Seafarer: A Helmsman's Magical Adventure

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Seafarer: A Helmsman’s Magical Adventure

CHAPTER 1

1818

A steam whistle sounded as the Delta Queen chugged expertly out of Rock Port Harbor into the brisk, cold currents of the upper Mississippi River. June 15th was a bright, sunny morning. The well-traveled steamer proudly embarked right on time for the twelfth time that year on a voyage scheduled to arrive in St. Louis, Missouri later that day.

River Pilot William Seafarer, commander of the Delta Queen, was not tempted to over-stoke the ship’s boilers, since earlier that year he had already put the company’s speed record in his pocket, a lean five and one-half hours. No other pilot had even come close.

Moving along, he sounded another loud drone of the whistle, slowly blending and fading into the brilliant, cloudless sky. For years the same majestic river craft had carried cargo and passengers south, bound for New Orleans. Today, she was near to capacity with Sunday passengers, mostly the well-to-do folks from eastern Illinois' quiet, peace-loving hamlets, traveling for the first time to a Federalist Party convention in St. Louis.

Smiling and laughing, the many eager well-dressed and polished land-owners strolled on the deck to take advantage of a riverboat ride to the Missouri capital and government seat. Many riders were experiencing the fulfillment of a Sunday’s dream come true: traveling in a lavishly styled River Boat reserved for the distinguished members of society, its royalty.

The Queen’s highly-respected captain was the product of a long line of ocean-going adventurers who had left home to go to sea. Like these sailors before him, Seafarer wanted to cut a trail in life’s grand adventure for himself, so exciting that the tales told about him would become legend all over the world, and he would be downright proud to affirm the truth of each and all of his exploits.

At the ambitious age of twenty-three, Captain Seafarer remained unmarried and uncommitted, even though he enjoyed the young ladies’ attention when they fawned over his long auburn hair and ocean blue eyes. The youngest certified pilot on the entire Mississippi River, he could usually be found standing confidently at the helm behind the great wheel, demonstrating the traits of a rough-and-ready riverfront veteran.

But once they embarked right on time that morning of June 15, 1818, and joined the river’s main current, several crew members could sense the ship lacked its usual mechanical refinement and the power necessary for even a routine Sunday trip.

Look out down there! Can’t you hear my signal, fellow pilgrim? Seafarer shouted from the bridge to a vessel down below. You ought to practice more care, young man!

This was the second time that morning that the swiftly-moving Queen narrowly missed colliding with one of the large, slow-moving keeled craft traveling fully loaded southbound. Filthy and utterly vile epithets sailed between the enraged crewmen of both vessels.

Wouldn’t this be the very day, Seafarer said, that we have Ben. Just my luck here! Wiping his brow, the captain turned the wheel over to Baggy Sam Brown, second in command, who was still chuckling over the near-miss encounters. They looked back at the trainee Mr. Oglethorpe had sent from the Company to observe and ride along as far as Hooker City.

Are you all right, Captain? Baggy pointed to the glistening sweat droplets running down the margins of his commander’s beard. A near-miss like that? Well it’s not like you, sir."

I’m all right, Sam. Seafarer nodded, and the big pilot walked the four steps to the back wall of the bridge where he lifted up the blow hose. First, sounding the mouth whistle to catch the attention of John Reilly, the Queen’s first-rate steam engineer down in the boiler room, Seafarer waited for a reply.

Aye, sir, Reilly’s voice acknowledged.

Drop the speed a bit. I sense something’s not right with the engine, John.

I agree, and I’ll recheck it and let you know.

Seafarer returned, I will be sending Baggy down to take a look with you. Over, out. He replaced the blow hose on the wall hook.

Are you going to take the wheel, chief? Baggy asked.

Yes, I will have to, Baggy. Go on down there and check to see what this is all about. I’ll keep the trainee here on the bridge.

Seafarer refused to believe that he was becoming so preoccupied with other matters it was allowing him to lose his focus on commanding the steamer.

One hour earlier, the helm had received word from the ticket officer that the Queen would be taking on three more passengers, all boarding to go as far as Hannibal, some fifty miles down river. The ship’s capacity was full and no more passengers could be allowed, except by permission of the captain. Seafarer had almost replied a stern No! But then he found out that one of these new passengers was Evangeline, his nine-year-old little sister, accompanied by his mother and a Dr. Sutton, with whom he had no acquaintance. He immediately gave his permission for them to board. He knew something must be amiss, but what?

