Remember taking this picture, Ed Matlack? I think this is all your fault, Ed Kostro, for writing your poem about Wanderlust. You guys want to take a cruise to a warmer venue?

Got the Hots

By Scott D. Zachary


The mercury is below zero; ice and snow infringe on my doorstep. But the mercury in my heart is boiling. The travel trailer, which serves as my office, overlooks the Ohio River. All day, every day, I look out my window, waiting and longing for the slightest hint of spring. Oh, how I yearn to see a crocus blossom, to feel the warmth of the sun, and to inhale the heavenly aroma of coconut lotion.

This afternoon, a barge landed on the shore below my office. That’s all it took to clang my mental ship’s bell. I jumped on the horn and called my boat storage company. I told Ralph to get my boat, "Cruisin’ Skipper’s Dream" (the Dream), ready for a long cruise. "Are you serious?" he quizzed; "it’s freezing outside!" Ralph talked me out of my wishful delirium for the moment, but just give me one tiny, little, microscopic telltale sign of spring, and I’ll be back on the horn. Bet on it.

Ever since I got off the phone with Ralph, I’ve been unable to think of anything else. All that water out there, my boat in storage, and me in here. Damn. Now, why am I not living on the Gulf? Good question, Scott.

Oh, well. Since I can’t cruise, I suppose that this is an ideal time to plan the Dream’s next excursion. Two years ago, my wife and I cruised the Dream from West Palm Beach across the Gulf Stream to Grand Bahama Island, where I married her. I would love to repeat that voyage, including our wedding, but I think it’s time to break some new water. Hmmm, or see some new sights, anyway.

Last year, a couple of friends and I cruised nearly a thousand miles over a period of six days. That was a fun trip. We set out downstream from Cannelton, Indiana on the Ohio River. Just shy of Paducah, Kentucky, we headed up the muddy Cumberland River and through a 54-foot lock into Lake Barklay. From there, we traversed a canal to Kentucky Lake, which is actually on the Tennessee River. We traveled about 300 miles up the Tennessee River before retracing our course back home. I could sit on the Dream’s roof forever with the wind in my face, contentedly watching the bow’s bursts of spray.

Okay, so where am I going to cruise this spring? Immediately, two thoughts spring (there’s that word again) to mind. Up the mighty Mississippi past St. Louis to the source of that great river . . . or downstream, stopping over in Memphis, to New Orleans. That’s an easy decision. To New Orleans, it is!

Is that a crocus I see out there? Damn, it’s a bubble gum wrapper.