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CRUISING
2006
Rolling
along
A
sternwheeler plies the mighty Columbia
By
Robert Cross
Tribune staff reporter
Published
April 2, 2006
PORTLAND,
Ore. -- We gathered here to begin contemplating
rivers--the Columbia and Snake, mostly,
with glances toward Grand Ronde, Yakima,
Willamette and a few more.
The
Columbia and Snake sorely tested the Lewis
& Clark Expedition during its 1804-06
westward mission. The explorers had to contend
with rocks, rapids, treacherous gorges and
dangerous waterfalls on their way from the
St. Louis area to the Pacific Ocean.
The
Columbia River ends in the Pacific after
churning 1,214 miles. It starts in British
Columbia, travels south into Washington
and then west along the Washington-Oregon
border. Try that with a 55-foot canoe and
a few small pirogues.
During
our seven days, seven nights we had it easier
than the Lewis & Clark crowd, riding
on the Empress of the North, a sternwheeler
and floating hotel with room for 235 passengers
in staterooms rivaling those on oceangoing
cruise ships.
Those
ships travel the seas. This one would make
a 1,000-mile round trip partway up the Columbia
River and back--including a foray more than
100 miles up the Snake.
Our
struggles would be no more daunting than
those required by stairways and gangways.
Meriwether Lewis, William Clark and their
Corps of Discovery endured harsh winters,
occasionally hostile tribes and a seemingly
endless list of chores dictated by President
Thomas Jefferson.
Jefferson,
the nation's premier micromanager, asked
Lewis to write down everything he saw, as
he and Clark surveyed lands acquired in
the 1803 Louisiana Purchase: Determine the
longitude and latitude of every landmark.
Catalog the species of every unusual plant
and animal. Bring back samples of strange
flora, fauna, soil and rock. Learn everything
about the Indians -- longevity, customs,
language, apparel, even the age when babies
are weaned . . .
They
had a lot to do.
Last
fall, on the continuing 200th anniversary
of that expedition (1804-06), most Empress
of the North passengers put up with nothing
more
troublesome
than their personal aches and pains.
From
desert to forest
Rivers,
of course, twist and turn and change elevation.
The Columbia and Snake from the Idaho border
to Portland wend their way past steep basalt
cliffs and deep-green forests after leaving
the improbably dry desert of eastern Washington
State.
Those
rivers have a tempestuous nature. Therefore,
we would encounter dams at eight junctures,
passing through locks 16 times, as we went
forth and back. For the first 100 miles
or so, traffic around us included far more
oceangoing freighters than pleasure craft,
and the sight of lumber mills, log stacks,
factories, container ports and scruffy waterfront
main streets appeared nearly as often as
pristine scenery.
That's
the way it is with rivers 200 years after
Lewis and Clark. They work hard producing
hydroelectric power and transporting heavy
loads. Because the Columbia empties into
the Pacific Ocean, it lets seagoing ships
venture inland before shallows make them
turn around.
We
were instructed to meet in Portland, so
I assumed we'd sail the Empress of the North
from there.
At
a ballroom in the Embassy Suites Hotel,
Empress crewmembers issued each of us a
number, and when it was called, we were
photographed and given an identification
card.
I
had arrived in Portland the previous day,
and I spent one afternoon walking the downtown
Willamette River waterfront looking for
the Empress of the North. I had imagined
it anchored a few blocks from the hotel,
drawing a crowd with its filigreed decks
and gold-trimmed smokestacks, but there
wasn't a sternwheeler in sight. That just
goes to show how little I knew about river
logistics.
We
left the hotel in a series of buses and
took a half-hour drive--over the Willamette,
east and north, over the Columbia and into
Washington State. Finally we came to a halt
at an isolated parking lot in Washougal,
Wash. The Empress of the North awaited us
down there at the dock, said our driver,
just follow the path that leads to the gangway.
Orientation
to the river itself would be the major purpose
all week long. While the boat backtracked
toward Portland and spent the evening tootling
on and near the area where the Willamette
empties into the Columbia--in effect, treading
water--I had time to check out the cabin.
The
decor of my First-Class stateroom, naturally,
tended toward Queen Victoria meets Scarlett
O'Hara--a lot of tufted upholstery, tasseled
shades, red silk and dark wood.
My
stateroom TV added one welcome modern touch--a
big, flat-screen number feeding from a satellite
dish and featuring a built-in DVD player.
