New Challenges below Baton Rouge

John Ruskey

20 Apr 2026 � 47 min read

New Challenges below Baton Rouge

Intro: Just when you thought you’ve learned everything there is to know about the Mississippi, you return to the river at Baton Rouge and find that the conditions have changed and the river is throwing bizarre new challenges at you -- such as skyscraper-sized freighters steaming up the main channel making the biggest and most chaotic waves you’ve ever seen! You’ll experience mini-tsunamis rolling in and out of your campsite with alarming changes in water level. Your friends, the towboats you have been paddling with since Minneapolis (or Sioux City), are now joined by real honest-to-God ocean-going tugboats serving the needs of freighters. The endless lines of trees and muddy banks you enjoyed upstream are here replaced by endless miles of fleeted barges and refinery pipelines and power plant smokestacks. Wind direction becomes a concern at camp when you wonder what petrochemical plant might be sending foul carbonaceous (or worse) aromas your way throughout your sleep.

Okay, so you’ve successfully paddled two thousand miles from Lake Itasca, or maybe four thousand miles from Three Forks, Montana. The river has gently taught you its ways as you’ve proceeded downstream. We call this education “the greater school of river-rats” or BRU -- the Big River University!

BRU opened up its doors to you with the lighthearted lessons of the headwaters: braided channels, open lake crossings, portaging over dams, eddies, and some swift water. Later you graduated to paddling with tows (Minneapolis), and safe paddling through locks & dams. Still later you advanced a degree when you learned to paddle through big industry with bigger tows (St. Louis). Then you reached the mouth of the Ohio. Here you begin your specialized advanced degree in Big River Navigation at BRU where the river swells to its fullness with the biggest tows ever seen on the face of the earth. Bigger whirlpools, giant eddies, and the biggest boils you’ve ever paddled through, some tending towards aquatic violence on their edges. BRU on the Lower Miss requires long hours of paddling, concentration, and quick decisions. Everything you’ve learned up to this point must be accessed and utilized: you must be able to read the river like the steamboat pilot training Mark Twain received under his mentor, the volcanic Captain Bixby (as related in his 1883 Life on the Mississippi). On the Lower Mississippi you need to apply all your river abilities to read to this monster mile-wide river swelling to its natural fullness and flexing all of its muscly challenges. And now 600 miles later downstream you have advanced to this last advanced stage of BRU as you have mastered paddling with those behemoths, and have made good navigation choices on the big volume waters. What else could you possibly need to learn to graduate (ie: safely paddle to the Gulf)?

Well, here below Baton Rouge is your entrance into the graduate program of the BRU -- the Big River University. The river always has the last say and always keeps a few tricks hidden under her muddy waters! As you continue past the capitol city of Louisiana you will now have several new big river paradigms to adjust the body of your river knowledge to, namely 1) freighters, 2) endless miles of fleeted barges and anchored freighters, 3) no islands (below Bonnet Carre), 4) very limited campsites, and finally 5) tides. You will need to learn to paddle and camp with these new (and very significant) challenges always in the forefront of your decision making.

Welcome paddlers to “Chemical Corridor,” the last remaining and most difficult section of the Mississippi River before you reach the Gulf of Mexico!

Waves

Paddlers will have to be especially vigilant about increased wave height and unpredictability below Baton Rouge. Think of paddling along sea cliffs. This is the effect that parked barges, tows and freighters have on the waves bouncing around the main channel. Endless rip-rap add to this effect. Steel and concrete docking even more so. Gone is the dampening effect of long open beaches and soft muddy banks found above Baton Rouge. The result is the biggest and wildest waves you will see anywhere on the Mississippi River, all bouncing back and forth in unpredictable patterns, piling over one another in compound waves, and coming from all directions, some building in scale to resemble mini rogue waves. Picture a toyboat in a bathtub with a playful kid. This is how you will feel, and how you will look from the distance. The 20-mile industrial “gauntlet” below the Great Arch in St. Louis will give you a taste of what the next 230 miles has in store for you. Be careful when making landings or setting up camp. Pull your vessel high above water level, three feet above when possible. Waves from passing work boats, tugs and freighters could wash over any low places, especially within inlets or at the edge of shallows (where the wave heights and tide effects tend to multiply frighteningly).

The Gauntlet

Paddling downstream below Baton Rouge follows the classic dictionary definition for “Running The Gauntlet” (1) To go through an intimidating or dangerous crowd, place, or experience in order to reach a goal. (2) To undergo the punishment of receiving blows while running between two rows of men with sticks.

On the river you will have to paddle miles and miles of freighters, cruise ships, container ships, tugboats, towboats, workboats, wharves, docks, buoys, anchors, steel cables, choppy waves, weird currents, and many other challenges which might be exacerbated by wind, darkness and your state of mind. The waves slap you from side to side as they ricochet back and forth between passing tows and fleeted barges. Hard steel edges make for bigger choppier waves. Concrete docks and bank stabilization the same. You, the lonely paddler amidst the industrial megalith, must do your best to stay upright amongst the waves. The goal is of course the Gulf of Mexico, the open salty waters below the Mississippi River Delta.

