The River: Be sweet and pray for those risking their lives everyday to keep us safe; riverlife moves slowly

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

Instead of starting a second month of talking about the COVID-19 pandemic, I figured there had to be something else to consider. But what? Yes, I made another foray to the grocery store, but instead of attacking the little IGA store down the street from my house, I made a post-dawn attack on Kroger’s.

Dressed for the assault, I wore a leftover N95 mask and thick rubber gloves recycled from painting the bottom of CLYDE’s hull three years ago.

Dressed for the assault, I wore a leftover N95 mask and thick rubber gloves recycled from painting the bottom of CLYDE’s hull three years ago. Concealed deep inside the left-leg pocket of my cargo britches, a spray bottle of 70% Isopropyl Alcohol was my secret weapon against the invisible enemy.

Bravely, I entered the store after thoroughly wiping down a push-buggy with disinfectant rags and a thorough shower from my sprayer. Feeling a bit self-conscious, I hid behind my mask and shoved on. Though once inside at that early morning hour, I found a small number of shoppers and an adequate staff of employees going about their particular missions without minding my presence.

The supermarket seemed reasonably stocked without an air of panic-buying as the large chain was during my last visit. I even found my share of a half-empty shelf of multi-roll paper towels, for which I was grateful. I never noticed if toilet paper was on the shelves. Still, a few rolls remain stashed around the house. Once home again, each item was carefully wiped with bleach water, and the plastic bags discarded before anything went inside the kitchen pantry. I wish I’d shot a video and posted it on YouTube as a training film. Whether I was thorough or not, only time will tell, but I know I performed more meticulously than did the doctor who made the clip where I got the idea. Silly, you say? Maybe – maybe, not. But my conscience is clear that I did my best to protect those dearest to me.

The Steamer MAMIE S. BARRETT sitting idly in a field not far from the river below Natchez.

With the passenger and pleasure boat sectors of the river shut down for the virus, although the towboat industry seems to be plugging away, as usual, most of my communication this last week with my boating buddies has been through the miracle of social media. Several unusual subjects arose on Facebook; among them:

One query asked how to rid an old steamboat hull, sitting idly in a field not far from the river below Natchez, of slithering snakes of different temperments in an area known for their abundance. Oddly, I presented this same question to my “pard,” and fellow captain of the GRAND VICTORIA II, Captain David L. Franklin, some years ago. Then, another friend seriously considered the rescue of that particular boat, the MAMIE S. BARRETT, from being a steamboat-styled ophidiarium on the shores of the Lower Mississippi River.

“Hogs,” Captain Dave advised. “Put several hogs into that hull, and in no time, they’ll root-out those snakes, and kill and eat them. Hogs, with their thick skin and layers of fat, are resilient to snakebite.”

Captain David L. Franklin is a man with the answers.

After boating with Cap’n Dave for more than 16 years aboard a couple of gambling boats, I learned to accept the veteran riverman and scientific farmer at his word. That’s the gospel truth. If a steamboat hull needed de-snaking, hogs are the way to go.

Besides being one of the most talented rivermen I’ve ever known, Dave Franklin is an accomplished “bean farmer.” On his small acreage above Cairo, he raises ample harvests of soybeans, milo, and, occasionally, wheat. Before planting the seeds of a new year, Cap’n Dave has his county extension agent analyze the soil across the entirety of his family farm. He adjusts the necessary nutrients as recommended by the results of the tests. Very little escapes the oversight of his scrutiny, so whether it be on land or the water, Captain Franklin is a man with the answers.

The Asian Carp invasion seemed to be another topic of interest to some.

Captain Jim Taylor, a retired boatman with ties to the Crescent City, posted a photo of a fish-processing ship, the RIVERINE ENTERPRISE.

Captain Jim Taylor, a retired boatman with ties to the Crescent City, posted a photo of a fish-processing ship, the RIVERINE ENTERPRISE, being towed from New Orleans to Hickman, Kentucky. Asian Carp, considered a delicacy in China, are “fast-growing and prolific feeders that out-compete native fish and leave a trail of environmental destruction in their wake,” according to experts working on eradicating the pests.

Captain Taylor’s posts aroused my attention as I have long been interested in the prospects of using the Asian Carp as an abundant source of fish for food. As a particular website touting them reveals, “Carp have an abundance of healthy Omega-3 fatty acids, and because they are vegetarians, they have lower levels of toxins, like mercury, that accumulate in species that eat higher on the food chain.” Although the carp eat plankton, grasses, and not other fish, thereby having less mercury in their flesh, fish eaters in this country have yet to accept carp as a source of fish flesh. And quite honestly, I don’t think they ever will unless someone figures out how to disguise carp as something other than what they are. “Faux crab,” or the like, for example.

“My portion of the job,” commented Cap’n Jim, “was to get the RIVERINE ENTERPRISE from the Gulf of Mexico to Buck Kreih’s dock in New Orleans.

“My portion of the job,” commented Cap’n Jim, “was to get the RIVERINE ENTERPRISE from the Gulf of Mexico to Buck Kreih’s dock in New Orleans. Another medium-size towboat butted-up an empty barge to the stern of the factory ship and brought it the rest of the way upriver.”

Presently, the outcome of the fish processing ship adventure in Hickman, in the extreme western corner of the Commonwealth, is yet to be known, either to Captain Taylor or to me. I’ll let everyone know as soon as he or I find any relevant information.

Another trait that distinguishes the Asian Carp from other fishes living in the river is their tendency to leap great heights out of the water at the sounds and vibrations of passing vessels. These fish grow to many pounds in weight. People have been killed by them, striking an occupant in an open, speeding boat. When I brought the CLYDE down the Mississippi from Alma, the thumping paddlewheel did not disturb them, so they failed to leap out of the water. But any passing screw-wheeler made the air become alive with flying fish. In some weird sort of way, I was disappointed not to watch a procession of leaping carp heralding our path along the Father of Waters.

Another trait that distinguishes the Asian Carp from other fishes living in the river is their tendency to leap great heights out of the water at the sounds and vibrations of passing vessels.

Honestly, I haven’t been to check on the CLYDE in about a week with Indiana’s Governor Eric Holcomb’s orders to stay housebound. Still, I know the old gal is resting well and utterly oblivious of my absence. The one good thing about having to remain confined is, I don’t need to feel guilty for loafing around the house.

Please stay socially-separated, keep washing your hands, be sweet, and pray for those risking their lives every day on the frontlines of this nightmare of a viral pandemic.

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.