Dakota Diary - 7- On the Riverboat

 June 7th, 1883

Our home for the next ten days or so is to be the Missouri River. Mr. Lester warned us that it is a capricious stream, changing its channel so often that it has become a common saying, that you never know where to find it in the morning; and this fact, with the frequent and sudden changes in the depth of water, causes the ferry and steamboats (of which we have seen two in the river) to seek new moorings daily. As there are no wharves, the boats are run high and dry upon the
banks for the purpose of landing freight and passengers - not a pleasant way for passengers, but no doubt economical for the steamers.

“This river is navigable more than 2,000 miles above this city at the high stages of water; but the railroads are fast taking the place of river service; and a few years more will see the steamers on the upper waters entirely withdrawn. It is a remarkably muddy stream at all seasons, and at its junction with the Mississippi its waters discolor those of the latter stream, changing them to its own cloudy yellow hue,” he told us.

 

We couldn’t believe our luck, as the Far West was due in from St. Louis, and would arrive, if all went well, about 10 a.m. which suited us just fine.

We were sad to be leaving Mr. Lester, whom we now thought of as a real friend. He intended to continue his journey to San Francisco, and promised to write to us, back in Connecticut, to tell us how he got on. We invited him to stay with us when ever he was back East again.

When the Far West arrived, we asked the pilot if he had room for us.

“Because the numbers of passengers are down this year, due to the railways being so successful, you girls can have one of the nicest cabins on the boat - and I will only change you half price - $50.”

It still seemed a great deal of money - but when we found that all our food and entertainment was included, it really seemed a good deal after all. Our train fare from Chicago to Bismarck would have been at least $20 each, and then we would have had to buy our food on top of that.

We well knew the history of the Far West, which had been providing supplies to the Seventh Cavalry in 1876, during the Battle of the Little Bighorn. And then the wounded were transported to Bismarck by it, in record time - and with it came the news of General Custer and his men’s death - as well as that of our own father. So much has been said about Captain Grant Marsh that we were very keen to meet him.

The Far West had a different Pilot now, but we were thrilled to know that Captain Marsh, who was taking a sentimental last trip up the Missouri, was also on board. Captain Marsh did some
of the navigating, but he was free to spend more time visiting with us. As soon as he found out who our Pa was, he took us in hand, just as Mr. Lester had done, and we had our questions answered before we had a chance to think of them.

Captain Marsh told us first of all, a bit about what he is doing now.

“Since those days that you reminded me of, back in 1876, things have changed quite considerably for me. Just a couple of years ago, I decided to go back to my roots - on the Mississippi. It is a nicer climate for my family. They have put up with too many miserable winters in Yankton already. So when I had safely landed Sitting Bull at Fort Yates, a few years back now, I unexpectedly found two men who were anxious to purchase my vessels at a good profit to me. I made a bargain with them, and then removed with my family to Memphis, Tennessee, which I can tell you girls is a lot different from Dakota Territory.”

“Did you have any regrets, Captain Marsh?”

“I was loathe to leave the town where I had resided for so many years, but I foresaw better business
opportunities on the Mississippi - now that river traffic on the Missouri is drying up, so to speak, and I decided to avail myself of them.”

“But there still must have been work to do on the river, or those men wouldn’t have been so anxious to buy your boats,” said Cora Sue.

“Oh, yes, that is true. Because of the trade having diminished until its importance is insignificant compared to what it was earlier years, lots of steamboat men have left for other fields of enterprise, so there is still employment for the men who do stick to the life.”

“You say you are going back to your roots on the Mississippi. How old were you when you started on a river boat?” I asked.

“I’m glad you asked me that, Mattie, because it gives me a chance to tell you about my old friend, Samuel Clemens - probably better known to you as Mark Twain. I started my career on the river, working for him.”

“Do you really mean that? You worked with Mark Twain? We have met him. He is a good friend of our friend Phineus Barnum, who lives in Bridgeport, where we do. And he introduced us to Mr. Clemens and his wife one day a few years ago,” added Cora Sue.

