Showing posts with label riverboat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label riverboat. Show all posts

Friday, January 19, 2018

Riverboat Travel in the Old Wild West

This post is brought to you by Janalyn Voigt.

Riverboat Travel in the Old Wild West

This riverboat Mural in Independence, Oregon (Polk County) captures a romantic view of riverboat travel; Gary Halvorson, Oregon State Archives [Attribution], via Wikimedia Commons
Most of us think of western migration in America in the context of covered wagons. While it’s true that over 500,000 people traveled the Oregon Trail at its height (between 1843 and 1869), many others made their way west by a different route. Riverboats traveled farther inland than most people realize. Alexander Culbertson of the American Fur Company built Fort Benton at the end of the navigable waters of the upper Missouri in what is now central Montana.

Those willing to occupy the limited space remaining on the lower deck after the deckhands loaded the freight onboard a riverboat, could buy tickets fairly cheaply. 'Deck passengers' brought their own food and fended for themselves against the elements on the open deck. It couldn't have been fun to ride alongside the boilers, not to mention the livestock, cotton bales, and barrels, while crammed in with other passengers. It did, however, carry them to their desired destination.

Double the fee bought a private room on an upper deck and the chance to enjoy fine cuisine in the elegant dining room, gamble at a table in the bar, and lounge in comfort while watching the river slide by.


Whether sheltering with the cargo or living in luxury, both types of passenger might face danger. A riverboat might crash into a tree snag, run aground on a sandbar, catch fire, or suffer a boiler explosion. The wreck of the Sultana, a riverboat accident on the Mississippi in 1865 at the end of the Civil War, took more lives than the Titanic. The fire that burned down half of St. Louis in 1849 started on a steamboat. 

People took riverboats at their own risk. With liquor and gambling on board, passengers had to watch both their belongings and fellow passengers. The crew might not be honest either. The riverboat captain might have hired a professional gambler to fleece those reckless enough to approach the gaming tables. Sometimes a riverboat ran aground on a sandbar or gravel bar and passengers disembarked to lighten it, only to be abandoned once it was freed.

With all these troubles, why would anyone want to travel by riverboat? Speed. A steamboat could travel up to 5 miles per hour. Compare that to the 20 miles a day a wagon pulled by livestock averaged. Remember, too, that the Oregon Trail was not exactly safe either. During Montana’s goldrush, the backdrop for the Montana Gold series, miners were in a hurry to reach gold. The heroine of Cheyenne Sunrise, the second book in the series, travels to Independence by riverboat. Her brother Con, with whom she travels, distrusts riverboats so much that they join a wagon train for the rest of their journey. His attitude was not uncommon. 
Riverboats had a reputation. 

About Janalyn Voigt


Janalyn's father instilled a love of literature in her at an early age by reading chapters from classics as bedtime stories. When Janalyn grew older, and he stopped reading to her, she put herself to sleep with tales "written" in her head. 

Today Janalyn is a storyteller who writes in multiple genres. The same elements--romance, mystery, adventure, history, and whimsy--appear in all her novels in proportions dictated by their genre. 

Cheyenne Sunrise (Montana Gold, book 2)


Can a woman with no faith in men learn to trust the half-Cheyenne trail guide determined to protect her?

Young Irish widow Bry Brennan doesn’t want another husband to break her spirit. When she and her brother Con join a wagon train headed to Montana Territory, Bry ignores her fascination with Nick Laramie, the handsome trail guide.
Nick lives in an uneasy truce between the settlers and his mother’s tribe without fully fitting in among either. With no intention of dragging a woman into his troubles, he stifles his yearning for Bry.

The perilous journey throws the two together, leaving Bry no choice but to trust Nick with her life. Can she also trust him with her heart? Answering that riddle forces Bry to confront her unresolved questions about God’s love.


