Powercat
11-11-2002, 07:45 PM
I promised some time back to relate this story and got busy and
failed to follow through so here it is.. 2002
We used to race every year in the Mississippi River Marathon race.
For those of you unfamiliar with this race it was supposed to be
a recreation of the old paddle wheel races that were run on the
Mississippi in the 1800's between New Orleans and St Louis. This
race when we first started was run up river from New Orleans and
my dad started running it back in our wood boat days of 1958.
At that time it was a straight through event run non-stop.
The boats were equipped with headlights and ran the full 1068 miles
only stopping for repairs, fuel, food and water. The boats
were launched into Lake Ponchetrain (sp) and had to go thru locks to
get into the river channel. The very first year my dad had never even
seen the river before the start of the race. They were late getting the
race started as there was a lot of commercial boat traffic through the
locks and it was almost dark by the time all the boats were out into the
river and the race started. They had been given chart books and some
instructions of how to follow the navigation lights on the river. This
first year Bobby Brown, who was my dads half brother and
went on in latter years to found Avenger Boats,was co-pilot.
The race started and they headed up river. Darkness soon closed in.
As my dad related to us later they were running fine at full speed
(16ft wood cat with twin Mark 78 6cyl Merc. engines and about 250
gallons of gas) which was probably 45-50 mph. All of a sudden the boat
jumped straight up in the air back down and up in the air again....
The first thought that went through my dads mind was that there were
rapids on the Mississippi river!!! Backing out of the throttle and
keeping on course they soon discovered the source of the 4ft swells
was the wake from tugboats pushing barges up river.. The swells would
line up all the way across the river for miles behind a tug pushing a
long line of barges up river. The Mississippi is a very treacherous
run of river. The currents change the location of the sandbars
regularly making any deviation from the center channel a gamble at best.
Many of the racers would be running in full daylight and take what
looked like a clear shortcut around a bend in the river hoping to save
a mile or more in distance only to find themselves several hundred
feet from deep water stranded in inches of water. Whole trees could be
floating inches below the surface in mid channel making it a necessity
to carry several spare lower units on board to be changed out on some
muddy bank after impacting one of these obstacles. The pit stops were
located at pre-arranged locations. The race organization provided only
a gravity flow gas truck parked as close as they could get to the water
but only with a short gas fill hose. This is where your "pit crew"
came into play. My mom, my brother, and myself were the pit crew.
Which was a wild job in itself. We had pulled the boat to the race with
our family 55 Cadillac sedan. On the trailer we had about 10 10-gallon
milk cans and some spare parts, All tied down with rope. We left
New Orleans at the same time as the racers. The idea was we were to
beat them to the next pit stop location, fill up the milk cans with the
gas from the truck (it was pre-mix at least) and be ready when the racers
arrived. Sure the racers were only averaging 50mph at best. But they had
the benefit of going in a straight line. We had to negotiate towns, cross
the river back and forth, often on some very slow ferry boats.
(Remember this is 1958 in Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, Missouri)
We often found ourselves flying down dirt roads at over a 100mph with the
trailer barely touching the ground and milk cans rattling like God knows
what, trying to find our way through some cotton field to a spot on a map
that no one new the existence of. I was 12 years old and my brother was
10. Our job was to carry those 10 gallon milk cans from the gas truck
to the boat while my Mom, Dad, and Uncle Bobby would be filling the
tanks by dumping the cans into a large funnel in the neck of the tanks.
I can remember several of these stops being at night with the mosquitos
so thick by the river bank they would carry you off.
Dad was one of the front runners most of the way. We were at what
was to be the last gas stop waiting for them to arrive. They didn't
arrive.... Many of the racers came and went but still no sign of
my Dad. Finally another Powercat racer came in and said he had seen
them a couple of miles back underway but moving slowly. It was after
dark when they pulled in. They had hit a huge tree that had broken
the lower unit on one motor and had pulled the transom loose such that
when they stopped, the boat filled with water and sank. They had gotten
up on a sandbar and managed to change the lower unit but the rear of
transom was damaged so bad that my dad wanted to quit. My mom would
not hear of it. She had been through hell on this trip and was not
going to quit now. A farmer had come down to watch the crazy boat
racers and had driven up on his tractor. My mom got him to pull his
tractor down and we hooked a rope up to the boat and drug it up on the
bank with the back of the boat up on dry land. They went and found some
tin from the side of a barn that was nearby. With hammer and nails they
patched the rear of the boat and stuffed blankets in the opening so that
it kept the water out. My mom and us shoved the boat in and it floated.
My dad and uncle jumped in started up the motors and headed off for
St Louis. We made it there ahead of them to see them finish the race
in 13th place that year...
