The Ribbon - Part Nine - Aboard the Queen City

June 7, 1988

So there I was on that June day in 1988, back on the river and safely aboard the Queen City. I had stowed my gear in what was made up to be the guest bedroom and the pilot bunked with the first mate. I was given a quick tour and introductions to the crew and then sat in on a pilot's conference, a meeting in which the pilot who is leaving updates the pilot coming aboard. David was taking over as Captain and my other brother was the new Engineer.

Sitting in the wheelhouse having a cup of coffee with the pilot, we passed the MV Belcher which appeared to be run aground just below Mound City. The river was extremely low due to the recent drought and every pilot and crew member was working hard not to have their boats run aground as well. While we were touring the Engineer's room in the lowest part of the vessel we had heard the eerie and foreboding sound of our bottom scraping the sand and knew that this was a reality for any of the boats trying to maneuver during this hot summer.

While David stayed to talk with the current pilot, I wandered about the rest of the boat. When I went out on the deck, the deckhands were painting all the old red on the decks to gray. When there were no tows to change and no locks to go through, the crew stayed busy keeping the boat “ship shape”. A clean and safe boat was their constant duty.

Standing on the upper deck, I looked out on the banks which were low with exposed sand and ground. The predictions are that this part of the river will be closed off if we don't get any rain. The Queen City was sleek and long with plenty of room for the crew and for guests. The main deck housed the common area, the dining room, the galley and the Engineer’s cabin. On some boats the cook is on the same level as the galley, depending upon the boat. The next level up, known as the "Texas deck", normally contains the crew's quarters. Some four-story boats will have the captain’s and pilot’s cabins on one deck higher. Of course my favorite part of the boat will always be the wheelhouse or pilothouse, which sits on average 20 to 30 feet above the water's surface.

Looking toward the stern of the M/V Queen City I see that as expected, even the outside of the boat is spotless. The wheelhouse on the Queen City was roomy, neat and tidy with a panoramic, bird’s-eye view. The captain was sitting in his chair, neatly positioned between the steering levers chatting off and on to the first mate. Spending time in the wheelhouse, looking down on the activity of the crew, listening to the radio or watching the radar was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. The river charts were always opened to the section we were passing through and the pilot and I would chat about what we were seeing or what was coming up. We had always had charts and river books around and like any road map we could study the places we were traveling through. The cook climbed the many sets of stair and brought coffee for David and I then joined us as we sat quietly watching the river ahead. Our boat was pushing a load of about 18 empties northbound. The deckhands periodically walk the tow checking the lines and cables carrying their “cheater bars”, a six foot length of pipe used to tighten the tow wires. The cook headed back to the galley to bake and start preparations for the evening meal.




The deckhands keep watch on their barges, day and night.

The land above Moundsville was flat and boring, not at all like northern Kentucky with its rolling hills. The beaches were even and sandy and there were no noticeable cities or people. As we neared the lock, towboats were lined up against the shore like a string of 18 wheelers, all waiting their turn to lock through at Lock #53 and we were pretty far back in line.

In the afternoon Dave and I worked in the wheelhouse and then he walked me out to the head of the tow. The barges are a very dangerous place to walk and because I had been so young when my stepfather had been on towboats, I had never been out to the head of the tow before. The normal tow is 1,000 feet long so the whole boat is almost a quarter of a mile long and is usually described as the length of three football fields placed end to end. Barges have curved ends so they don’t meet up flush together. There is always a large hole between the barges and if you fall into these holes, you would be sucked down under the boat. There are large ropes, called lines, which need to be avoided so you don’t trip. Once you get to the front, it is hard to believe how small the towboat looks! With that much distance between the crew and the pilot you gain respect on how well everyone works together.

The tiny white spot in the middle of this photo is the towboat. It is amazing how far away it looks from the farthest barge. Deckhands walk up and down these barges many times a day checking the ropes and lines and giving the pilot measurements when heading into locks.