Based on actual historical events during a time of unrest in America, Cheyenne Sunrise explores faith, love, and courage in the wild west.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

In the Footsteps of Mark Twain

This article is brought to you by Janalyn Voigt

The calliope, an air-operated Tangley Calliaphone, played bright music from America’s past while the riverboat plowed through the muddy Mississippi. I sat beside my husband, who had joined me by plane at the end of my road trip traveling the Oregon Trail backwards on the way to a family reunion. A photograph from the trip shows us looking relaxed and happy. You’d never know that our toddler had just thrown a grand tantrum. After being strapped in a car seat for the better part of each day for a week, she'd had more than enough of our road trip. All she wanted was to run and play. Why wouldn't we let her?
Of such is life.


Mark Twain Riverboat at Glascock's Landing, Hannibal, Missouri; Image by Chris Light (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0], via Wikimedia Commons
Freed from what should have been a pleasant cruise but had become a memory-maker of another kind, we returned to our accommodations at Hannibal’s Belvedere Inn. We’d chosen this Italianate mansion turned bed-and-breakfast for its vintage beauty. The palatial ceiling and incredibly tall windows in our room made me feel like a child at a grown-up tea party. They knew how to build a mansion back in 1859. 

After a night’s sleep and a breakfast buffet, we visited the boyhood home of Samuel Langhorne Clemmens (aka: Mark Twain). The picket fence surrounding the home would have needed whitewashing in young Sam’s day, of course. The home itself was modest but comfortable. Seeing the environment where young Samuel grew up connected me with a bygone era. I could almost hear the neighborhood kids playing on a summer day or shouting with joy while swimming in the river.
Boyhood Home of Samuel Langhorne Clemens (Mark Twain); Image by Andrew Balet (Own work) [CC BY 2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons
We went across the street to see the childhood home of Laura Hawkins, an early playmate of Samuel's. Laura’s birthday fell on November 30th and Samuel’s on December 1st, so the families often celebrated together. She was Samuel’s childhood sweetheart and the inspiration for Becky Thatcher in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Laura didn't wind up with Samuel, however. She married a physician named James W. Frazer, and the couple had two sons. He left her a widow in her forties. In 1895, Laura signed on as matron of a home for orphans and the destitute. She and Samuel Clemmens were lifelong friends who stayed in touch with one another.
The Becky Thatcher House, Hannibal Missouri By Andrew Balet (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Laura Hawkins' account of going to school with her childhood sweetheart.

The day had grown hot and our feet weary, so we grabbed a quick bite to eat and went back to our room to rest. We had the usual tourist's restlessness, so before long we decided to take a walk around Hannibal. Because it’s that kind of place. No matter how big Hannibal grows, I suspect it will always feel like a small town. While on our walk, we noticed a house on a hillock standing out some blocks away. We started uphill towards it, but the heat and fatigue plagued me. I kept going anyway, intrigued by the commanding home.


We followed the last stretch of aging sidewalk to discover that we’d stumbled on a historic home open to the public. To our delight, the Rockcliffe Mansion had not been spoiled by renovation “improvements,” but had largely been left in its original state. We were not allowed to take photographs, lest our flashbulbs destroy the fragile antiques. Unspoiled treasures such as I have never seen before and may never again lay on every hand, down to exquisite wallpaper, tiffany windows, carved woodwork, light fixtures, statues, carpeting – the list is too long for me to describe here. 

Rockcliffe Mansion on the NRHP since September 18, 1980, at 1000 Bird St., Hannibal, Missouri on top of a rocky hill. The name Rockcliffe is very appropriate. Built by a lumber magnate, the home sat empty for over 40 years. The mansion is now a B&B in Mark Twain's hometown. Image by Smallbones (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Images of the interior of Rockcliffe Mansion. 

We toured all the areas of the mansion except the parts that were off-limits. Rockcliffe Mansion offers bed and breakfast accommodations. I'd like to go back and sleep there someday, although like many homes steeped in history, it has a reputation. You see, this was Hannibal's haunted house and informed the description of the "ha'nted house" in Mark Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.