The moment Dr. Sutton had seen Evangeline’s pale face, her vacant eyes, he knew a steamer trip to Hannibal Hospital was her only hope. He rushed Seafarer’s mother and sister to the wharf just as the Delta Queen was taking on the last few passengers.

Hey! Look’ye there, it’s the professor coming aboard, someone shouted from the wharf.

The popular country doctor was gaily greeted by many of the unassuming passengers who recognized this eminent man as he stepped down from his coach. But as soon as they saw Evangeline on the stretcher, the passengers stepped aside and made room for them to board as quickly as possible. This child must be transported to a major hospital immediately, Dr. Sutton sternly announced without pausing for polite introductions. Even as he spoke, the child twisted, shook and rocked in and out of a series of wild convulsions. Her fever is so severe, it is beyond measurement.

Please help us, son, his mother pleaded. We have nowhere else to turn. Seafarer almost did not hear her, he was already giving orders that the three of them should be taken to his quarters for the duration of the trip.

Seafarer’s horror-stricken mother, once safely in the cabin with Evangeline under Dr. Sutton’s care, explained how her condition had become so extreme. When she had first noticed the little girl’s health failing, Mother had hoped and prayed her daughter would improve on her own. Evangeline was a strong girl. But apparently this malignant fever was master, quickly making way for destructive rashes, coughing spells and alarming mouth hemorrhages. Finally, she showed virtually all the same signs as Lil’ June Grace, their next door neighbor’s child, who had developed a remarkably similar febrile affliction, and had eventually recovered, but only after she was taken to the Children’s Infirmary for treatment.

Despite her mother’s hope that Evangeline wouldn’t require hospitalization, the condition had reached status extremis, as the doctor explained to them. She was critically ill. Her neck stiffened, and blotchy black patches of blood appeared on her little cheeks and palms. When she became lethargic and uttered nonsensical phrases, her mother knew it was time to call the prominent Dr. Grandolf Sutton to seek his always-learned opinion.

Seafarer was amazed that his little sister’s health had deteriorated to the point of utter desperation. Only a mere month had passed since he and his sister had traveled with their mother and Aunt Polly to New Orleans aboard the Delta Queen, happily enjoying all the sights. Now, as he looked at his beloved sister on the stretcher, she appeared near death’s door. It was apparent to him that little Evangeline was going to be in an uphill battle just to survive. His heart broke as he saw his mother silently weeping as she bathed Evangeline’s forehead with a cool, wet cloth.

Feeling strangely helpless, the riverboat captain anxiously listened to the doctor’s interpretation of his sister’s grim symptoms and appearance.

Dr. Sutton summarized the situation. She’s going downhill fast, lad. She needs to be treated by an expert.

An expert?

Yes, a doctor from out of town.

"What can I do, Doctor? There must be something..."

Dr. Sutton smiled at Seafarer for the first time. Hannibal is one of your scheduled stops, Captain?

Yes, it is, sir.

There exists the finest institution north of New Orleans, son. The Children’s Infirmary of Hannibal. It may be just what she needs most during these critical hours.

If you think it’s her best hope, doctor, it’s fifty miles down-river to Hannibal, a trip she might not survive!

There are few options, the doctor reminded him. I suggest we try that hospital as soon as possible. Seafarer took a step back and silently bowed his head for a moment. I’ll get her there as soon as possible and proceed as you advise, Doctor.

That’s the spirit, young man!

As both men knew only too well, his mother had already lost two children to epidemic fever, and another loss might be more than she could take. Dr. Sutton turned his attention to the selected contents of his black bag, and Seafarer left him sorting through materials and instruments likely to be needed on his little patient.

Back at the helm, hands firmly on the wheel, Seafarer was resolved more than ever to get to Hannibal. Porter, I want to be notified of any major change in my sister’s condition, Seafarer told Tommy, the cabin boy.

Aye, Captain, sir. The freckled-faced lad snapped to attention and saluted.

