Ploys on the Mighty Mississippi : Californians Given Stern View of Riverboat Racing

In the old days, they raced steamboats seriously in New Orleans.

When word of an impending race spread, crowds would gather on the levee to watch black smoke billow from towering white smokestacks and boat crews strain over steam-hot boilers as the great paddle-wheelers charged down the river.

Young boys would dream of growing up to be riverboat captains, while mothers and old men would murmur about the dangers--about the day in ‘49, perhaps, when the steamship Louisiana’s boilers burst asunder, sending 86 passengers to the bottom of the Mississippi and shooting shards of iron so far so fast that one hit a mule on the levee and cut it in two.

In his day, Mark Twain once wrote, a good racing captain would strip his boat of every unnecessary encumbrance that might reduce speed, and public interest grew so feverish that “politics and weather were dropped and people talked only of the coming race.”

Ah, for the good old days.

Carrying More Weight

These days, diesel oil powers the engines, crawfish pie and jambalaya add greatly to the weight of ship and passengers alike and, at least this week, politics are not forgotten--not even for a race.

Saturday night, the California and Louisiana delegations to the Republican convention went for a race down the drought-depleted channel of what is still the mightiest river in the land.

They began with Gov. George Deukmejian and a Cajun band leading an early evening parade to the waterfront from the California delegation’s hotel.

The boats weighed anchor as sunset reddened the summer haze. And then, as night fell, with mighty blasts of their horns, the Creole Queen, carrying California’s 701 delegates and friends, and the Cajun Queen, bearing the Louisianians, passed under the Greater New Orleans Mississippi River Bridge and churned downstream at just over 14 m.p.h., pennants fluttering in a humid breeze.

Psychological Maneuvers

Early on, both sides had engaged in the sort of psychological maneuvering typical of great athletes in all eras. Louisiana Rep. Richard H. Baker, assuring the crowd that not all local traditions have changed, told Deukmejian the race had been fixed ahead of time and presented the governor with a basket of local fruit as a “consolation prize.”

Deukmejian, demonstrating an uncharacteristically devil-may-care attitude toward politically sensitive issues, responded by reminding Baker that Capt. Brian Collins of the Creole Queen owned property in Imperial Beach. If he fails to win, Deukmejian said: “I will raise the captain’s taxes.”

Deukmejian then gave Baker a present, California wine, to share with the captain of his boat. “We want your captain to start drinking it now,” Deukmejian quipped.

“It’s no problem for Louisiana captains to consume all of this and still be able to navigate,” Baker responded.

A Narrow Margin

Perhaps he was correct. When a barge in the river shot off fireworks to mark the end of the race, Louisiana had won.

“Not by much,” said Capt. Collins.

“I’m heartbroken,” laughed Assembly Minority Leader Pat Nolan (R-Glendale). “I put up $10 to bribe a guy, and it didn’t work.”

“The real race,” said state Republican Party Chairman Robert Naylor, “is whether we can carry these two states for Bush.”

Staff writer Claudia Luther contributed to this story.