The bath, large for a ship, gleamed with
white tile. Just past the two big, silk-draped
windows, my little veranda permitted a sweeping
view of all we passed on the starboard side.
I
sat on the veranda until dinnertime and
watched Portland's suburbia become rural.
A
word about the meals: superb in the Romanov
Dining Room, a red-flocked and gilt extravaganza
with portraits of Czarist royalty on the
walls and brilliant chandeliers hanging
overhead. And not bad, either, buffet-style,
in the Calliope Bar and Grill.
I
learned that the Czarist trappings were
a nod to formerly Russian-owned Alaska,
where the Empress cruises in the sum mer.
And the Calliope Bar & Grill contains
a working calliope that the resident pianist
plays now and then.
In
decor, at least, the American West Steamboat
Co. has made every effort to disguise the
fact that the Empress made its debut only
about three years ago. Her sister, Queen
of the West, came on line as recently as
1995. Incidentally, despite the company
name, the boats' engines run on diesel,
not steam.
The
next morning, we arrived at a section of
river some 10 miles east of Washougal, our
starting point, and 20 miles east of Portland.
We had traveled slowly against the current
and dallied all night for a reason.
Capt.
Dale Orgain wanted us to see this part of
the journey in daylight. "I would like
to welcome you to beautiful Columbia River
Gorge," he said over the public address
system.
The
Empress then entered the scenic highlight
of the trip. Here was the area that presumably
dazzled Lewis and Clark, and after two centuries
it dazzles still: sheer cliffs 800 feet
tall, rocky bluffs more than twice that
high, the startling monoliths Rooster Rock
and Beacon Rock--storied icons of the Oregon
Trail.
My
veranda offered only a limited view. I joined
the passengers roaming the decks. Something
about the air, the sunshine and the landscape
had brightened everyone. After a good night's
sleep, people seemingly had shed years.
A
little before 10 a.m., the Empress entered
a lock made necessary by the Bonneville
Dam. That presented a different kind of
spectacle. The big red wheel on the stern
stopped turning, and gates and walls 60
feet high loomed on all four sides, forming
a container. The container filled with water,
lifting the boat to the level of the river
on the east side of the dam.
"I
remember when they built this, the Bonneville
Dam," said a man leaning on the rail.
That
would have been the early 1930s.
After
about half an hour, a gate opened and we
were on our way to the day's stop, which
involved nosing into the shore at Stevenson,
Wash.
Tours
included
Shore
excursions arranged by the steamboat operators
are included in the cruise price and handled
with dispatch. After lunch, we boarded
buses, and half the group went to Multnomah
Falls and half to the Bonneville Dam visitor
center. We would take turns so as not to
overwhelm either attraction. My bus and
one other went to the dam first.
Guide
Robin Norris of the Army Corps of Engineers
met us with extreme enthusiasm and declared,
"I'm going to give you a talk on how
our generators work, and it is not going
to be boring, OK?"
She
was true to her word. In its descent from
Canada, the river builds up enormous power.
In most places, the Columbia is no more
than a mile across. When it approaches the
Pacific Ocean at Astoria, Wash., the river
widens to an average of 4 miles but still
manages to push its fresh water 12 miles
out to sea.
"The
water shoots out like it's coming from the
nozzle of a hose," said on-board historian
Dan Peterson.
"We
needed the water to be safe for navigation,"
Robin Norris told us. "The water was
very treacherous. We wanted to get control
of that and, whoa, by the way, we can get
some electricity out of it!"
Salmon
get to climbing
Bonneville
Dam holds back 60 feet of water and parcels
it out to the river below through slats
that turn gigantic turbines. That feat of
engineering was fascinating, but the passengers
found the fish ladders even more intriguing.
Salmon
born in freshwater streams alongside the
Columbia swim out to the ocean and live
there from two to five years, until it's
time to spawn and die. For that, they feel
compelled to return home to fresh water
and somehow scale the dam that stands in
their way.
At
Bonneville, the fish swim through a sort
of maze, gradually making their way over
the top. "We don't want them to spend
extra time using up their energy here,"
Norris said. "They need to use it to
get all the way home."
Through
a large window, we could see the fish wiggling
around the fences as they ascended the dam.
At another window, an employee counted every
fish and recorded its species. "She
has to note how many fish are coming by
and what species they are, so the Fish &
Game Department can set fishing limits,"
Norris explained.