Ten minutes later, Tommy entered the helm house bringing word. Captain, the mother of the sick child requests you come quickly. She’s certain her child’s condition is getting much worse!

Return to the cabin, Porter, and tell her I’ll be there in a moment, once Sam Brown returns. That should not be long. I can’t leave my command unattended. The porter swiftly left.

Yes, Evangeline, I will be there as soon as I can. Seafarer muttered a prayer addressed to his ailing sister’s spirit.

Seafarer focused on the gauges before him. Regrettably, the situation in the engine room was also becoming worse. As he looked at the abnormal pressure dials, he swiped away beads of sweat drenching his forehead. All eight pressure gauges pushed their stressed needles into the red Maximum Zone. Seafarer had been taught to avoid this very condition at all costs.

Outside, extending from the stern of the steamer, the enormous paddle wheel flapped an endless progression, circling faster and faster. Each blade smashed into the water with rhythmic timing, calculated by the captain to take advantage of the river’s swift flow. With a full head of steam the Delta Queen was charging full speed ahead

Below, Baggy Sam Brown ran into the boiler room where his boots slid to a stop. He yelled to John Reilly, trying to be heard over the laboring engine, "The old Queen is taking on more than she can take, John. Hold off!" Baggy Sam’s voice was tremulous, barely audible over the commotion of cranking and flapping.

Yes, sir. The engineer turned to signal Shorty Johnson, the ordinary seaman. Assisting Shorty were two sweaty common laborers, who had been chucking cut wood into the boiler fire without restraint.

Lay down your axes on the wood pile, boys, and take a rest for awhile.

Shorty had wanted to serve in the ship’s gambling lounge that morning and had unsuccessfully quarreled with Captain Seafarer over being posted in the boiler room all day.

Hold your fire! Over! Seafarer’s voice echoed down through the blow tube. Reilly or Baggy! What is going on down there? I need you to take the wheel; I’ve been summoned to my sister’s side. Over.

Below deck, Brown stumbled to the blow tube, Chief, Reilly is trying to fix a mechanical problem with an engine. All furnace fueling has stopped. We must open the escape valve to release the excess pressure.

Seafarer addressed Ben, the trainee, Go directly to the Engine Room and assist Baggy, and then come back with a full report. Is that clear?

Aye, sir! The apprentice ran down the stairwell, and used a trap door to slide down into the steamer’s innards, the dark boiler area.

Suddenly, below deck, a pipeline on the engine cracked, emitting hissing steam and scalding vapor. Shorty grabbed a large iron wrench and tried to open the main escape valve as far as he could, but the valve jammed. It would not budge regardless of how hard Shorty tried to twist it open.

Let me give it a go, mate. Ben said. Taking off his shirt, the tall trainee lent him a massive hand. His bare-chested body sweated hard as he gripped, his biceps glistening and quivering as he started twisting.

I’m almost there, he groaned.

The valve snapped in two.

Above deck, having the time of their lives, passengers engaged in light social conversations or listened to the melodious sound of a plectrum banjo. The rest of the crew quietly attended to the passengers, served drinks and carried out routine chores. All seemed unaware of the drama occurring below.

One passenger, proudly wearing a beret, sat before his easel-mounted canvas and painted a handsome river seascape. A sophisticated group of Maynard Club elders admired his splendid effort, as they strolled up and talked with ease, wallowing contentedly in this rare cultural experience away from their corn and cow-raising society. They would surely remind their farmland friends about this esthetic adventure for years to come.

Even the helm house at the head of the ship appeared regally impressive, despite the steamed windows hiding the astonished expression on the pilot’s face. Seafarer focused on the porcelain pressure dials as he steered, the eight needles currently stuck firmly in the Danger Zone. He wiped the foggy condensation from windows with his shirt sleeve.

Baggy Sam raced back onto the bridge, squirming up through the open trap door to the helm. Chief, he panted, there are major problems down there in the boiler room. Ben is still down there trying to release the exhaust.

Do not tell me we must abort the trip, we must get my sister to ...

Captain, sir, the engine can’t be fixed, only completely venting the boilers will silence them, or the engine will be ruined beyond repair. The Queen has been pushed far over her limit.

"Vent all the boilers immediately. Then notify all of the crew members. I will coast the Queen with the current for a mile to