THE FIRST SHIPWRECK.
Our first experience in shipwrecks came early. We were all ready to
start; the home had been rented, furniture disposed of, the outfit
ordered, and the boat lay ready for occupancy, fresh and clean in new
paint--when we discovered that we had to go through the old canal--the
Illinois and Michigan--to La Salle, instead of the drainage ditch, on
which we were aware that Chicago had spent many millions more than
drainage demanded, with the ulterior object of making a deep waterway
between the great city and the Gulf! Here was an anxious thought--would
the old canal admit our boat? We visited headquarters, but naturally no
one there knew anything about so essential a matter. We went down to the
first lock at Bridgeport, and the lockmaster telephoned to Lockport, but
the Chief Engineer was out and no one else knew the width of the locks.
But finally we met an old seafarer who carried in his pocket a list of
all the locks of all the canals in the U. S., including Canada; and
from him we got the decisive information that the narrowest lock
admitted boats with a maximum width of 17 feet. Ours measured 18 feet 3
inches!
After prolonged consultation it was determined that the only way out was
to cut off enough of the side to admit her. So the purveyor, who had
guaranteed the boat as fit in every way for the trip, began to cut,
first building an inner wall or side with two-by-fours. Getting this up
to a convenient height he concluded to try for leaks, and slid the scow
back into the water with the side half up. It was just an inch too low;
and when he rose next morning the scow reposed peacefully on the bottom
of the river, the water having, in the night, come in at the low side.
The following week was consumed in endeavors to raise the boat and get
the water out. Meanwhile we were camping out in an empty house, eating
off the kitchen table, sleeping anywhere, and putting in spare time
hurrying the very deliberate boatmen.
Just then we received from the Sanitary District folks the belated
information that the locks are 18 feet wide, and 110 feet long, and
that the height of the boat from the water line must not exceed 17 feet
to enable it to pass under bridges.
For nearly a week various means of raising the craft were tried, without
success. Finally the wind shifted during the night, and in the morning
we found the upper margin of the hull out of water. The pumps were put
in operation and by noon the boat was free from water. It was found to
be reasonably watertight, despite the straining by jacks, levers,
windlasses, and other means employed to raise first one corner and then
another, the breaking of ropes and planks by which the corners had been
violently dropped, etc. But the absence of flotation, as evidenced by
the difficulty of raising an unloaded boat, wholly constructed of wood,
should have opened our eyes to her character.
The side was rapidly completed, the furniture and stores brought aboard,
and the boats started down the canal, while the Doctor and Missis went
to Joliet to meet the outfit and avoid the odors of the drainage. The
men ran all night and reached Lock No. 5, at Joliet, about 5 p. m.,
Wednesday, Sept. 30, 1903. This was altogether unnecessary, and we
might as well have come down on the boat. Meanwhile we found a shelter
in a little bakery near the Joliet bridge, where the kindly folk took
care of the little invalid while we watched for the arrival of the
boats.
[Illustration: THE OLD CANAL.]