"We
want those dead, stinky fish in our streams,
because they're bringing in nutrients from
the ocean. Each spring, we get a lot of
nutrients sluffing off and getting pushed
off to the ocean with the snowmelt runoff.
This is how we get things back inland. The
wildlife eat the fish and go back into the
forest and fertilize the trees, so we're
spreading those nutrients back up the chain."
Between
the various shore-excursion guides, on-board
historians and knowledgeable bus drivers,
our days were filled with fascinating facts
and intriguing lore. After Bonneville Dam,
I hiked up to a Multnomah Falls viewing
platform on a switchback trail.
Back
on the boat, our evenings proved less enlightening,
but jolly nonetheless. My well-traveled
dinner companions, Rick and Loie Polinsky
of Four Seasons, Mo., declared this was
one of the best of their many cruises.
"Our
Mississippi River cruise was on a smaller
boat than this," Loie said. "We'd
go to a lot of these small towns along the
river, and the people didn't seem to know
the Civil War is over. You want to shake
them and say, `You know, that was a long
time ago.'
"Here,
I'm really pleased. This has been a lot
of fun so far, and the amenities are really
top-drawer."
In
the Golden Nugget show lounge, variety acts
backed by a versatile little house band
kept boredom at bay: country and western
one night, a "salute to the divas"
(Midler, et al) another, a tribute to the
tunes of the '50s on yet another.
We
saw a passenger talent show (no American
Idols there) and a couple of modest variety
acts featuring the crew.
I
alternated between those diversions and
watching White Sox playoff and World Series
games on my stateroom TV.
Tasting
time
One
later shore excursion included a visit to
the Whitman Mission (scene of a fatal Native
American uprising), Ft. Walla Walla ( a
cavalry post until 1910) and tastings at
Walla Walla's Three Rivers Winery (2004
chardonnay, 2001 merlot).
On
another day, we took a jet-boat ride through
Hells Canyon on the Snake River (fast but
smooth; bighorn sheep-sightings on the starboard
side). On our return, heading toward the
Pacific, we paused for a bus excursion to
Mt. St. Helens Volcanic National Monument
and a rare, clear-day view of the entire
north face.
After
that, we slowly made our way back, past
now-familiar dams and through locks, until
we reached Astoria, Ore.
We
toured nearby Ft. Clatsop, where the Lewis
and Clark expedition made its westernmost
encampment from Dec. 30, 1805, to March
22, 1806.
A
reproduction of the fort had burned down
only a few days before our visit, but that
wasn't important. We were standing where
those great historical figures stood.
Rex
Ziek, who for the past couple days had been
regaling us with stories of the grueling
labors and harsh conditions of the Lewis
& Clark Expedition, stood near the fort
site and described the winter they would
spend there before backtracking to St. Louis
and their starting point.
They
built dormitories. They hunted elk and butchered
the animals on the spot. They sought out
edible plants. As far as hardships go, it
was more of the same.
But
they were a hardy bunch, Ziek said, carrying
the genes of pioneers who had survived even
more difficulties on the American frontier.
"I
feel as if I'm walking on hallowed ground,"
one woman remarked.
Our
afternoon was free to explore the wonderful
Columbia River Maritime Museum in Astoria,
just a few yards from where the Empress
of the North had docked. I walked the downtown
streets--pleasingly old-fashioned with turreted
houses on the bluffs above.
That
evening, we covered 120 miles, eastbound
to our starting point in Washougal. And
on the last morning, buses took us into
Portland, once more, a river town that the
Lewis and Clark Corps of Discovery passed
at the end of March 1806 on their way home.
IF
YOU GO CRUISE DETAILS
While
the Columbia and Snake Rivers at times seem
full of traffic, the pleasure craft are
mostly small fishing boats. Two rather small
operations handle most of the scheduled
cruise excursions: American West Steamboat
Co.--the one I used--has the 163-passenger
Queen of the West and the 235-passenger
Empress of the North. Cruise West cruises
with the 84-passenger ship Discovery.
River
cruises tend to be more expensive than the
average ocean cruise, because shore excursions
usually are included in the price and ship
capacities are severely limited.
The
company offers river cruises of various
kinds from February through December. Empress
of the North sails Alaska's Inside Passage
from May 9 through early September and spends
the rest of that month cruising Puget Sound
before returning to the Columbia/Snake Rivers
in October.
bcross@tribune.com
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