Long ago, I was an officer in the Coast Guard, stationed on the Mississippi; these types of kids would occasionally make it a down the river to us in Baton Rouge.
Usually they ended (or really, only got started, like this) up mostly drifting down, because gas costs money and diesel is the only thing available on the river, and then only at terminals that are physically and culturally intimidating to the driftboat crowd.
Most of the time, if they made it as far as BR, they were able to formulate and execute plans with a reasonable degree of linearity, as there was a lot of river upstream to weed out the reckless and feckless.
However, once they got to Baton Rouge they were in for changing conditions. The Huey Long Bridge is the farthest upstream that oceangoing vessels can navigate on the Mississippi, and from there down the river becomes very busy with large marine vessels, barges, towboats, and service boats that keep the bulk materials industries moving. Hundreds of industrial terminals, and daily passage of multi-hundred foot vessels.
Travel for a homemade vessel, especially overnight, could easily be fatal.
We'd hear reports from rivermen on the radio that one of these things had made it down, and we'd go out to try to meet them. We'd inspect the vessel to make sure it was legal; if it wasn't we'd show them off the river and give them a ride to town to await whoever might come for them. If it was in legal order, we'd warn them about river conditions.
Interestingly, of the handful of these folks that made it down to us each year, our warning would usually suffice to have them moor up and call it a trip - they had started to notice the changing character of the river and decided the next couple hundred miles of dodging 1000ft barge tows and currents that could swallow a small boat would not be fun.
Only a few were both legal and chose to carry on. I never heard anything from New Orleans about them; I hope they made it to the City and spent the rest of their pennies on celebrating in the Quarter and sharing stories. They certainly earned it.
> However, once they got to Baton Rouge they were in for changing conditions. The Huey Long Bridge is the farthest upstream that oceangoing vessels can navigate on the Mississippi, and from there down the river becomes very busy with large marine vessels, barges, towboats, and service boats that keep the bulk materials industries moving. Hundreds of industrial terminals, and daily passage of multi-hundred foot vessels.
This, versus the downthread comments arguing about romanticism, rather illustrates the "we live in a society" point. A small boat trip down a quiet river is very romantic. See the popularity of British "narrowboats", for example. (https://narrowboats.uk/) But the fantasy does depend on doing that somewhere quiet, to a suitable scale, and not letting it become someone else's problem. The Mississippi is not a small quiet place. And rules about seaworthiness exist for reasons. It's rather like building a horse-drawn gypsy caravan and then taking it on a busy freeway.
I was with them until I read that they voluntarily floated out without a motor and had to safety equipment. There's just no excuse for this. You can get nasty old (but viable) class-2 PFDs for free almost anywhere.
What happens when they run into another boat? Or the river currents throw them into the rocks and an expensive rescue operation needs to be mounted?
Worth pointing out Grimes and this fella were emulating/riding the coattails of the Miss Rockaway Armada who’d been doing their thing for a few years at that point [0].
Yes, the idea of floating a “junk” raft is undoubtedly bitten from a much more interesting artist, Swoon, who had done it the previous year.
Here’s a video about the artist from around that time, including one of the raft projects. https://youtu.be/h9rTmTFMYH0
I happened to see one of these rafts being constructed. They may look like junk on the top, but that is just Swoon’s art style, a 3d collage of different materials. The raft platforms themselves were prototyped and tested. I am not a boating person so I don’t know how safe they really wore, but they were far more solid than you would expect from their outward appearance.
The whole thing was still a mad adventure though, one of my favorite art projects of the decade.
I also stopped being able to read articles on archive.is about a week ago because of this captcha loop. It seems to be related to my device and browser - my Firefox gets hit with the captcha loop, but Chrome on the same machine loads the article fine, and DuckDuckGo Privacy Browser also loads the page on my phone.
Off topic but why is there a blatant conjugation mistake in the title of the article? Is this common? Is it some other cultural reference I'm not aware of? Is it AAVE? (I'm not a native English speaker).
