Cave in the Wall

Cave in the Wall has fed the imagination since the 1700s. River rowdy’s and pirates would gather there to plunder innocent passersby, and probably drink lots of whisky at the same time. The original party spot of the Ohio.

Wabash Island

Mile 851

Lonnie Lewis, ferryman, farmer

Downriver at Cave In The Wall I stopped for breakfast at Rose’s Kountry Kitchen. A ferry crosses the river here. No fare to cross. The states pay. Lacking a better choice, I tied up to a nest of small towboats which had a derelict appearance. They had to be part of the ferry operation, which use a tow to guide a ferry barge. Knowing that the ferryman would see me, it was either going to be okay or not. It was not. The ferry owner showed up before I hit the shore. I couldn’t stay there, by policy. So we stood and visited. He talked with the authority of a man who had lived here all of his 78 years. He is both ferryman and farmer. I will remember him as the Grand Old Man of the river.

Here’s something he told me. The prop wash behind a towboat is full of air bubbles. He said water with air in it doesn’t support like regular water. I heavily laden boat, or swimmer, will sink in it.

As you’d expect from someone who spent his years in the bright sun of river and field, his eyes were small blue triangles. He believes in the value of hard work, but didn’t lose his sense of humor. 

I told him it was worth parking illegally on his boat just to have chance to talk to him.