It was the fortune of the writer to make a voyage on the first trip of the "Colonel Wright," up the river to Wallula, a feat which was generally supposed to be impossible, and in fact, most people with any knowledge of the rocky, rapid, and dangerous character of the river, believed the projectors of the enterprise were simply throwing their money away in building the boat. The reasoning of the promoters was, that steam should go where sail would take a boat; if not, then steam and sail together ought: and therefore they put a mast in their steamboat, which carried a huge square sail; this proved a material advantage during the season of winds, which are regular trades up the river. Subsequently it was ascertained that a little greater steam power was ample without sail, and thereafter no steamboats were built with masts.
The question of fuel was a grave one. The country about the upper Columbia is almost absolutely treeless. Its sources are well wooded, and on various bars along the river were considerable deposits of driftwood remaining from former years, and annually reinforced, to some extent, each season of high water. Efforts were made to increase this supply by catchment, and for the first season the boat was supplied in great part, by drift-wood. Evidently, however, this supply could not be depended upon, and eventually the boat was compelled to take with her, from her starting point, wood for fuel for the entire round trip—this comprising in its bulk and weight the principal part of her cargo. Fuel was also expensive, wood costing $10 per cord.
The "Colonel Wright" was under the command of Captain Len White, an experienced stern-wheel steamboat man. He had spent some months in navigating and studying the river in a batteau, for the purpose of learning its intricacies and dangers before assuming charge. While noted for certain excentricities, Captain White will long be remembered as a bold and skillful pioneer navigator on the Columbia and Snake Rivers.
The steamboat was named after the popular and distinguished Colonel of the Ninth United States Infantry—afterwards General—who was lost on the ill-fated steamship " Brother Jonathan," which foundered at sea.
A notification that the "Colonel Wright " was completed, and would start up the river on a trip in April, 1859, determined the writer to be one of a party of observation. About a dozen passengers for the upper country availed themselves of the opportunity to go, and the steamer carried a cargo of about fifty tons of freight. Leaving Des Chutes in the morning of a bright, clear day, the boat's head was turned up stream, with a cheer from the few attending spectators, who had assembled to witness the departure. There was present but one dissenter to the general hilarity prevalent—the Honorable Victor Trevitt,the late well-known and much-lamented "Vic," the keeper of a toll-bridge across the Des Chutes River, whose business would be very seriously affected by the success of the boat. He created a sensation by offering to bet five hundred dollars that the boat would never make the trip. Luckily for him, his banter was not accepted. He displayed his usual sagacity and foresight, however, by disposing the next day of his bridge property, even before he knew of the result of the trip.
After we started, a mile or two showed some defect in the steering gear, to remedy which a stoppage of an hour was made at anchor, after which the voyage was resumed.
On board, the spirit was generally cheerful. The owners of the boat were there, carefully watching the outcome of their enterprise, and were hopeful thereof. The captain was confident and buoyant, as in his shirt sleeves, in the pilot house, he manipulated the wheel, not neglecting, however, any opportunity to get up an argument in favor of the advantages of phonetic spelling his pet theory—whenever he could find a listener, even in the most dangerous places on the river. The steward was a model of accommodation. Our fellow passengers were generally acquaintances and congenial; and everything being new and neat and clean, I made up my mind for an enjoyable trip.
The Columbia, from Des Chutes to Priest's