It is intended as a cultural and literary reference. As an american english speaker I would say it's a play on the phrase "That dog don't hunt" meaning something will not work. I would consider this to be a 'country' saying not AAVE but I'm not a linguist. More broadly the title mirrors a southern american dialect structure of "[This|that] X don't Y". The article calls it a "Huck Finn style adventure" Huck Finn being the protagonist of famous Mark Twain novels that are famously written with dialogue in AAVE and other southern American dialect.
I think in this specific case, it was written this way both to allude to the slanginess of Huck Finn, and because it sounds good due to "boat don't float" rhyming. To me, it has a similar pleasant-sounding impact as alliteration.
It's a southern US dialect. Yes, it's common in this region for spoken language, but it's uncommon to have it be published (it's almost always an attempt to set the piece as a view into lower class, southern lifestyles).
Probably more of a general Southern dialect thing than AAVE, but definitely intentional either way. Maybe a reference to Huckleberry Finn but I'm not well-read enough to know.
I it sounds more pleasant (IMO) to say "this boat don't float" than "this boat doesn't float".
I could easily see someone in the US saying "this boat don't float", and believing they were being witty, or even just thinking it was the right way to say it.
As a native Texan with a love of language and linguistics, I'm really enjoying all the comments in response to your question. Just so you know, there are lots of search results for that phrase outside of that article, including one as far away as Australia:
An ancient method of keeping a raft manoeuvrable is to draw a chain that touches the ground in order to move slower than the water, and using a huge double rudder. The raft can then be moved to one shore ore the other like a cable ferry. As a bonus, with a long chain that can be pulled in or let out partially, you get variable delta v.
Another possibility, since they were two people, would be oars on the stern and bow of the vessel which allow to move orthogonally to the river flow.
Claire Boucher, better known as Grimes and Elon Musk’s ex wife.
Some friends of mine built canoes to paddle down the Mississippi River that summer, and encountered these two. My friends said they were in way over their head on the river and were quite mean.
Skipping forward a little bit (2009->2012), she was making waves as a musician; so much so that she was performing at SXSW, and being interview by Nardwuar:
Wow. This is much more interesting than the original article. What a postscript. Goes from driftboat disaster to being with the Richest Man In The World(tm).
Sounds more reckless than anything. What happens when the boat sinks and they have no raft or life vests? What happens when they can’t avoid other traffic because their engine doesn’t work? What about the chickens that were sent to the slaughter because of their carelessness?
> What about the chickens that were sent to the slaughter because of their carelessness?
I might be with you on all the other points, but that is kind of the story of almost all chicken's life. In fact what do you think would have happened with the chicken if they are not reckless?
The world is a little too safe. Part of hacking is using things in ways "incompatible with their labeling". Sure, they took on some risks, but so what? They didn't hurt others, except I suppose the chickens. They are their risks to take. Do you disapprove of people who hotrod chainsaws?
Read the comment by the coast guard officer. They didn't appear to be particularly upset by activities like this.
Exception: if you are an animal rights activist I can understand your objection (you specifically mentioned the chooks).
It wouldn’t bother me if they were the only ones taking a risk. But that’s not the case, people will have to come bail them out when something goes wrong, risking their own safety because these two couldn’t be bothered to observe safety rules, and whatever boat they would collide into being unable to control theirs would also be impacted (safety, financially for repairs)
I’m all for hacking, experimenting etc. Not when it comes as the expense of others or animals.
I eat animals so don’t share that concern, but respect it.
I don’t think the burden of this behavior is a waste of my tax money. Yes, it irritates me when people go into the wilderness unprepared but I’m glad when they are rescued. This is similar; the failure modes imposed upon third parties are pretty minimal and we see from the post by he coast guard officer it’s no big deal.
Another parallel is seatbelts: we all should wear them but the first responders should still help motorists who don’t.
I would not say the same thing if someone were doing home biohacking and didn’t dispose of their bio and chemical waste properly. That has a large and asymmetric impact on third parties.
If it makes you feel better, they probably weren't sent to slaughter. My wife runs a horse rescue; it's typical for the farm that animals in this predicament are sent to to be some kind of rescue or sanctuary facility.
If you really don't think hacker culture can be life-and-death, consider the case of Aaron Swartz.
