Waltzing Matilda Almost Across Arkansas; the Story of Goat Island

December 11, 2009

It’s been nearly three weeks and Nathan has sailed almost all the way across Arkansas. He’s docked at a nice state park fourteen miles from the Mississippi River. Today had been a difficult day, he said, but the end of the day made it worthwhile.

Nathan diverted from the Arkansas River into a canal that eventually goes into the White River that empties into the Mississippi. Previously Nathan had docked at a place he described as some guy’s “whole little kingdom.” The man had a bar and grill and a motel right on the waterfront. Also there was a place the local good ol’ boys had named “Goat Island.” More on that later.

Nathan docked because barges were lined up to get into the canal and he needed to wait for them to disperse. As he got to know the proprietor of the “little kingdom,” the man offered Nathan the use of his car to drive a mile down the road to get provisions. “Sure, go ahead,” the guy said. “The insurance papers are right there on the seat.” “Really?” Nathan said. “You’re just going to let me borrow your car?” “Yeah,” the proprietor replied, "I figure you have my car but I have your boat.” So off Nathan went. One of the purchases he’s had to make this week was a new alternator since the British one that came with Waltzing Matilda had gotten finicky and wouldn’t charge the three batteries well.

While at the kingdom, Nathan learned the story of Goat Island. Seems some of the local good ol’ boys thought it would be a good idea to put a dozen goats on a little nearby island. That way they could sit and drink beer and be entertained just watching the goats. Out in the river the goats would be safe from the dogs and the river wouldn’t hurt them since it didn’t flood that high. Wrong. Two weeks after the goats were put on the island, the river flooded and the good ol’ boys had to go out in their duck boats and rescue the goats. When they got them ashore they couldn’t just leave them loose because the dogs would get them and they didn’t want to build a pen for them. So they found another way to confine the goats and keep them safe from the dogs: they put the goats on the roof of the motel. But that caused a problem because when a car would drive up to the motel the goats would jump off the motel roof onto the car. Eventually the flood subsided and the goats were back on the island. Two weeks later: another flood. So the good ol’ boys rescued the goats again and this time instead of on the motel they put them on the roof of the bar. But when a car got too close to the bar, the goats would jump off the roof onto the car. When the flood subsided, the goats went back to the island. Then the river flooded the island a third time.

This time the good ol’ boys had a different solution.

They had a goat roast.

True story? Don’t know, but Paul Greenberg, the Pulitzer prize-winning editorial page editor of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette says local editors are blessed. While editors in other places punch up stories to make them interesting, in Arkansas and Louisiana editors have to tone them down to make them believable.

Showing his appreciation to the proprietor of the kingdom by buying lunch and beer, Nathan then set off downstream about a mile to a park where he met the kingdom proprietor’s evil twin. Stopping to get some water, Nathan was informed by an 80-year-old park caretaker that it would be $5 dollars to buy water! Nathan was incensed and eventually the old man waived the fee. Nathan then spent several hours at the park doing repairs on his diesel engine before resuming his trip downstream.

At the end of the day he sailed into lily pads covering the water in the canal. Also there were cat-o-nine tails growing. Pelicans and swans graced the flat lowlands where he was at. Eventually he docked at a beautiful state park.

“It was the end of long day,” Nathan said. “During the last ten minutes all this beauty made it totally worth it.”