《A Ten Pound Bag》Chapter 116 – St. Charles
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Uneventful and tedious. That about fully describes the boat ride down. We saw settlements and the occasional minor trading post sweep past. None worth our time to stop and dally at. Next year we’d have a diplomatic mission to create relationships up and down the river. For now, we had a winter quickly approaching and we needed a lot of equipment in short order to accomplish our preparation.
The truth is, we wouldn’t have had a problem this winter if it had just been our original crew. Even the first three additions of Holder, Amos, and Esther wouldn’t have posed a serious problem. The moment the community started to grow, though, we had to expand and expand fast. That meant building; building meant tools; getting tools always seemed to add people. And so here we were.
Well, where I was, happened to be a riverboat. I was learning a lot even on this quick trip. My next journey would be back up to Fort Dickinson, which would teach me about their upstream work. From everything I’d heard thus far, it was basically a brutal battle with the river, the entire way. I could see that with my own eyes, in the boats we passed going the other direction. They became more frequent as we approached the towns.
The first thing I noticed was that they only cooked food at camp after a long day's work. Being a river boatman had to list near the very top of any hard labor list. Over-worked, under-paid and under-fed just started the story. Part of the problem was that it was a young man’s job that you aged out of quickly. Once you passed 35 years old, you had to move on, because your body just couldn’t take it anymore. That got me thinking that boats needed propulsion and needed it soon. At least the boats that I used. I’d loved the idea of sticking one of the diesel motors into a boat, but I’d obviously have to find a way to camouflage it as steam and distill my own diesel if I could find the oil. My research had shown me it was nearby. You can’t just chug into St. Louis under diesel power without attracting the wrong kind of attention. So the answer had to be steam and I didn’t know much about it yet. That fact would need to change quickly.
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Until I got to that point, I just needed to pony up the money for a larger crew. The crew approach was the obvious first step and probably the easiest. I could offer them their own homes and year-round employment. The river was unpassable north after October, which created hardship for them, particularly if they had a family. I could have them clear roads and chop wood all winter long. We’d provide them with a house, fuel for warmth, and food to eat. Timmons agreed that I had something there. Most of these guys enjoyed this life for a while, but then burnt out and had to survive off constant short-term work.
We agreed to double the number of deck apes to twenty, among them I wanted to add a second mate and a permanent shipwright. We weren’t trying to turn a profit right now. Rather we just needed to get things done, and doing the crew right would be a good start. Food was the top of the list and we’d work on other things from there. It might cut back on our load size a little, but I wanted an upgrade for these fellas and I wanted people to stand in line to work for us. However, I would have Timmons start boat shopping while we were down here. He was also charged with recruiting family types for the crew; stability was also one of my prime goals.
****
St. Charles was our first stop in civilization. We had bypassed many small posts and this was the last stop before the Mississippi and the confluence. I knew that, in some ways, St. Charles was a much more stable location than St. Louis and would experience less upheaval during the upcoming periods of national turmoil. St. Louis had been hit hard by the Panic of 1819 and St. Charles had come out of it in much better condition. We could overnight here and face the confluence and the mayhem of St. Louis tomorrow. We'd be well rested and hopefully better dressed. Days of sleeping rough don’t necessarily lend to keeping oneself looking proper and gentlemanly, so off to the barber I went. Amos was now in full servant mode, with Timmons along to help keep him in line. In the end, Timmons wasn’t needed, aside from the fact that he needed cleaning up, also. So Timmons and I got our faces and hair cleaned and cared for, then we had to head across town to the black section to get the same treatment for Amos. That was just a shameful waste of time.
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Next came hot baths and a visit to their only tailor, where we managed to garner a decent change of clothing to wear when we hit St. Louis. I managed to guess Amos’s size and get him a respectable pair of pants and clean white shirt. It simply wouldn’t do, to have a slovenly servant accompany me. We found a shoe maker in the black part of town that was able to provide him with a decent pair of boots. Even so, the boy was still growing and I didn’t want to go overboard.
I managed to secure a room in the main hotel. They had a bunk area set aside for servants; Amos would sleep there. I spoke a strict warning that anyone touching him for any reason would face my wrath and I’d see them at the end of a rope. Paying in pure gold seemed to solidify their resolve to provide proper care for my servant.
Timmons joined me after the boat and crew were squared away. He had the crew settled and armed watches set. The crew knew that, once we were in St. Louis, they would have a bonus paid and we’d hire outside security until we started to load valuables. I had booked a room at the hotel for Timmons as well and we took our supper together. The hotel restaurant wasn’t up to Matilda’s standard, but they still served a fine meal. We spent the rest of the evening in the hotel bar, which seemed to be the town’s gathering place for well-heeled men. We tried to mix and mingle a little. We made a few decent contacts, which I later painstakingly noted in the journal I had dedicated for the purpose. The only journal books I had were modern paper that would not take quill and ink very well, so I was forced to use a modern pen under the cover of privacy.
Besides, I was still struggling to master the quill and ink as a writing tool. A keyboard was so much more efficient.
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