Reflections

[HostDave]

By Christopher Kyte, President

I got up early this morning to watch the sunrise over the river on this, the last full day of our voyage in the long road of our return to American river cruising. We were on our way to Madison before docking tomorrow in Cincinnati to mark the end of our cruise from Memphis. I showered, dressed and then stepped onto the deck, but the rose-colored glow of pre-dawn light had not yet appeared. Instead, I found a cool blue surrounding us as the sun was still far below the horizon. It wasn’t dawn but it wasn’t night and it was definitely earlier than I thought. My first inclination was to go back to bed but, instead, I forced myself to head down one deck to the Front Porch of America for some coffee and pastries. I’m immensely glad that I did.

What I, and a handful of other early risers, discovered this morning is the peace and quiet of life on the river. In my blogs, I’ve spoken about entertainment, cuisine, destinations and a host of other subjects. But this morning I felt the true pulse of the river and the American Queen’s place on it.

The warm electric lights of the Chart Room, the Front Porch of America and the lights above each stateroom that opens onto the deck glowed determinedly. In the pre-dawn darkness we maneuvered slowly and carefully, guided by GPS and other electronic wonders that Mark Twain could only dream of.

The American Queen was a bubble of 19th century glamour and tradition lost in the 21st century. I clasped the cup of coffee in my hands and settled into a rocking chair on the Front Porch of America and soaked it all in. For a brief few moments, there was nothing in the world but the glow of the American Queen in a world just waking to the day. Time stood still.

Then, from somewhere, I heard the morning crow of a rooster. It was the first hint that there was a world outside the American Queen. Somehow, it seemed appropriate that the sound was not that of a car or truck, a radio on a riverside house, or someone’s voice. It was a rooster and it sounded exactly as it must have 200 years ago.

As the sun started to rise, the shadow of the riverbanks on either side began to emerge as slowly as more guests from their staterooms, each headed for a cup of coffee and a glimpse of the river before the bustle of towboats and river traffic pushed the quiet waters into the 21st century.

In those few moments this morning when there was nothing in the world but me, the river, and the American Queen, I reflected on my journey. It was hard to believe that less than one week ago today Godmother Priscilla Presley was breaking a bottle of champagne and naming the American Queen, the famed ducks from the Peabody Hotel in Memphis were waddling their way through the boat’s Grand Lobby, or that we were headed upriver for a week-long journey accompanied by media chase boats and news helicopters. Everyone associated with the American Queen had worked so hard to reach this point, it seemed a disservice that it felt not like a week in the past, but a lifetime ago.

I have met some wonderful people on this cruise. From those celebrating wedding anniversaries to those reveling in the joy of their own personal victories. From those enjoying their first steamboat journey to those ecstatic at the chance to sail once more on their beloved American Queen. From a young waiter from Memphis giddy with joy over realizing his dreams to a Riverlorian from Louisville bursting with excitement to share his love and passion for the river.

We have traveled from sunsets in Memphis, the cheering race crowds of Louisville to the early morning blue light of Madison. From Andouille Hash and Crabcake Benedict to Smoked Brisket and Fried Green Tomatoes with a Bacon Pepper Jelly. From the heartfelt recipes of Chef de Cuisine Regina Charboneau to the warm smiles of the townsfolk greeting us today in Madison. From the sweet strains of the Harry James Orchestra in the Grand Saloon to the music of Bob and Jackie in the Engine Room Bar.

The new friendships are palpable. The American Queen has a different vibe than she did when we left Memphis. She’s no longer a steamboat on a voyage upriver to Cincinnati. She is a community, filled with people who have laughed at the same jokes, danced to the same music, broken bread over the same dinner tables and who have shared a little something of themselves.

This morning as the American Queen sailed upriver in the pre-dawn blue light, she was a bubble in a bigger, broader world. She was more than a steamboat on the river. She was a microcosm of what makes America the country that she is. She was not a hotel or a cruise ship. Neither a steamboat nor a bed and breakfast. No, for these few days, she has become our home. And I am proud to have shared that experience with all of you aboard. And, for all of you reading this blog, I hope you will let us soon have the chance to welcome you home to ourAmerican Queen.