Mark Twain stood on a special platform built over the Rockcliffe Mansion’s main stairway landing in 1902 and gave a speech to the town’s worthies. Looking out over the foyer from much the same place that he stood, I could almost see his admiring audience, dressed in their best, listening, smiling, laughing. Mark Twain knew how to entertain a crowd. The realization that it had been his final visit to Hannibal brought a lump to my throat. Wealth, fame, fulfillment in work, an audience most writers can only dream about – he had it all. It hardly seemed fair. 
The sum total of even a celebrated man’s existence fades with time. 

Jesus’s words came to me then. "Don't lay up treasures for yourselves on the earth, where moth and rust consume, and where thieves break through and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consume, and where thieves don't break through and steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” Matthew 6-19-21; World English Bible.


This is why I write, to proclaim that our mortal life is not all there is, that it doesn't end with the grave, and that human souls are more important than treasures that one day crumble to dust.


About Janalyn Voigt

My father instilled a love of literature in me at an early age by reading chapters from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Robinson Crusoe and other classics. When I grew older, and he stopped reading bedtime stories, I put myself to sleep with tales I 'wrote' in my head. My sixth-grade teacher noticed my interest in storytelling and influenced me to become a writer.

I'm what is known as a multi-genre author, but I like to think of myself as a storyteller. The same elements appear in all my novels in proportions dictated by their genre: romance, mystery, adventure, history, and whimsy. 

Visit http://janalynvoigt.com

Hills of Nevermore by Janalyn Voigt

Can a young widow hide her secret shame from the Irish circuit preacher bent on helping her survive?
In an Idaho Territory boom town, America Liberty Reed overhears circuit preacher Shane Hayes try to persuade a hotel owner to close his saloon on Sunday. Shane lands face-down in the mud for his trouble, and there’s talk of shooting him. America intervenes and finds herself in an unexpectedly personal conversation with the blue-eyed preacher. Certain she has angered God in the past, she shies away from Shane.


Addie Martin, another widow, invites America to help in her cook tent in Virginia City, the new mining town. Even with Addie’s teenage son helping with America’s baby, life is hard. Shane urges America to depart for a more civilized location. Neither Shane’s persuasions nor road agents, murder, sickness, or vigilante violence can sway America. Loyalty and ambition hold her fast until dire circumstances force her to confront everything she believes about herself, Shane, and God.Based on actual historical events during a time of unrest in America, Hills of Nevermore explores faith, love, and courage in the wild west.

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Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Independence – Gateway to the American West

This post is brought to you by Janalyn Voigt

Traveling the Oregon Trail Backwards, a Road Trip Adventure, Part 10

The wheels carrying me through Independence, Missouri, turned beneath a car rather than a wagon, but I fancied that the broad streets and heavy traffic of this jumping-off point to the American West hadn't changed much since Oregon Trail days. Take a look at the map, below, and you'll see why so many people converged in Independence.
Gateway to the west, Independence Missouri.by Chris Light (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0], via Wikimedia Commons
What would pioneers have thought of the speed of our modern conveyances, I wondered? An automobile would be hard enough for them to come to terms with without adding in airplanes. How would neon lights, modern dress, or changes in morality have struck them?  I could hardly imagine their shock. The smile that touched my lips gave way to a frown at what we as a nation have lost. That’s not to say that all progress is bad. I like my washing machine, finding a crop that failed in my garden in the grocery store instead, and the Internet for connecting with readers. Not all change its bad. 

Not all change is good either. Sometimes I wish I had been born on an earlier day, at a time when America was young. I suspect I’d have been one of the emigrants who eagerly went westward, pursuing a dream. Some of the women who forged a new world in the West did not have that mindset, however. The advice, famously credited to Horace Greeley, for young men to go West was a call to adventure. With the New World to conquer, men flocked to Independence, a popular gateway to the American West. Some of the wives and daughters who came with them protested in their diaries that they considered the undertaking foolhardy, but they followed their menfolk into the unknown, regardless.

