The River: Catching up and reporting on sad loss of Cappy Bobby Lischkge, travails of paddlewheelers

By Capt. Don Sanders
Special to NKyTribune

(The riverboat captain is a storyteller, and Captain Don Sanders is sharing the stories of his long association with the river — from discovery to a way of love and life.)

For more than a month I’ve been absent from this column and the computer, in general, except for an occasion perusing within social media looking for whatever’s been happening on the river.

Hopefully, someone has noticed. Often it takes a radical change in one’s daily routine to realize how fragile and precious life really is and not to be taken for granted. Such was, and remains, the case in point when the one closest to me suffered a life-threatening medical episode. I will say no more other than she is recovering and doing much better.

While I was away, Cappy Bobby Clayton Lischkge, an esteemed boatman from along the broad bend of the Middle Ohio River, at Aurora, Indiana, passed from this life at age 94. Photographer Unknown

While I was away, Cappy Bobby Clayton Lischkge, an esteemed boatman from along the broad bend of the Middle Ohio River, at Aurora, Indiana, passed from this life at age 94. Bobby and his son, Captain Rob Lischkge, were always kind, considerate, and helpful to me and my boats for as long as we were acquainted after Cap’n Rob and I met when he was piloting the resurrected Aurora Ferry while US 50 was undergoing major structural changes before the startup of the casino boats that re-energized the economy in the southeastern corner of the Hoosier State during the mid-1990s.

In the summer of 2012, after Rob had “talked me along” by cell phone whenever I needed mechanically-related advice during the 1,300-mile delivery trip adventure of the Rafter CLYDE from Alma, Wisconsin to Aurora, the Lischkge father and son team virtually rebuilt the CLYDE’s busted paddlewheel shaft and bearing connections. Bobby milled the necessary parts and pieces on a 100-year-old lathe in his workshop above their Mack Truck dealership at their landmark “Round Barn” on US 50, west of town. Together, the Lischkge men rebuilt and installed the paddlewheel mechanicals better than they were originally when the sternwheeler was new. After the last arc was struck and the rebuilding of the paddlewheel completed, I asked the duo how much I owed them for their superb workmanship. Without a moment’s hesitation, both answered as one, “Don’t worry about it.”

Bobby milled the necessary parts and pieces on a 100-year-old lathe in his workshop above their Mack Truck dealership at their landmark “Round Barn” on US 50, west of town.

Over a month ago, in my last newly-written column, Hurricane Ida was all the talk of the river as the storm lashed the Louisiana coast with both New Orleans and the Steamer DELTA QUEEN taking a pounding. Captains Doc Hawley and Matt Dow and their dedicated crews rode out Ida, a deadly and destructive Category 4 Hurricane, aboard the Steamer NATCHEZ and the CITY of NEW ORLEANS  lashed “alongside the New Orleans Steamboat Company’s wharf on the open and exposed Mississippi River,” as I stated in the story on the first Sunday of September. A later inventory of these two cherished riverboats noted only minimal damage from an angry lady named Ida.

Further west, near Houma, Louisiana, where the hurricane thundered onshore, little damage was first reported to the venerable Steamer DELTA QUEEN, but a closer look found that the aging queen took more of a thumping from the storm that had been realized soon after the cyclone rolled inland on August the 29th. Owners of the steamboat revealed that the vessel took a “direct hit at her moorings near Houma,” and, “despite being subjected to winds in excess of 150-mph for over an hour, the DELTA QUEEN did not suffer any major structural damage.”

Among the damage, the waterproof membrane on the roof required replacing while the hand railing around the stern on the Sun and Texas Decks also suffered substantial injuries. Although repairs to the damage started as soon as Ida was still raising havoc further to the north, my guess is that it will be a while to finish repairing all that needs doing.

Captains Doc Hawley and Matt Dow and their dedicated crews rode out Ida, a deadly and destructive Category 4 Hurricane, aboard the Steamer NATCHEZ and the CITY of NEW ORLEANS.

Personally, as I proposed in an earlier column, I am hoping an eccentric billionaire of the Jeff Bezos or Elon Musk-type takes an interest in keeping steamboating alive on the Mississippi River– and for a lark, tosses a measly 100-million, or so, the DELTA QUEEN’s way. Not surprisingly, scores of former QUEEN crewmembers, staff, and shoreside employees will likely surge forward to staff, operate, and maintain the boat. If either of these or other billionaires are reading this column, please have “your people” contact the DELTA QUEEN Steamboat Company owners, immediately.. and please feel free to say that I sent you.       

Fans of the Captain Dennis Trone’s JULIA BELLE SWAIN, lately of LaCrosse, Wisconsin on the Upper Mississippi River, have been anxiously awaiting to hear the fate of the partially assembled celebrated steamboat since a failed attempt to restore the JULIA BELLE back to working order began just a few years ago. Or as a local wag on social media commented, “It’s been disappointing to see her tied up on the shore for so many years after refurbs had started and stalled.”

Even my best riverboat sources were scratching their heads when asked where the SWAIN is heading after a photo of the steam-driven paddlewheeler was recently posted of the boat riding high onboard a floating drydock. The Port of New Orleans seems to be the most popular guess. As long as she stays on the Mississippi River System, and someone with deep pockets is willing to bring the SWAIN back to life, I am all for the sale while rooting for the rejuvenation of Captain Trone’s masterpiece steamboat — regardless of where she ends up calling home. Or as my riverboat-loving mother, Anna Margaret, liked to say, “Wouldn’t you?”

Little damage was first reported to the venerable Steamer DELTA QUEEN, but a closer look found that the aging queen took more of a thumping from the storm that had been realized. (Capt. Ted Davisson Photo)

Downstream, near the Falls of the Ohio, around Louisville, Kentucky way, the talented crew of the Steamer BELLE OF LOUISVILLE is running full steam ahead to promote, preserve, and operate the 107-year-old steamboat in spite of the difficulties of a lingering pandemic.

Captains Mark Doty, Pete O’Connell, and Mike Fitzgerald have all invested most of their professional lives in keeping the BELLE paddling. Over 60 years ago, I began my professional river career on the same steamboat when it was known as the Steamer AVALON. Hopefully, with boatmen like Mark, Pete, Mike, and all the many other men and women who are actively engaged in improving the well-being of the BELLE, she will be around for generations to come. In fact, Captain Pete shared a fundraiser for the BELLE on his Facebook page, and I dropped a few bucks to sweeten the pot. See here.

Not surprisingly, scores of former QUEEN crewmembers, staff, and shoreside employees will likely surge forward to staff, operate, and maintain the boat. (Bill Muster Photo)

Fans of the Captain Dennis Trone’s JULIA BELLE SWAIN, lately of LaCrosse, Wisconsin on the Upper Mississippi River, have been anxiously awaiting to hear the fate of the partially assembled celebrated steamboat. (Internet photo)

The talented crew of the Steamer BELLE OF LOUISVILLE is running full steam ahead to promote, preserve, and operate the 107-year-old steamboat in spite of the difficulties of a lingering pandemic. (Bonnie Speeg Photo)

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.