Two hours later I was certain we would not see Fort Atkinson on this day. The days were just far too short this time of year. The way I figured it, we would show up at the docks just after breakfast time if we hurried; if we took our time in the morning, it would be a little later. Honestly the weather would be the deciding factor in that decision. We knew we would be staying over that evening and heading back to Rulo the following day.

The steamboat had changed a little during our short time in port. Most noticeable was a small pilot house which had been attached to the front of the cargo house. There wasn’t much to it, but steering was now accomplished with a rudder wheel rather than just a long pole. The story was that Captain Sven was actually giggling like a girl the first time he took the boat out with the new rudder in place. Later I would discover that additional changes had been made both in function and in form.

While touring the small pilot’s nest and chatting with Sven, I learned that the cannibalization of pickups had begun. Most noticeable were the windows of the pilot house because they looked suspiciously liked the rear and side windows of a certain Ford pickup truck. The small couch closely resembled the bench seat from the club cab in Michelle’s truck. I suppose it couldn’t be helped; after all, the vehicles weren’t very useful to us as they sat. I planned on using my truck one last time to move the trailer to its final resting spot; after that, we’d recycle it as well. Without spare parts they were useless to us; the machining to create even the most basic engine component was far beyond our reach.

It would be best to get what use out of them we could and do whatever we could to keep the tractor alive, it was a far more usable tool in any case. I was much happier with my second discovery: the heater core from the Ford had been relocated to the pilot house, making it nice and toasty warm at the flip of a lever. Further exploration showed me that they had simply attached a water reservoir to the top of the boiler and were leaching excess heat from that. Copper pipes were used to move the water and the main radiator from the truck had been placed in the cargo house. A pretty nice hack all things considered.

I also learned that the cargo house had been divided width-wise to provide a semi-secure room in the aft where the mail would be stored. The larger front room had a table and benches for the crew and passengers with hooks for sleeping hammocks. The cooking brazier had been replaced with a small potbelly stove and now had a metal safety box with what looked like truck exhaust pipes for a chimney. I expected to see some missing sheet metal on that Ford when I saw it next.

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The windows in the main cabin were still glassless, with shutters being the only protection from the cold. If you wanted good light you had to go out on deck - you’d find the toilet out there also. As long as we kept the firebox in the engine room at a slow burn we would have some heat and wouldn’t freeze at night.

There was a small hatch in the floor that went down to the engine room, correspondingly there was a hatch heading up into the pilot hut which I hadn’t noticed while I was up there. I saved exploration of the hold and engine room for a later date.

Lighting was still very basic with candles in protective metal boxes. For obvious reasons, oil lamps were strictly prohibited on-board our wooden boat. The table was a simple plank affair and was basically disassembled at night to make room for sleeping. It wasn’t spacious or luxurious but it was better than being outside in the cold autumn rain.

The biggest surprise in the new layout was the addition of two cabins. They were part of the dividing wall between the small mail room and the passenger/crew cabin. The Captain had a cabin and there was a VIP cabin. They even had little signs identifying them; apparently we had way too much time on our hands in port. Calling them cabins was a huge exaggeration, they were actually more like closets. Barely four feet wide and eight feet, they had space for your hammock, your gear and a small writing desk with chair. The desk was nothing more than a couple of planks making up a table top with two supporting boards on the walls to rest the table top on.

However the desk was up against the outer wall with the window so if weather permitted you had good light to work by, with a decent view. You had to take the table top down to hang the hammock but that was a minor annoyance compared to the boon of a workspace with privacy. The door was at the center of the boat and was only a canvas curtain but it suited the purpose and formalized access.

Granted everything was still rough-hewn and spartan, I was impressed and grateful for the upgrades. In comparison to how we had travelled before, this was true luxury. I took a little time and set my cabin up as I thought it should be, including a blanket on the floor for Brin. Then I took my satchel of paperwork out to the main table and started absent-mindedly leafing through it. I wasn’t trying to work just become familiar with what was in front of me and make myself available to the crew. I was genuinely a stranger to some of the men. At best I was an acquaintance and some of them were as shy around me as a teenager with a prospective father-in-law.

While familiarity can breed contempt, it is far more likely to breed comfort. I didn’t want to be a monarch type figure, it was a lot more fun to be friends.