“Well here is a story about when I had just finished my apprenticeship, just starting out. I was working on a boat called the AB Chambers, and the second pilot, a smooth-faced young fellow, whose quiet and retiring manner did not prevent his being very popular with all his associates, proved a most excellent navigator, knowing his river thoroughly and possessing the judgment to make the best use of the knowledge.

“This story I am telling you about was when we were making our way to New Orleans. The weather had been very cold and on the day that the Chambers set out from St. Louis, masses of floating ice filled the channel, rendering progress difficult. The next afternoon, when about 165 miles from St. Louis, and two miles below the town of Commerce, Missouri, the boat was hugging the shore of Power’s Island to avoid the grinding pack of the mid-channel, when she went hard aground on
the foot of the island. No efforts availed to get her off and soon the fuel gave out. The cabin was full of passengers and the lower deck laden with live stock so it was imperative that she should be
floated as soon as possible.

“In common with all the boats of her day, the Chambers burned wood in her furnaces. To supply the demands of traffic, tons of wood on scores of flatboats were scattered along the banks of all navigable streams, but it so happened that no yard was near the point where the Chambers had come to grief. Therefore Captain Bowman instructed the mate to take a crew in the yawl to Commerce and float a wood flat down, Clemens going with him to navigate.

“To keep out of the ice-filled channel, Clemens crossed to the Illinois side and then turned upstream through a narrow cut-off between Burnham Island and the main bank. The river around here was very
narrow, flowing swiftly between high banks. The drifting ice frequently jammed in the cut, leaving a space of open water in front, until the volume of cakes piling up behind would break the gorge and the whole mass come sweeping down restlessly. To cross a small boat through one of those spaces of open water, into which at any moment the grinding cakes might rush, was an exceedingly hazardous undertaking, but there was no other way of reaching Commerce.

“With anxious eyes the little party in the yawl scanned the menacing waters. When the ice lodged above, no man could tell whether it would remain stationary long enough for them to cross, or break and overwhelm that in mid-channel. At length a favorable opportunity seemed to come and the pilot ordered the men to pull for shore when the jam broke and surged down upon them.

“'Turn back quick, Sam' I shouted. 'We’ll be crushed.'

“'No,' he said quietly, watching the river and continuing to hold his rudder square. 'Go ahead, as fast as you can.'

“Almost miraculously they slipped through and reached Commerce in safety, though but for Clemens, the lives of all would undoubtedly have been lost.

“Sam and me grew to be fast friends during our association and we maintained a more or less regular correspondence.”

“Tell us more about the Far West. You surely most know her better than anybody,” I said.

“It was built in 1870, in Pittsburgh and is a stern-wheeler 190 feet long by 20 feet wide by 6 feet deep and a 33 foot beam which draws only 20 inches light.  Mountain boat super-structure is minimal to cut wind resistance and save weight; and we have a hurricane roof, just added a few years past. She can carry 200 tons and 30 passengers. It is powered by three boilers which are 15 feet by 5 feet.”

“Did steamboats always look just like this one does? I remember seeing a picture of one once that looked different.”

“The earliest steamboats on the Missouri River were the so-called 'side wheelers', which had large wheels on either side of the boat as the name would imply. On the circumference of these wheels were paddles that provided the driving force to propel the boat through the water. They worked fine on the Mississippi. But these side wheelers proved impractical on the narrow, winding, and ever-changing channel of the Missouri River and were soon replaced with the 'stern wheeler'
vessels. That’s what this is with one paddle wheel, mounted at the rear.”

“How fast can it go?”

“Most can average 75 miles a day upstream with good weather conditions and somewhat faster than that downstream. Fueling is the major problem on the Missouri River, as we burn mainly cottonwood and willow with the crew sometimes cutting the wood themselves. On this trip we have only 150 people - of which twenty are deck passengers."

“What sorts of problems do you come up against - as well as bad weather?”

