Packets

Monday, Aug. 06, 1928

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The public fancy was last week drawn, unexpectedly, to a romantic anachronism in U. S. travel—the oldtime river packet, built like a summer hotel on a flatboat, puffing smoke from tall twin funnels set near the flat round bows, slapping up the river mud with broad paddles set astern. The occasion was a race between the Betsy Ann and the Chris Greene, two packets plying the Ohio between Cincinnati and Pittsburgh. Captain Chris Greene of the Chris Greene had boasted that his vessel, a steel craft built in 1925, could beat the Betsy Ann "any time." This was nothing short of insulting to a little wooden ship who had made speed records 30 years ago on the Mississippi and who had a pair of gold-tipped elk horns to prove her an undefeated champion. The Betsy Ann's owner, Frederick Way, staked the elk horns that Captain Chris Greene was wrong and told him to put his boat on a starting line. They would race from Cincinnati upstream to New Richmond, 22 miles. Bells jangled, smoke belched, the skippers bawled orders through megaphones. The Chris Greene started ahead, with the Betsy Ann hanging alongside, taking smart advantage of the Chris Greene's swell. Negro roustabouts exchanged cheers and grimaces. It was an oldtime scene, but without the oldtime violence and danger. Barging into the other boat or crowding it ashore was ruled out. Government inspectors were on hand to see that the racers did not exceed their legal allowances of boiler pressure. The Chris Greene drew a length ahead, two lengths, four lengths, five. The Chris Greene's purser appeared on deck with a big sign: "Chris Greene—Rah, Rah!" Thousands of people cheered from the leafy, sun-shot shores. At the finish the Betsy Ann was about 1000 feet behind. A true sportsman, Owner Way promptly boarded the Chris Greene and handed over the Betsy Ann's elk horns. The Senator Cordhill, another Pittsburgh packet, soon challenged the Chris Greene. Rivermen looked for a return of their Golden Age.