smartphone announced a caller. It was Matthew’s dad saying it was time for his son to come home.

As my guests walked the dock toward the parking lot, I could hear Matthew’s excited voice asking more questings and making comments as the two passed along the rows of expensive “floating plastic palaces” along the way. I also found later, that Matthew’s father, Steve Lustig, is working towards “sitting” for his captain’s license and is encouraging his boy’s maritime interests.

Someday, if Matthew becomes a master of his own vessel, perhaps he will recall a visit aboard a little paddlewheeler sometime, long ago, in the distant past. 

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.