I’m the Captain Now

The sun glints off the water, and a warm breeze blows through the cabin as we sail along the mighty Mississippi. Bluffs as tall as 400 feet rise above the distant banks on either side. Two bald eagles perch in the nearest tree. A flock of pelicans, gathered along the edge of a grassy sand flat, stare at me as I pass. Life on the river is like a dream. But then, two wake-the-dead horn blasts pull me from my reverie. Ahead is a large tugboat coming around the bend pushing 16 massive barges right in my direction, and I am reminded this is real. I calmly turn the chrome wheel in my hands to steer my 60-foot houseboat to the right and allow the barges to pass. Twenty-four hours previously, I had never driven so much as a fishing boat, and might have left out “calmly.” But now, I am the confident riverboat captain.  And the bartender, deckhand, cook, navigator, janitor, and guest. My wife Tip and I, along with two other couples, all take our turns. We booked this houseboat from S&S Boats in Lansing, Iowa, for the weekend. Despite none of us having boat experience, we are sailing on our own, and will spend our time cruising up and down the Mississippi where it flows through the unglaciated Driftless Area between Iowa and Wisconsin.  Taking the Wheel The houseboat comes with a basic kitchen, fridge, dining and sitting area, and sleeping quarters for four couples. The upper deck has partial shade, deck chairs, an unstocked bar, and even a waterslide off the back. Boat control can be switched to a second helm up here as well.  Even though the company and boat were insured, I thought it was crazy that anyone would let a greenhorn like me navigate something so big on a river so powerful. On arrival at the dock, we all took part in a one-hour training session and then a bit of guided sailing with our instructor. We learned to steer, dock, and control the independent twin engines, as well as how to manage the electrical power and generator. We went over safety and emergency information, and how to use the radio to communicate. If we really got stuck, we could always call in the cavalry and they’d send someone on a fast boat. During our practice run, we ran the boat aground on a sand bar — on purpose: To picnic or stay overnight, we can plant two fluke anchors in the sand to keep us in place.  Obviously, the biggest rule is don’t run into anything. This is fairly simple as…. By Kevin Revolinski
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