A scene from an earlier day: Independence Courthouse [Missouri]. Engraving, Drawn after Nature. Aus d. Kunstanst. d. Bibl. Instit. in. Hildbhsn. Eigenthum d. Verleger. (circa 1853)
Title: Independence Courthouse (Missouri).[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons 
What did these brave women think and feel when they left civilization, not to mention members of their family behind? Did they cling to remnants of the life they’d known in the East? That many women scratched entries into diaries in between camp chores and tending children after walking an average of twenty miles in a day, often while pregnant, points to their understanding that they had become part of history. They made their mark on the West as surely as the men they traveled beside, softening its rough edges and calling for churches to be built. 

Eager to reach Hannibal, where we’d booked a stay in a historic home frequented by the likes of Mark Twain, the small family group in which I traveled hurried through Independence. I’ll never forget my impression of its far-flung streets, buildings built in a bygone era juxtaposed with modern structures, or the glint of the Missouri River on its outskirts. Riverboats once plied the muddy waters, carrying emigrants as far westward as the Missouri Breaks in Montana.

Bry Brennan, the heroine of Cheyenne Sunrise (Montana Gold, book 2 releasing February 1, 2018) travels part of the way West by riverboat in the company of her brother, Con, one of the characters from Hills of Nevermore (Montana Gold, book 1). While researching Cheyenne Sunrise, I learned that a riverboat journey was not as comfortable as it might sound, nor was it without danger. Partially-submerged logs known as “deadheads,” hidden sandbars, and overheated boilers were some of the hazards that could cause delay or outright disaster. Whatever trails pioneers took westward, the means by which they traveled often brought them to Independence.


Hills of Nevermore (Montana Gold, book 1)

Library Journal: "Manages to keep the reader glued to every twist and turn. For readers who like their romances squeaky-clean and those interested in the historical Western setting."


Romantic Times: "Voigt is a talented author who has weaved several genres into her novel, and has created a beautiful first story in her Montana Gold series."

Learn more about this book.
Sign up for Janalyn Voigt's email list.

About Janalyn Voigt


My father instilled a love of literature in me at an early age by reading chapters from "The Wizard of Oz," "Robinson Crusoe" and other classics. When I grew older, and he stopped reading bedtime stories, I put myself to sleep with tales I "wrote" in my head. My sixth-grade teacher noticed my storytelling ability and influenced me to become a writer.

I'm what is known as a multi-genre author, but I like to think of myself as a storyteller. The same elements appear in all my novels in proportions dictated by their genre: romance, mystery, adventure, history, and whimsy. 

 Escape into creative worlds of fiction at http://janalynvoigt.com.




Friday, April 25, 2014

Elegant As A Steamboat



Almost 20 years ago while at a family dinner, my sister-in-law (who worked on a cruise ship at the time) said she had “jumped ship” at the last moment to attend the family function. That chance comment spawned images that have haunted me ever since. I knew what she meant, yet my imagination took over. For the remainder of the evening, the writer in me watched a movie play over and over in my mind. A panicked man running along the deck of a Mississippi riverboat as someone chased him. To escape, the pursued man jumped overboard into the murky waters below. Story questions ensued. Who was this man? Who was chasing him, and for what reason? Little did I know at the time, but it would take nearly two decades to finally settle into writing his story and learning the answers to my questions.

Now that I am working on the story, I find myself researching Western riverboats. Laurie Alice Eakes has already filled us in on their origins here, so I thought I would pick up where she left off. This month, I’ll tell you a bit about the riverboats architecture, and as I delve deeper into my research, I’ll probably fill you in on other aspects of riverboat life and lore.