Most hackers I'd consider quintessential hackers don't have names for, because anonymity/pseudonymity is a big part of hacker culture as it originated.
Now, I'm not here to gatekeep (as you are) and I'm not here to fight back against the trend of every mildly-nerdy intellectual pursuit being lumped into "hacking"--if it makes you feel good, feel free to call yourself a hacker. But if we're coming up with examples of hackers, I'd definitely call using a houseboat to travel more hacker-y than tinkering with model trains. What is a model train enthusiast repurposing for their own goals, exactly?
I guess any culture could be life-and-death then, including knitting, if you take into account suicide.
It seems like you have a bone to pick since you are claiming things about me that aren't true, and I don't care to waste my time with that. Whether you reply or not, I won't reply again.
> I guess any culture could be life-and-death then, including knitting, if you take into account suicide.
You realize there's a reason he committed suicide, right? People don't start knitting, face the prospect of spending the rest of their lives in prison for knitting, and then go, "I don't see any way out" and kill themselves.
This is such an insensitive and dishonest argument you're making.
> It seems like you have a bone to pick since you are claiming things about me that aren't true,
I have made exactly one claim about you: you're gatekeeping what it means to be a hacker. You said: "That couple sounds reckless, dangerous, and without regard to the consequences of their actions. Not exactly people I would picture as hackers." That's pretty clear.
If you don't like your behavior being accurately described, behave better?
> I don't care to waste my time with that. Whether you reply or not, I won't reply again.
You're better than being called a gatekeeper, but you're not better than announcing your exit, eh?
You can get annoyed by incompetence and lack of determination. Sitting here in your day-to-day job where your frame of reference revolves exactly around that.
But try removing that from you head for a little while and picture these young couple doing something different and living life. Hurting noone.
It's classic Mme Bovary syndrome. The inability to separate the concept of romance (e.g. burning devotion) from the tangible thing of romance (e.g. rendez-vous with a lover in a big city hotel). Like here, the real romance in Huckleberry Finn is something effuse related to prepubescent adventure, not its implementation of floating down a raft on the Mississippi.
The "brand" of the aspiration supplants the actual aspiration, eventually it becomes identical to it. It's hard to avoid the trap, especially for young people, growing up in an environment where everything is branded.
I read that more as a snide remark from the author. Floating down a raft on the Mississippi, specifically this, is what Huckleberry Finn cemented in the collective consciousness. Why not a kayak? Why not not another river? The brand (raft, mississippi) is so strong that people who have not read the book, are saturated with the idea nonetheless. 99% have not read the book, but most of us can so easily conjure up the image.
Usually they ended (or really, only got started, like this) up mostly drifting down, because gas costs money and diesel is the only thing available on the river, and then only at terminals that are physically and culturally intimidating to the driftboat crowd.
Most of the time, if they made it as far as BR, they were able to formulate and execute plans with a reasonable degree of linearity, as there was a lot of river upstream to weed out the reckless and feckless.
However, once they got to Baton Rouge they were in for changing conditions. The Huey Long Bridge is the farthest upstream that oceangoing vessels can navigate on the Mississippi, and from there down the river becomes very busy with large marine vessels, barges, towboats, and service boats that keep the bulk materials industries moving. Hundreds of industrial terminals, and daily passage of multi-hundred foot vessels.
Travel for a homemade vessel, especially overnight, could easily be fatal.
We'd hear reports from rivermen on the radio that one of these things had made it down, and we'd go out to try to meet them. We'd inspect the vessel to make sure it was legal; if it wasn't we'd show them off the river and give them a ride to town to await whoever might come for them. If it was in legal order, we'd warn them about river conditions.
Interestingly, of the handful of these folks that made it down to us each year, our warning would usually suffice to have them moor up and call it a trip - they had started to notice the changing character of the river and decided the next couple hundred miles of dodging 1000ft barge tows and currents that could swallow a small boat would not be fun.
Only a few were both legal and chose to carry on. I never heard anything from New Orleans about them; I hope they made it to the City and spent the rest of their pennies on celebrating in the Quarter and sharing stories. They certainly earned it.