More on other years to follow....
Danny Leger
failed to follow through so here it is.. 2002
We used to race every year in the Mississippi River Marathon race.
For those of you unfamiliar with this race it was supposed to be
a recreation of the old paddle wheel races that were run on the
Mississippi in the 1800's between New Orleans and St Louis. This
race when we first started was run up river from New Orleans and
my dad started running it back in our wood boat days of 1958.
At that time it was a straight through event run non-stop.
The boats were equipped with headlights and ran the full 1068 miles
only stopping for repairs, fuel, food and water. The boats
were launched into Lake Ponchetrain (sp) and had to go thru locks to
get into the river channel. The very first year my dad had never even
seen the river before the start of the race. They were late getting the
race started as there was a lot of commercial boat traffic through the
locks and it was almost dark by the time all the boats were out into the
river and the race started. They had been given chart books and some
instructions of how to follow the navigation lights on the river. This
first year Bobby Brown, who was my dads half brother and
went on in latter years to found Avenger Boats,was co-pilot.
The race started and they headed up river. Darkness soon closed in.
As my dad related to us later they were running fine at full speed
(16ft wood cat with twin Mark 78 6cyl Merc. engines and about 250
gallons of gas) which was probably 45-50 mph. All of a sudden the boat
jumped straight up in the air back down and up in the air again....
The first thought that went through my dads mind was that there were
rapids on the Mississippi river!!! Backing out of the throttle and
keeping on course they soon discovered the source of the 4ft swells
was the wake from tugboats pushing barges up river.. The swells would
line up all the way across the river for miles behind a tug pushing a
long line of barges up river. The Mississippi is a very treacherous
run of river. The currents change the location of the sandbars
regularly making any deviation from the center channel a gamble at best.
Many of the racers would be running in full daylight and take what
looked like a clear shortcut around a bend in the river hoping to save
a mile or more in distance only to find themselves several hundred
feet from deep water stranded in inches of water. Whole trees could be
floating inches below the surface in mid channel making it a necessity
to carry several spare lower units on board to be changed out on some
muddy bank after impacting one of these obstacles. The pit stops were
located at pre-arranged locations. The race organization provided only
a gravity flow gas truck parked as close as they could get to the water
but only with a short gas fill hose. This is where your "pit crew"
came into play. My mom, my brother, and myself were the pit crew.
Which was a wild job in itself. We had pulled the boat to the race with
our family 55 Cadillac sedan. On the trailer we had about 10 10-gallon
milk cans and some spare parts, All tied down with rope. We left
New Orleans at the same time as the racers. The idea was we were to
beat them to the next pit stop location, fill up the milk cans with the
gas from the truck (it was pre-mix at least) and be ready when the racers
arrived. Sure the racers were only averaging 50mph at best. But they had
the benefit of going in a straight line. We had to negotiate towns, cross
the river back and forth, often on some very slow ferry boats.
(Remember this is 1958 in Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, Missouri)
We often found ourselves flying down dirt roads at over a 100mph with the
trailer barely touching the ground and milk cans rattling like God knows
what, trying to find our way through some cotton field to a spot on a map
that no one new the existence of. I was 12 years old and my brother was
10. Our job was to carry those 10 gallon milk cans from the gas truck
to the boat while my Mom, Dad, and Uncle Bobby would be filling the
tanks by dumping the cans into a large funnel in the neck of the tanks.
I can remember several of these stops being at night with the mosquitos
so thick by the river bank they would carry you off.
Dad was one of the front runners most of the way. We were at what
was to be the last gas stop waiting for them to arrive. They didn't
arrive.... Many of the racers came and went but still no sign of
my Dad. Finally another Powercat racer came in and said he had seen
them a couple of miles back underway but moving slowly. It was after
dark when they pulled in. They had hit a huge tree that had broken
the lower unit on one motor and had pulled the transom loose such that
when they stopped, the boat filled with water and sank. They had gotten
up on a sandbar and managed to change the lower unit but the rear of
transom was damaged so bad that my dad wanted to quit. My mom would
not hear of it. She had been through hell on this trip and was not
going to quit now. A farmer had come down to watch the crazy boat
racers and had driven up on his tractor. My mom got him to pull his
tractor down and we hooked a rope up to the boat and drug it up on the
bank with the back of the boat up on dry land. They went and found some
tin from the side of a barn that was nearby. With hammer and nails they
patched the rear of the boat and stuffed blankets in the opening so that
it kept the water out. My mom and us shoved the boat in and it floated.
My dad and uncle jumped in started up the motors and headed off for
St Louis. We made it there ahead of them to see them finish the race
in 13th place that year...
More on other years to follow....
Danny Leger