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The River: Seeing the CLYDE from a new perspective never before seen — underway, going away


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

When my phone rang, it was Captain Bill Judd with a reminder, or more like a warning: “Remember, what the Greene Line’s Purser, Bob McCann, always said, ‘Never watch a departing boat go off into the distance.’”

Of course, I remembered Bob McCann turning his back as soon as the DELTA QUEEN got itself turned around and headed downstream from the old Greene Line Steamers’ wharfboat at the foot of Main Street on the Cincinnati Public Landing. I recalled because I stood alongside Bob many times as the QUEEN left the wharfboat downbound for Louisville, St. Louis, or New Orleans. At other times, the steam sternwheeler pushed straight ahead with its sights set on Pittsburgh, some 471 miles upstream against the current of the Ohio River.

When my phone rang, it was Captain Bill Judd with a reminder.

“It’s bad luck to watch a steamboat leave,” the veteran purser warned. To further bolster his dire warning, Bob McCann added, “Captain Chris Greene always ordered the doors on the wharfboat closed as soon as a boat left.” Captain Bill was using the memory of Mr. McCann to help me decide whether, or not, to come to a resolution if I intended to watch the CLYDE depart for Knoxville. As soon as the cell phone conversation concluded, I realized I was facing a dilemma: Would I watch the CLYDE leave, or would I follow an ancient steamboat tradition and absent myself from the departure? I had a decision to make before the following morning.

Captain Tim Roberts, CLYDE’s skipper on the delivery trip to the sternwheeler’s new home on the Little Tennessee River, near Knoxville, announced he would be departing Lighthouse Point Yacht Club outside Aurora, Indiana at 7 a.m., or shortly thereafter.

“That’s terribly early for my retirement-style schedule,” I pondered. “But what if Cap’n Tim has a problem getting the usually-reliable engine started?” Then, too, I wouldn’t seem especially supportive of the CLYDE if I failed to show for the start of the long journey. Before turning in for the night, I set the alarm on the cellular telephone for 5:45 a.m., giving me ample time to make a final decision in the morning.

It was a no-brainer. Just before 7 a.m., my faithful 1995 pickup truck pulled into the parking lot above Bravo Dock at Lighthouse Marina. I wondered if Cap’n Tim and crewman, Rick Welton, were up and about. Things sounded unusually quiet on the dock. But as I descended the steep ramp, the muffled sounds of the four-banger diesel engine and the slap-slapping of the paddlewheel buckets let me know that the CLYDE and crew were up-and-at-’em and raring to get underway

I wondered if Cap’n Tim and crewman, Rick Welton, were up and about.

On the floats at Berth 16, Dr. Julie Johnston, CLYDE’s buyer, stood by as her crew of two began their final preparations for departure. After a brief greeting with Tim and Rick, I joined CLYDE’s new proprietress, and we watched in awe as the sternwheeler shipped into reverse and paddled out of the slip. For the very first time, I saw the CLYDE underway from a perspective I’d never seen before. That is, seeing it underway from off the boat. My first thought was, as I observed from a distance: “That must be the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

Naturally, I hustled down the floats to get a full view of the CLYDE as she glided by while Captain Tim carefully tested the controls, alone, for the first time. Once he straightened her out and began slow-belling for the entrance to Laughery Creek and the Ohio River, I remembered Captain Bill Judd’s admonition and turned my back to my former paddlewheeler and walked toward the pickup parked “on the hill” without looking back. When Julie joined me ashore, I was satisfied that I had not broken the ancient tradition and the CLYDE, her crew, and I were free from the curse of “bad luck” brought upon the lot of us for watching the boat until it disappeared.

Seated behind the wheel of “Black Beauty,” I followed behind Dr. Johnston as she drove for the exit leaving the marina. She turned right onto IN 56 on a route leading toward the expressway, but I twisted the steering wheel hard to the left in the westerly direction CLYDE was heading. If I had not watched the boat leave, who’s to say I couldn’t view her paddling past another location as long as I didn’t see her venture out of sight? Before long, I found myself parked by the river alongside a deserted ferry landing and settled in to wait for the CLYDE to come into view.

My first thought was, as I observed from a distance: “That must be the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.” 

After less than an hour’s wait, while observing the local bird community frolic on the riverbank, a familiar sight popped around the bend above. As the CLYDE approached closer, Captain Tim recognizing the gawker waiting in the distressed, black pickup, blew a whistle salute before coming out from behind the steering wheel to exchange the traditional two-handed river salute. Without watching the CLYDE go from sight, I drove up the steep landing and headed toward Rising Sun, only a couple of more miles to the west.

By the time I arrived close to the river where I could see the CLYDE in contrast next to my last professional command, the 330-foot casino boat, the GRAND VICTORIA II, the shock of seeing my previous two boats side-by-side was almost overwhelming. The CLYDE appeared tiny and dot-like alongside the bigger of the two vessels. While the CLYDE was alive and traveling under her power to a new life, the larger boat lay lifeless and shackled alongside a landing barge; unable to move except if towed as a hulk should the need arise to move the immense bulk. Once more, the CLYDE paddled into the distance without my notice. A twist of the ignition key started the engine in front of me, and I drove down-river to catch another view.

