We were standing behind a gate on the loading deck to, what I would come to find out, was the historical Delta Queen Hotel. And by 'Hotel' I mean Steamboat. And even 'boat' is an understatement at the sight of this massive, four-story authentic river cruiser. The stars were out and my nose was running from the frigidity of the riverside breeze.
A 1966 provision to the Safety of Life at Sea Act was meant to dock the steamboat because of it's primarily wooden framework. Advocates and owners of the passenger cruise petitioned, successfully, for extensions to Presidents Nixon and continued chugging down rivers until 2008. Which brings us to the locked gate on a loading dock in Chattanooga before an astounding, floating bed & breakfast.
After revealing our name and room number, the bald man with pinched eyebrows checked us out a moment longer before grabbing the door knob and welcoming us aboard the Delta Queen.
"Did you try the code?" he asked. His bottom lip pouched outward and his words were quick and slathered with a raspy southern accent.
Gaining some trust by helping him give the broken door knob the once over, his demeanor towards us changed altogether. While escorting us through the wooden french doors, he proudly pronounced his prestige as the longest-running crew member aboard the Delta Queen. Clabon, who shook Nick's hand and gave me a hug, was on board for the steamboat's final cruise.
While traversing the steep, antiquated pine green and floral-print carpeted staircase pointing straight towards a diamond chandelier, we were invited to coffee in the lobby. Upon entering, it was impossible to overlook how busy the room was with bookshelves and blown-up, black & white photographs lining the walls adorned by lavish, gold frames. Not so much with other people.
Despite the late hour, we gladly accepted his invitation.
Two cups of slowly sipped coffee later, we were well versed on the Delta Queen's reputation for housing the Navy during World War II; the rumored haunting, supposedly by the first-ever lady captain of a steamboat, Capt. Mary Greene (chairs flinging from beneath tables in deserted rooms in front of bartenders); the wild parties in the Texas Lounge, now home to The Paddlewheel Restaurant and Bar; and especially this wonderful employee's pride in working the third shift aboard the distinguished boat.
When we finally made our exit toward the room, exploration ensued. I was mesmerized by the library of history books and novels, along with National Geographic magazines dating back to the late 19th Century. Colorless photographs littered the shelves, full of people dressed in cocktail dresses and tuxedos sipping cocktails or posing for a portrait.
Paintings of Capt. Mary Greene and her family gave Clabon's supernatural stories some clout, just before bedtime, of course. After reading plaques inscribed with the history surrounding us, we ventured onto the deck with a view of the artfully constructed, blue walking bridge and the Tennessee River. Currently, the bridge is decorated with electric white snowflakes. Their reflections, along with car lights sweeping across the water, had my eyes darting around, on the lookout for ghosts as we chatted in rocking chairs on the fourth floor of the Delta Queen.
By the time we reentered the undersized door (equipped with a real key and everything!), I was content with the limited space inside the room. While it was rather snug, and the water for the shower had to run for 45 minutes simply to get warm, I would recommend a stay at the Delta Queen Hotel for anyone willing to forgo the luxuries of modern hotel rooms and subdue to the close quarters of an eerily interesting piece of American river history. According to Clabon, Capt. Mary isn't too fond of technology, either, having several guests report odd incidents involving computers during their stay on the steamboat.
Did I mention you get free breakfast, too? (It's okay, to be honest. Maybe not five star, but, again, it's free and hot.)
No comments:
Post a Comment
I am always happy to hear from you!