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Journal Notes from the November 1998 Float to the Sea:
DAY 5
(Nov 9)
Fog
this morning, and a breeze picking up out of the South. By the time I got
packed and was floating around Fitler Bend (opposite Fitler in Issaquena
County) the wind was really picking up, out of the Southeast, and the
waves beginning to buck. This wind was the beginning of the violent storm
system that extended the length of America, from the Great Lakes to the
Gulf Coast. Sometimes there's just nowhere to run and hide.
The
waves get real bad on a windy day when a large barge tow passes upstream,
or around agitated sections of the current. They're particularily bad
around corners where the water moves fast and makes boils and eddies, some
larger than the Clarksdale City Auditorium and the Pinnacle and City Hall
combined. But when a barge passes and you happen to be going around an
agitated bend - well, you'd better get off the river. Either that, or
you'd better get ready to be splashed and sprayed. I decided to maintain
the channel, and I did get wet. Halfway down Cottonwood Bend, though, I
discovered a blue hole in a cut in the revetment, and decided to get wet
because I wanted to get wet. Besides, it was time for a bath.
I
met Major and Donna Winters at the Monticello, LA, grain elevator.
"Where do you want a ride to?" Donna asked. It was poor
sportsmanship on my part - but excellent behavior for a riverrat: I took a
ride to Vicksburg in the back of Major's truck. It was only thirty miles.
"I'll come back and float those thirty miles some other day," I
told myself, trying to silently justify my laziness. It was good luck,
however, because that night the wind turned gale force, and the next
morning a vicious line of thunderstorms struck the river. I heard on the
news that tornadoes had touched down, and the winds were 80 miles an hour
on the Lake Superior. Strangely, It was the anniversary of the sinking of
the Edmond Fitzgerald.
On the way, Major showed me where he was
born, and where the levee broke in '27 (Cabin Teele Crevasse?). You can
tell by the nature of the land. Its supposed to be black Delta soil, like
on the Mississippi side. However, when the water came pouring through in
that great flood, it brought with it enough sand to cover a swath of land
several miles wide, and as many long. "The land's no good for
planting," Major explained. "Even now, its only fit for grazing
cattle or horses."
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