Once I found a decent roadside observation post, I realized it might take the CLYDE another hour to get anywhere close-enough for a photograph. Even then, the paddlewheeler would be too far for a decent picture. By then, I figured I’d seen enough of the departure and headed home to follow the CLYDE on the internet.

Captain Tim recognizing the gawker waiting in the distressed, black pickup, blew a whistle salute before coming out from behind the steering wheel to exchange the traditional two-handed river salute.

CLYDE’s now-former Chief Engineer, Phillip Johnson, supplied the web link to CLYDE’s automatic identification system, or AIS, that allowed the user to follow the path of the paddlewheeler effortlessly. By 1:15 pm, Cap’n Tim had the CLYDE safely in the large lock chamber of Markland Dam. By six o’clock, the boat lay tightly tucked in at a marina in the historic town of Madison, Indiana, at Mile Marker 558, a distance run of 59 miles with one lock the first day. The Rafter CLYDE was off to a good start.

The second day, 08 July 2020, CLYDE turned up her bustle paddling through the Louisville harbor while showing off for the venerable steamer, the BELLE of LOUISVILLE. CLYDE’s last foray to the Falls City happened in 2014 during the 100th Anniversary Celebration for the BELLE. Chief Engineer Dan Lewis caught the CLYDE on camera as she slipped past heading towards the Louisville & Portland Canal for the big chamber at McAlpine Lock and Dam. The next I heard about the CLYDE was a text from Captain Tim:

“Hey, Don, just pushed up on a bank inside Salt River, Mile 630. Had a big blow coming out of McAlpine about 30 mph with a loaded tow coming in. Had to put the coals to her, but no problem.”

How ironic. Exactly eight years ago to the day, as I was shoving the CLYDE out of McAlpine Lock on the delivery trip from Alma, Wisconsin, a “big blow with 30 mph winds” slammed into us. In the canal above, a loaded “red flag” petroleum tow crowded the channel for every foot of room. I, too, “had to pour the coals to her,” for every ounce of power that mighty 35-hp diesel possessed. And like Captain Tim reported, I could also say once the incident was over, “No problem.”

Chief Engineer Dan Lewis caught the CLYDE on camera as she slipped past heading towards the Louisville & Portland Canal.

Although, later, when I reported the incident to CLYDE’s builder, Ed Newcomb, he surprisingly replied, “The CLYDE wasn’t built for that sort of weather,” and put the credit for the vessel’s survival on me acting as the pilot. After an even stronger storm slammed the CLYDE that first year, I know that the paddlewheeler was better-built than what Ed gave himself credit for creating. I know, now, that it takes both a stout vessel and a knowledgeable boat-handler to get through those harrowing situations. In a way, it’s commendable that Cap’n Tim experienced such an affair early-on in the trip. He is far better prepared, now, for a similar situation should it reoccur further on.

That night, Wednesday, 08 July 2020, the Captain tied off the CLYDE inside the mouth of Salt River, MM 630, on the Ohio River. Despite one lock and a storm, the CLYDE and crew put another 72 miles behind the paddlewheel.

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.

Exactly eight years ago to the day, as I was shoving the CLYDE out of McAlpine Lock on the delivery trip from Alma, Wisconsin, a “big blow with 30 mph winds” slammed into us.

That night, Wednesday, 08 July 2020, the Captain tied off the CLYDE inside the mouth of Salt River, MM 630, on the Ohio River.


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7 Comments

  1. Connie Bays says:

    Bittersweet, as you bid farewell to one peach of a vessel. Just as a parent watches from a distance after their children spread their wings to fly, I’m sure you will also watch from the distance; so it’s more like see you later, than goodbye.

  2. Jo Ann W Schoen says:

    Your words made me feel as though I was right there with you. The pictures accompanying the article were great!

  3. Heidi English says:

    Such a wonderful story about the unbuckling of Master Stmr Captain Don and his beloved Rafter Clyde II.
    I am glad you listened to the ol river superstitions. They definitely count. I am sure there’re many more you could share in an upcoming article written in the Nkytrib.

  4. Bob Sanders says:

    “Parting is such sweet sorrow. . . “

  5. Ronald L Sutton says:

    “Parting is such sweet sorrow. . . “ You stole my line, Capt. Don. So far so good.

  6. Cornelia Reade-Hale says:

    I’m glad you went & also allowed us to share in Rafter Clyde II departure. I’m glad you honored the superstition. My dad told it as “don’t watch clear out of sight or you’ll never ride her again.” You paid honor to her delivering crew by going & gave yourself some closue. God speed to you.Rafter Clyde II & her new crew.

  7. Capt. Don says:

    Thanks, friends for your kind compliments. The CLYDE is definitely in good hands as next’s week’s column will assure you.

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