Mile 377.5 RBD — Waterproof Island

Waterproof Island is two giant islands, each several thousand acres big, that have formed like twins, one hugging the other, parallel to the main channel of the river.  Each Island is long and narrow, so long that you’ll think it’s just part of the right bank descending as you paddle down along it, and so narrow that you can see light through forests towards their bottom ends where they slice the river downstream like a razor-sharp knife.  Paddlers in the Natchez area refer to them as Upper Waterproof and Lower Waterproof, so the Rivergator will do the same.

You will find dry sand at all water levels up to flood stage on the top end of Upper Waterproof, although it will be best for camping at bank full or higher (above 40NG) when you can get in close to the vegetation.  If sand is what you want, camp anywhere around the top end in low or medium water levels.  For privacy, or to get away from the monotonous drone of the never-ending parade of tow traffic, go backside for a more limited but still ample selection of picnic and campsites.  Back channel opens below the 3rd big dike around 15NG in shallow “feathery” channels that bump over the sandy shoals.  If there’s water going in and you’re not in any particular hurry, go for it.  The riverman’s rule is flowing in: flowing out (which holds true 99% of the time.  (Go to Rodney Lake back channel for the 1% time this might not hold true!).

Meanwhile, the back channel of Lower Waterproof doesn’t open until the river is significantly higher, until around 25NG, and is only accessible through the back channel of Upper Waterproof.  If the river is high and you are already back behind Upper, paddling down the back channel, by all means turn right into the opening where the Lower Chute opens up.  If there is water flowing in you are good to go.  Enter with the flow and enjoy the endless stream of birds, trees and happily bubbling, boiling and babbling waters.  The waters are seem happier flowing down the back channel.  You are protected here from all winds unless it’s blowing from the due south.  Stop paddling along the way and just float along enjoying the mesmerizing patterns on the water and the vitality of life surrounding your passage.  In the summer it can be hot and lazy, but a quick swim will freshen things up.  In the winter the skeletal forests are silhouetted by the sky, and the winter birds can be heard foraging, and occasional squirrels and possums.

Lower Waterproof has one beautiful sandbar on the main channel side towards its bottom end (open to the big river).  Marked on the USACE maps as L’Argents Landing, this bar is best between 20 and 30NG.  Below 20 it gets muddy, and above 30 there’s no more sand.  Very little remains dry on Lower above bank full, and at flood stage the entire island is a flooded forest.  This does not mean you should not visit, for there is nothing more heavenly than paddling through the creator’s own river cathedral created within the trunks of a flooded willow forest.  If the spirit hovers anywhere over the waters on the seventh day, you will surely find God here amongst the murmuring waters and sighing willows as the muddy water whispers through the wet tree trunks, catfish swirling their tails underneath and parachute spiders and water skeeters skipping overhead, and during their season mayflies crowding every twig and leaf like the angel choir, their forearms held together in prayer, their flight a dizzying dance that must surely please the maker.

During the flood year of 2003 I camped at the top end of Waterproof with my bachelor party which consisted of my brothers Ernie and Frank, step-father Daddy Gare-Bear, nephew Ian, and friends Dean Lambert, Sean Rowe and “Big Muddy” Mike Clark.  Several dozen acres was all that remained dry on Waterproof.  The mosquitoes were out in droves, newly hatched, and all concentrated over the remaining dry ground.  Boy were they glad to see us!  As Lewis & Clark so often quoted: “very troublesome.”  None of us had tents, we didn’t think we’d need them.  My oldest brother Frank, ever the innovator, came up with a unique solution.  It was a chilly night, so sleeping bags covered most exposed skin.  But what about the head?  Frank went to sleep with his baseball cap on, over which he draped a pieces of gauze from the 1st aid kit, folded together like cheesecloth.  While the rest of us tossed and turned, swatting those busy buzzing bombers all night long, and awoke the next morning in a less than rested state of mind.  Meanwhile brother Frank arose the next morning refreshed and chipper as a young squirrel.  In fact, he slept so good we all woke up before him and we watched as the river rose higher and higher.  Pretty soon the patch of ground he had laid his head on was an island.  We debated whether to leave him there in his peaceful slumber that none of us shared.  “We’ll let the river wake him up,” we quipped out of jealousy of his sound slumber.  Eventually our good will got the best of us, and I sent Daddy Gare Bear over to wake him up.

Once past Spithead and the Farmer’s Grain Elevator, follow Waterproof  through Ashland Bend past Cole’s Creek towards Hole in the Wall.  When you get to the bottom end of the Island the ten mile stretch of straight water down to Natchez opens up in front of you in a solid wall of blue-green haze.