As soon
as we broke through the trees
we got a quick lesson in current. Leo and Mark, and then Bob and Katy,
paddled into it and were swept away at about five miles an hour plus paddling
speed. That may not seem fast. But after the still waters of the bayou,
it looked like they were
on a freeway, quickly disappearing from view. We spent the first half hour
or so playing in the current, going way out in the middle of the river.
The boats got so far apart we couldn't even yell to each other, and we
were worried that we might not be able to stick together unless we worked
hard at it. Then the barges came. (picture: Katy, Joan and Waterproof ,
La. in the background).
From everything we'd heard before we got on the river, we expected that the barges would be the most dangerous things we'd encounter, steel monsters that would swallow us in their wake--a terrible wake worse than any powerboat that has ever rocked our canoes on little lakes. In one picture we found on the Internet while we were researching the trip, this guy is sitting in his canoe maybe 20 feet from a huge tanker, and it looks like it's five stories high. So when we saw our first barges crawl northward on the Misssissippi, we got way out of the way. We all paddled towards the left bank and braced ourselves. But the barge wakes didn't even touch us even if the barge is very close.
Eric and I took a pit stop on the shore, to check out the real banks of Big Muddy. It was a great place to stop. It was flat wet sand, colored copper, with lots of bugs and lots of shade from trees. When we were calling around Mississippi and Louisiana to research the trip before we left, people in Port Gibson had told us that unless the river was flooding, we could expect to find nice banks like this all the way down. Seeing this first beach, we figured there would be many more. We were wrong. But we didn't know it yet.
We didn't plan to stop long at this pleasant beach but after all the paddling on the bayou then all the unshielded mid-day sun in the river, Eric felt a little woozy when he stood up, probably suffering some mild heat exhaustion. We were already learning that, on the river, the heat is relentless. Besides the shade felt great. We figured the crew would be smart enough not to go too far without us. This was one of few times we were out of sight of each other.
Up ahead, Mark, Leo, Bob and Kate had landed on another sandy beach. It seemed really early to stop since we had only been on the river for an hour and a half. But it's a good thing we did since it was probably the nicest campsite of the whole trip, and no one wanted to hunt for a campsite in the dark, like we had the night before. Large pieces of driftwood lay on the sand. A few paces back from the shore was a five-foot high sandy cliff (the only rocks we saw on the entire trip were clearly brought in from somewhere else] leading to a field of grass where we pitched our tents.
We all went swimming, which felt great. The water was cool enough to be refreshing but not so cold you would hesitate to get in. It was the first time any of us really got into the water, except for Leo, who had jumped in when we were back in the bayou. (The crew attributes Leo's bravery to the fact that he didn't see any alligators in the bayou, like most of the rest of us did).
We hung our clothes out to dry on the driftwood, which turned out to be a wasted effort. (Later we learned that anything that gets wet on the Mississippi stays wet until you put it in an industrial sized drier in a laundromat. All that sun and heat but nothing ever dries?!)
Bob put together an impressive campfire fast and played a Muddy Waters tape on a walkman stereo he bought at the Walmart on the way to Port Gibson. That was the only tape he had and we heard that tape every night and often during the day. We can all sing parts of that tape, even now.
By this point, the bottom of the canoes was filling with sundry items like suntan lotion, soda cans, beer cans, cigar butts, cigar wrappers, cigar rings, used bandaids (from Eric's foot -- just like the previous summer's sailing adventure, Eric injured his foot the first day), muddy water (aka "river gumbo"), soggy potato chips, honey roasted peanuts, etc.
This
is where the lunch boxes came in handy. Before the trip, Eric and I sent
out care packages to each crewmate. The package contained a crew manifest,
a map, a rough description of the logistics, a list of things to take,
a rubber ducky, a squirt gun, and a copy of "Life on the Mississippi" by
Mark Twain. After hunting around for a long time for something to put all
this stuff in, we finally decided to use a kid's plastic Batman lunch box.
We didn't like the Batman sticker so we printed copies of the map on sticky
paper and attached it on top of Batman. We decorated the map with reptiles
and a picture of the owner and covered it with see-through contact paper
to protect it from moisture.
KATY's lunchbox
They turned out to be quite useful.
The lunch box could
sit in the bottom of the boat and protect the contents from the sloshing
river gumbo but still be easy to get into. Eric kept cigars, a lighter,
mini-binoculars, my wallet, a camera and a toothbrush in mine. Everyone
used theirs for something a little different. Bob kept the walkman and
mini-speakers in his. Every time we stopped for a while, he could quickly
pull it out and in no time Muddy Waters was playing. Bum-bada-da-dump!]
That first sunset was amazing. In the bayou we didn't really get the full effect, because we were closed in by the tall trees on the narrow banks. But out on the beach, we could see a huge swath of sky go orange-red all at once.
We cooked hot dogs on sticks, after some discussion about how to attach the hot dog. Hot dogs with chopped onion and yellow mustard were a staple on the trip. We watched a spectacular lightning storm in the distance while we ate but we only felt a few drops of rain. We sat on the three lawn chairs (from Walmart) and the three coolers (also from Walmart). This turned out to be not quite enough seats. The coolers kept being used as tables.
At night we got our first hint of the dark side of the barges. At least a few times, they swept their search lights all around them to make sure they didn't hit snags in the river. The lights swung over the bank and our tents. They must have been a half mile away, but they were so bright it was like having a car right outside the tents with its halogen highbeams aimed right at you. Briefly. We heard a fog horn sound too. It took awhile to put it all together and realize these were those same harmless barges we had seen during the day.
Sometime during that night, fire
ant scouts located the stray honey roasted peanuts in the bottom of Eric's
and my boat. They went home and told their friends. By morning an entire
army of fire ants made a red line across the sand, up the very tip of the
boat. The line disappeared into the floatation (that little area at both
ends of the boat 
that
is inside the boat, but covered by aluminum. it keeps the boat floating
if the boat is swamped) and reappeared as a red line on the bottom of the
boat. they were after the small pile of peanuts--what Mark observed as
the ultimate ant food - sugar and protein.
We sprayed them with insect repellent, which at least confused them. We watched them drop off the stern one by one as they got mired in Deep Woods Off. Then we submerged the canoe in the river for a while and scrubbed out any remnants of food. However, the ants continued to bite feet and legs periodically for the rest of the trip.
Stay tuned for Chapter VII, Wherein we get our first and last taste of civilization on the Mississippi.
Mississippi Main Page 
World
Trip