The noon departure on the Illinois was memorable. Martin and his family boarded the boat at the bow, and because they had tickets for staterooms, they were directed up a front-facing “grand staircase” leading to the upper deck. Martin thought that the staircase perhaps once was grand, but it now appeared well worn with patched railings and a couple of patched steps, likely evidence of abuse by prior rowdy passengers. As was explained to him by the ticket clerk, this was not a luxury cruise.
A passing crewman then referred to the upper deck in English as the Boiler Deck; Margaret caught the remark, and she understood the term. She immediately stopped walking up the stairs and asked Martin to get clarification as to whether they would be sleeping next to the boilers. She would stand there on that step with the children until he found out more. From long experience Martin knew that there was no point arguing with Margaret, so he immediately looked for a crewman to question. Near the top of the stairs Martin grabbed the arm of a cabin boy to seek an explanation, and after a couple of minutes another man explained in German that there were never boilers on the Boiler Deck. That was just the traditional name of the deck on the second level where the staterooms were located. Margaret was reassured, though she thought that the misleading terminology was quite odd.
The family continued up the stairs. There they could turn either left or right, though a wide double door straight ahead of them was open and allowed a view of what was called the Main Cabin, another crewman explained. This large central room appeared to extend for nearly the length of the ship. The ceiling of the back two-thirds of the Main Cabin was a large skylight, and with the sun nearly at its high point of the day, the room was pleasantly bathed in light. The crewman explained that this was the dining room where meals would be served for stateroom passengers. Of course, deck passengers had to bring their own food, he added. He pointed out that the front third of the Main Cabin lacked a skylight because several additional rooms were built up there, including the pilot house as well as cabins for the Captain and crew. That upstairs area was called the Hurricane Deck, or recently the Texas Deck. He thought this name had been adopted because Texas was just admitted as a state in 1845, and it’s the largest state just as the Captain has the largest cabin.
The family was directed leftward toward their two staterooms labeled “Virginia” and “Maryland,” which were side-by-side on the starboard side and located about a third of the way down the length of the ship. Margaret entered “Virginia” and encountered a quite small room with a tiny table, two chairs, a small built-in closet – and no bed! Just then a cabin boy entered and showed Margaret how a shelf folded down from the wall to become a narrow double-bed. He also walked a couple steps further into the room and demonstrated how a door gave direct access to the centrally located dining room. So, each small stateroom had a door to the exterior walkway and a door to the dining area. Martin was impressed by the clever design. But he was trying to imagine three children sleeping on blankets on the floor in each of their two rooms. He hoped that they all would adjust well to this adventure. The cabin boy explained that every stateroom had a wash basin and a ceramic pot for waste that would be emptied once a day by a maid. There also were two small communal “outhouses” at the back of the boat, one for men and the other for women. A communal toothbrush was chained to the wall in each of the outhouses for convenient use by passengers.
The boat would soon be pulling away from the dock, so Martin and Margaret stood on the exterior walkway with their children so that they all could watch the spectacle. As they waited for the departure, Martin asked a passing cabin boy about five wooden barrels that were positioned at intervals along the walkway. It turns out that these barrels were to collect rain that runs off the Texas Deck to serve as drinking water for the boat. If rain is sparse, then buckets of water taken directly from the river were used instead.
Five minutes later the whistle shrieked, and four men worked quickly to cast off lines that secured the vessel to the dock. The boat rocked under their feet, and the deck sent vibrations up their legs as the Illinois moved slowly backwards out of its mooring accompanied by noisy chugging and snorting. The children squealed, laughed and clapped. Martin smiled as he considered that this likely would be a memory that his children would retain for a lifetime. Margaret was amazed by the large number of boats moving in all directions in the river. It seemed a miracle that none collided.
The clerk had been right that the steamboat’s numerous stops as they progressed up the river were mildly aggravating. Martin wanted to get to Iowa, but he was resigned to the necessary duration of the journey, and he was determined to enjoy the travel and continue to learn about America. Many of the 132 passengers were new immigrants from Ireland and the German kingdoms, so Martin, Margaret and the older children were able to trade stories with several of their countrymen. They learned many new words and phrases.