Paradise was hell to get to

In the April 15, 1880, edition of the Louisiana Sugar Bowl newspaper, an unidentified writer describes a trip to “the Attakapas country, ‘The Paradise of Louisiana,’ as it is deservedly styled,” which apparently was taken some years before, when travel was pretty precarious.
The writer said the best way to make the trip in those early days was to find a guide who knew the ins and outs of riding a rickety steamboat through rough terrain and wicked waters. Judge L. Simon was “our Moses,” as the writer described the guide for this trip.
“[When] we were ready to take our departure,” the account began, “[we] engaged passage on Captain David H. Muggah’s boat, the St. Mary, which plied regularly between New Orleans and St. Martinville. At 3 o’clock p.m. the captain rang the bell for us to leave and in a few minutes we were off on our journey.”
The ride was pleasant enough as the boat moved up the Mississippi River from New Orleans to Bayou Plaquemine in Iberville Parish, but things got a little hairy when the St. Mary abandoned the big river for a “narrow passage through which the boat had to make her way, barricaded with logs and brush.” It was not very helpful that on an island at the entrance to the bayou “stood a tall cross, which probably marked the graves of other rash adventurers who had ... attempted passage.”
It looked impossible to navigate through the logs and stumps, but “an experienced and worthy” steersman, identified in 1880 as “the late and lamented E. Castello,” was at the helm. He “sent her through the narrow channel and landed her safely back of town” to pick up passengers “who had not chosen to take the risk of making the hazardous run through the chute.”
When those passengers got back aboard they were still a bit disconcerted, since the boat had somehow got itself turned around and was pointing in the wrong direction.
It was “allowed to drift ... stern foremost, and [was] so rapidly carried along that she would have been dashed to pieces, only that the [paddle] wheels were used to counteract the swiftness of the current,” according to the account.
The St. Mary continued to rush backward until it reached “an ugly looking place” called The Devil’s Elbow, where “even the boat must have sickened at the sight of it, for she ... wheeled about, as if disgusted, and proceeded on her journey,” finally with the bow headed in the right direction.
Thereafter, despite stumps and snags and various other hidden menaces, “the good St. Mary held her course – never deviated, but went right along notwithstanding the snares.” From time to time the passengers felt “a terrible shock” as the boat banged into something. At such times, they would “be made to shiver all over, [and] every passenger would study the firmness of his companion’s character.” Some of the passengers whistled; some exclaimed, “whoop-la.” The ladies screamed.
The venerable judge who was our writer’s guide “never forgot to use his fan freely, kept himself cool, advised others to do the same, and fear no evil.”
There was still plenty for the uninitiated to fear as the boat passed through the Atchafalaya wilderness, “frightening away alligators,” as it steamed ahead. But finally they reached the lower Teche, the entrance to the Paradise, “and then you should have heard the good St. Mary snort. Plenty of water, good fuel, and happy souls. ... It seemed that she was the fastest boat that we were ever on.”
Adding to the serenity, this is when the captain broke out the best of his vittles, setting a table “equal to any of the most pretentious [boats] on the Mississippi.”
Even then, pretty places and good food made the Teche country a Paradise worth taking a risk to visit.

You can contact Jim Bradshaw at jhbradshaw@bellsouth.net or P.O. Box 1121, Washington LA 70589.