Between the Lines / "A ride on the Ohio River"

Sometimes you get the chance to take a nice boat ride on a big river. We did this on our last evening in Louisville, Ky. Like all boat rides, it proved to be eventful. Charlene booked us on the "Belle of Louisville" as the finale of our short vacation. As she explained it, we would get a Southern-style meal and a two hour riverboat cruise afterward. Who could complain about that?

After some oppressively hot days it would be wonderful to escape from city traffic and take in some soothing river breezes. Downtown Louisville is a baffling maze of one-way roads. It makes no sense at all, but it seems every city of a certain age has the same confusing street design. This was almost our undoing on the night of the ride. Mary Ellen and I dropped the others off near the boathouse and headed toward the parking lot a few streets beyond. But the entrance to the lot was clearly marked "one way." Barricades, trenches and wire fencing were everywhere and suddenly I couldn't see the entrance any more. One road led to another, and the next thing I knew we were back on the highway heading toward Indiana.

I am usually a careful driver but I screeched off the next exit and gunned my sister's big sedan along the empty local roads as we tried to weave our way back to the dock. We were racing beside the river like Smokey and the Bandit and praying that no cops noticed my erratic driving. Mary Ellen rode shotgun and shouted desperate directions to me over the GPS. Twenty minutes later, just before the "Belle of Louisville" was about to cast off, we finally parked and sprinted toward Charlene and my nephew Peter, who were anxiously waiting for us. An attendant snapped a cute photo of the four of us holding a life preserver and looking relaxed and happy.

We took a window seat in the dining area, a small but pleasant space for about sixty people with buffet tables lined up in the middle. A DJ fiddled with his equipment and began the evening's entertainment with some corny jokes. He didn't add much to the trip except for a little local color and at the end a pretty lame prank. The food was put out as soon as the boat started to move: fried chicken, coleslaw, potato salad and some soggy slices of cheesecake arrayed on paper plates. The simple fare fit the mood perfectly and soon the passengers were licking their fingers and laughing and talking to the sound of bluegrass tunes.

The old tub slowly picked up speed and we chugged up the Ohio River. I tried to remember from my reading if Huck Finn had ever done the same. The brown river was peaceful and wide, and it wasn't hard to imagine how it must have looked a hundred years ago. The city of Louisville receded behind us and all the stress of travel faded, too. We had the river to ourselves except for a few logs that floated by like alligators. Two boys jet skied along the distant shore and then vanished. The girls and Pete went upstairs to catch the breeze, while I stayed below in the silence of the near empty dining room. I was glad we had visited Lousiville, happy to be with my family and content as a duck on the water.

I can't say just when I noticed the engines shifting into high gear. I felt the stronger vibrations through the floor and saw the V-shaped waves in our wake. Although I wasn't paying close attention, it seemed that the boat had turned around and we were heading back early toward Louisville. The captain announced that a dangerous thunderstorm was moving in and we had to get back to shore. I looked out the window and saw that the sky had turned pitch black -- the blackest sky I had ever seen. I joined Charlene and Mary Ellen on the top deck and watched as the captain steered the boat toward shore and raced the oncoming storm.

The skyline of the city was clearly in view now with heavy roiling clouds massing right above it. It wouldn't have surprised me a bit to see a funnel cloud descend from the sky and suck up the stone buildings. People were enjoying the change of pace, but there was buzz of concern that we might be in danger. For the first time I got a sense of how these brutal storms could just develop out of nowhere and strike a city with a frightening intensity. Jagged forks of lightning flashed in the darkness. The gangplank swayed crazily in the wind and the crew members put on their life jackets. I just hoped we wouldn't become another vacation disaster story.

The wind began to build as a flock of frenetic river swifts followed the ship into port. The DJ, thinking he was being funny, played some special effects from a storm soundtrack and nearly panicked the nervous passengers. But all was well -- we were docking now and saying our hasty farewells to the crew. The sky looked like it was going to break open right over our heads. Mary Ellen and I laughed that we never saw Charlene run so fast to the car. We all slammed the doors at once and let out a sigh of relief. I had a great time. Someday I'd even like to go back to Louisville and finish that boat ride.

Barry Wallace writes a weekly column for the Fairfield Citizen.