When one thinks about navigation in regard to the rivers here in the
Smokies region, its old-time ferries and modern-day canoes, kayaks,
rafts, tubes, and motorboats come to mind. But there have been other
sorts of navigation involving flatboats, keelboats, mule boats, whaling
boats, and even steamboats. Some incredible stories have been recorded
in this regard.
The 19th century was the flatboat, keelboat, and mule boat era on the
lower Little Tennessee River. It is best described by Alberta and Carson
Brewer in Valley So Wild: A Folk History (Knoxville: East Tennessee
Historical Society, 1975):
The big wooden arks plied the river carrying ladies,
servants, cattle, horses, dogs, poultry and produce, while oarsmen used
long sweeps to steer clear of rocks, snags and submerged
trees. Flatboats had sturdy wood bottoms designed for heavy loads, and
whatever superstructure best suited the needs of passengers and cargo.
Usually the owner broke them up at the end of the trip and sold the
lumber. An average flatboat cost about $20 to build. It required several
months to build the boat, float it to New Orleans, and sell the cargo
and return.
The Little Tennessee River was deep enough for flatboats as far
as the mouth of Abrams Creek (located in the present-day Great Smoky
Mountains National Park in Tennessee just southwest of Fontana Dam).
Rafts could be used as far up as Tallassee, four miles farther.
Upriver traffic (beyond that point) required a different craft and technique.
Brawny boatmen walked planks along gunwales and pushed with long poles
to propel the big keelboats against the current. Sometimes men walked
towpaths along the bank pulling the vessel by rope, or used a method
called warping (fastening the tow rope to a tree upstream
and pulling the boat toward the tree). If they were able to move the
boat against the current by holding on to trees or bushes on the bank,
it was called bushwacking.
Old-timers even recalled mule boats powered by a mule
walking on top of a broad slatted wheel turned by the mules weight
as its legs made steps that went nowhere.
The whaling boat story was related by John Preston Arthur in a delightful
account that appeared in his Western North Carolina: A History —
1730-1913 (Asheville, 1914) under the heading A Thrilling Boat
Ride.
A large whale boat had been built at Robbinsville and hauled to
a place on Snowbird Creek just below Ab Moodys, where it was put
into the creek, and it was floated down that creek to Cheoah River and
thence to Johnsons post-office, where Pat Jenkins then lived.
It was hauled from there by wagon to Rocky Point, where, in April, 1893,
Calvin Lord, Mike Crise and Sam MeFalls, lumbermen working for the Belding
Lumber Company, got into it and started down the Little Tennessee on
a tide or freshet.
No one ever expected to see them alive again. But they survived.
By catching the overhanging branches when swept toward the northern
bank at the mouth of the Cheoah River, the crew managed to effect a
landing, where they spent the night. They started the next morning at
daylight and got to Rabbit Branch, where the men who had been sent to
hunt them. They spent three days there till the tide subsided, then
they went on to the Harden Farm, which they reached just one week after
leaving Rocky Point. No one has ever attempted this feat since, even
when the water was not high. The boat was afterwards taken on to Lenoir
City, Tenn.
The story about the fabulous steamboat named Vivian is related
in by the Brewers and by Lance Holland in Fontana: A Pocket History
of Appalachia (Robbinsville: Appalachian History Series, 2001).
John, James and Charles Kitchen arrived in WNC during the early part
of the 20th century and established a lumber company on the North Carolina
side of the Smokies. They had acquired 20,000 or so acres of land in
the Twenty Mile Creek watershed and cleared Little Tennessee River area
below what is now Fontana Dam so as to establish Cheoah Lake. After
the lake was flooded in 1919, the only access to their timber holdings
along Twenty Mile Creek was by foot or small boat.
But how in the world do you get the logs out to the sawmill? No problem.
You simply build a steamboat; after all, the brothers did have prior
maritime experience.
The Vivian (named after Charlies wife) was homemade
... a 50-foot long stern-paddlewheeler — crafted from white oak
with four four-foot sidings and powered by an upright boiler steam engine
— it was the pride of the Kitchen Lumber Company ... a sight to
behold as it towed a string of large barges loaded to the gunwales with
logs across the lake to the awaiting locomotive, Big Junaluska ... and
furthermore its whistle could not be ignored, note the Brewers,
as it let out ear-splitting whistles to seal the transaction and
set the mountains trembling for miles.
Stories about the Vivian proliferated in Graham County, of course; after
all, a steamboat built and navigated along a man-made lake in the Great
Smoky Mountains was something worth talking about and remembering. The
one I like best is told by Holland: Joseph P. Sluder, whose mother
Julie ran a logging camp boardinghouse on Twenty Mile Creek, recounted
... that Luther Anthony, Captain of the Vivian, learned to play its
steam whistle to imitate the call of the whippoorwill, that was a beautiful
sound — more beautiful every time we heard it.
(George Ellison is a writer who lives in Bryson City. He wrote the
biographical introductions for the reissues of two Appalachian classics:
Horace Kepharts Our Southern Highlanders and James Mooneys
History, Myths, and Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees. Readers can contact
him at P.O. Box 1262, Bryson City, N.C. 28713, or at ellisongeorge@cs.com