First, not all riverboats were created equal. It depended on which river the steamboat was meant to traverse as far as what shape and size it would have. Western riverboats were common sights on the Mississippi, Missouri, and Ohio rivers, but due to the different terrain of each river, the boats had different features. A Missouri River boat would have a rounded prow, and was known as a “mountain boat.” Along the Ohio River, some boats were much stouter and could be used to “tow” other boats. And down the Lower Mississippi where cotton was king, boats were often much wider due to decks that extended well beyond the sides of the hull. These decks were called “guards” and were there to help protect the side-wheel paddles from getting hung up on any low-hanging branches or other things along the river’s edge. In addition, those “guards” were used to store goods, mainly huge bales of cotton, as they were transported along the Mississippi River.


Main cabin (or Saloon) of the City of Arkansas
Riverboats usually had three or four decks. The bottom deck was known as the “main deck,” where you’d find the inner workings of the steamboat. At the forecastle, the ship’s anchor and other implements were stored. A bit further back, you’d find the boilers and fuel. Progressing toward the back of the boat, the space was filled with pipes, valves, and other engine room paraphernalia. Beyond this came the wheelhouses, a few offices, and at the stern came a stable for any livestock the ship might transport. They filled any remaining space on the main deck with cargo.


Ladies Cabin on the J. M. White 
The second deck, named the “boiler deck,” consisted of one long interior cabin called the main cabin or saloon. This room was the central spot for passengers to spend their time. It contained tables and chairs for meals or socializing, as well as barbershops, bathhouses with hot and cold water, and other luxuries. It was opulently decorated with lots of intricate scrollwork, gilding, beautiful chandeliers, and etched or stained glass. In the earlier days of riverboats, this area would be cordoned off at night into curtained berths for sleeping. The men’s berths were toward the front, the women’s toward the back. A partition separated the two areas.

By the 1840’s, riverboat architecture progressed to the point of providing actual staterooms. The staterooms were situated along the perimeter of the main cabin, and each room had two doors. One led into the main cabin, and the other out onto the wide promenade deck, where passengers could sit or stroll. The staterooms also were elaborately decorated, just as the main cabin. They included beds, washstands, mirrors, and other amenities to make their trip comfortable. Most riverboats could accommodate 125 passengers, but paying customers would not be turned away if there was a lack of staterooms. In such cases, the rooms were given to the women and children first, and any men who lacked a room would be bedded down on the floor of the main cabin each night.

Boiler deck Promenade on the J. M. White
(Notice the spittoons spaced every few feet).
The third deck is known as the “texas” and held the officer’s quarters. The fourth and final deck was the pilothouse, a small, square structure where the captain piloted the boat. If the boat had only three decks, the pilothouse sat in front of the texas.

Most steamboats were painted completely white, although some had blue roofs, or sometimes blue, green, or red hulls. They added color to the stark white through the use of bright flags and pennants, stained glass windows, as well as elaborate murals depicting the names of the boats.

And speaking of the names of the boats, Hollywood has it wrong. So often in movies where a riverboat plays a part, the name of the vessel is the generic River Queen. In reality, the names were far more interesting. A few examples are Arabia, Gold Dust, or Lady Madison.

It’s your turn. Have you had an opportunity to travel on a riverboat? If so, please share you experience.


Jennifer Uhlarik discovered the western genre as a pre-teen, when she swiped the only “horse” book she found on her older brother’s bookshelf. A new love was born. Across the next ten years, she devoured Louis L’Amour westerns and fell in love with the genre. In college at the University of Tampa, she began penning her own story of the Old West. Armed with a B.A. in writing, she has won five writing competitions and made the top 10 and top 3 in two other competitions. In addition to writing, she has held jobs as a private business owner, a schoolteacher, a marketing director, and her favorite—a full-time homemaker. Jennifer is active in American Christian Fiction Writers and lifetime member of the Florida Writers Association. She lives near Tampa, Florida, with her husband, teenaged son, and five fur children.