“Snags in the river are the worst. And because of that, we don’t work at night. So at this time of the year, we start at 6 a.m. and tie up at 10 p.m. but in October, just before we finish for the winter, we
don’t start until 8 and finish at 6, so those trips take a lot longer.”

“Do you enjoy it, or is it hard work?”

“Navigation on the ocean is simple compared to the Missouri River. The Missouri River pilot is unsurpassed in his profession, if I do say so myself. He cannot be absent from the wheel more than five minutes because of the swift current, snags and the prairie wind. And if you asked me who the best three most outstanding Missouri River pilots were I would say Captains Joseph La Barge, William Massie and myself. But we do get good wages for what we do, but we also take the risk of
not living so very long. I’ll tell you girls, but I don’t want you to quote me on this, I got $1200 for each round trip on the Missouri that I did and there were times when I got as much as $7500
for one round trip from St. Louis to Fort Benton. But then we don’t work for the six months of the winter at all. Where did you girls come from before you got to Omaha?”

“We took the train from New York to Chicago. We have just been down to Springfield to see the Wild West show with Buffalo Bill.”

“Have you now? Well, I have spent many a day in that man’s company I can tell you, and enjoyed every minute of it. And talking about Buffalo Bill reminds me of another Bill - Wild Bill Hickok I can tell you a story about my friend Captain Massie. He was playing poker with Wild Bill Hickok on the day Wild Bill was shot and killed. The bullet passed through Wild Bill's head and pierced Captain Massie's left arm.”

“We were kind of hoping to see Sitting Bull and maybe Annie Oakley or Calamity Jane while we are on this trip. Do you know any of them?”

“Yes, indeed, I know them all. And a nicer couple of sharp shooting ladies you will never find. Sitting Bull is quite a man too. I got to know him real well on that last trip I had taking him from Benton down to Fort Yates. You can’t help admiring him despite his stubborn ways.”

“He was supposed to star in the Wild West show, but after the first night he backed out. But Buffalo Bill is hoping he will change his mind. It would be a nice way for him to earn some money.”

“Money is a concept that the Indians never have come to grips with. First of all, they bartered for everything they wanted. Then with them going on the reservations, they get given what they need - so they don’t need to work to make money. Some of them do, and some of them spend every spare penny on drink - they are so depressed with the hand fate has dealt them. But while he was in jail, Sitting Bull learned how to sign his name - and he got a hold of some pictures of himself, and
was selling those for a buck a go. He learned pretty quick how to make money then. Funny thing is how he spelled his name - Seitting Bull.”

“I expect boats like this make most of their money from carrying freight - but that probably is going to be less now too, with the new bridge opening in Bismarck.”

“Yes, things are changing all the time. Some of the boats can take up to 188 tons of freight but that is unusual these days. We used to have a postal service - and carried letters up and down, but now the trains have taken that on - although we can still frank letters from the boat, just in case you want to send one home to your relatives as a souvenir of a time which will soon be long gone.”

“Oh, that would be a wonderful souvenir. We would really like to do that.”

“And are there lots of accidents with these boats?”

“Hardly a year goes by without a boat or two sinking. Sometimes everyone is saved, and sometimes not. You might have heard that the Big Horn was sunk this year, on May 8thth, on the upper Missouri near the mouth of the Poplar River.”

“Have you ever had a problem where you thought you might sink?”

“Many a time I have been scared stiff, but luck with has been with us so far, touch wood. We’ve had a few men overboard problems, but most of them got saved.”

“Talking about men getting saved, I believe it was this boat, and you who were so much mentioned in the aftermath of the Battle of the Little Bighorn where our Pa was killed.”

“I knew Mark well, and he was a fine man. And I can tell that he would be proud of his daughters, from what I see of you girls. One day when we were waiting for things to develop, he came with me on this boat - getting more supplies from Glendive to take back to the our base on the Powder River. I showed him what this boat could do on that trip, and he was very impressed. We did the 95 mile round trip in less than three hours. But yes, as you say, that will be what the Far West is most remembered for bringing the news of the massacre, and the wounded back.”

“How did you happen to be there in the first place?”

(to be continued)