When to stay on shore

As always, impatience is your worst enemy on the river. Stay on shore and await a change in the weather if any of the following conditions apply: (a) If the wind is blowing 15mph or higher from any southerly or easterly quadrants, or 20mph or higher from any other quadrant; (b) if you have three hours or less before sunset; or (c) if you are not feeling good about things (sailor’s sixth sense). Don’t allow complicating factors to get in the way of safe travel and making good decisions. Get a good night’s sleep and enjoy a full breakfast before departure. Inspect your vessel to be sure it’s in top shape and will not surprise you with any compromises in the middle of the river. Make sure you are in good communication with everyone in your party. Settle any differences. Do not let any grievances leave shore. You need to be in your best shape possible, physically, mentally and spiritually, to safely navigate what lies below you downstream in Chemical Corridor.

When to stay on shore

Stepping Stones of Wilderness

The first time you paddle Chemical Corridor you might easily be overwhelmed by the vast profusion of industry, day in and day out for 2 weeks of paddling, so much so that the refineries and granaries and power plants and scrap steel and dry bulk docks and anchored freighters and fleeted barges all become a blur highlighted by the one or two peaceful places, and maybe a quick stop to the St. Louis Cathedral or Cafe Du Monde in the French Quarter. If you can, dear paddler, slow down a little and take your time both preparing for this stretch of river and for the actual paddling of it. As with many places along the Lower Mississippi, the more you focus on the little details surrounding you, the more you see, and the more you appreciate the experience. You will find that the industry comes and goes, and is broken by some sparkling pockets of woods and sandbars in between that taken together become a series of stepping stones of wild places that you can find and make use of to ease the pain of the paddling, and the confusion of modern industrial America.

Green Spaces

Even though you are paddling into Chemical Corridor, home to over 200 petrochemical plants in 135 miles of river, producing 25% of America’s chemicals, the intense industry is broken by pristine sandbars, islands, forests, and other places of great beauty. One of the primary goals of the Rivergator to identify these places and describe them for you to help make your journey as comfortable and enjoyable as possible. These places seem all the more special because of their location within the chaos of the petrochem industry. The largest of these wild refuges we are calling “Green Spaces.” Each will receive lengthy descriptions to help you access and appreciate. The first of these Green Spaces is not far downstream of Baton Rouge at wild Manchac Point.

Green Spaces are green places interconnected by the river. Green Spaces are modest acreages of wetlands, woods or islands. They might not have great value when considered in isolation. But connected by the river to other Green Spaces they create substantially larger spaces of green, which means cleaner drinking water and better water levels for navigation and industry. These green connections are of great value to the wildlife and overall health of the ecosystem. Green connections multiply life-saving factors such as migration, procreation and food, the sum of which is much greater than the parts. This ultimately results in a healthier river. We need to recognize and protect these Green Spaces because they help bring better and cleaner drinking water to New Orleans, and all communities below Baton Rouge. More Green spaces means better water levels, which means more productive industry, which results in more jobs. Green Spaces are win-win-win! River, humans, wildlife. We all win. These Green Spaces can be clearly seen on Google Earth.

The Baton Rouge stretch you are now paddling is just a little taste of some busy-ness before the the big busy-ness to follow. But also pockets of wilderness. Chemical Corridor is a great education and should be looked upon as such. What you see here in microcosm explains the entirety of Louisiana's Chemical Corridor and the vast inland port of Greater New Orleans -- and the river's connection to the world market. This will make a well-rounded tour for the long-distance paddler setting out from Baton Rouge down the Water Trail. You get the opportunity to experience a little industry and a lot of nature. The river is both commerce and wilds. It has always been this way since the Athabaskans first migrated across the Bering Straight and then South out of Canada and began ferrying goods along the plentiful river valleys in hollowed logs. They were of course later followed by their descendants the Chickasaw, Choctaw, Quapaw, Natchez, and many others in dugout canoes, hide-covered canoes and bark canoes. The Mississippi is and has always been this continent's greatest highway for commerce and simultaneously also one of its greatest wildernesses. Can the two co-exist? I firmly believe so and will describe it as so.

The story of the Mississippi and its importance to the heart of America -- and its connections to the rest of the world -- could not be understood without seeing the monuments of mankind. As the river leaves Baton Rouge you can see examples of how it cooperates with the ambitions of modern man's industry & transportation, and then how it seamlessly slips into its mighty realm of wilderness below where nature predominates.

Channel Crossings

As you study the 2007 USACE Maps of the Lower Mississippi you will notice the recommended line of travel following traditional crossings with colorful names like “Red Eye Crossing” and “Sardine Crossing” and “Bayou Goula Crossing.” Freighters and all big commercial traffic follow these traditional channel crossings over shoals between deep pools from West Bank to East Bank and vice-versa. Smaller vessels like tugboats and tows can go just about anywhere during medium or higher river levels, but at low water most will follow this traditional route for making a safe crossing to deep water. You paddlers can continue on whatever routes suits you best. To avoid traffic stay out of the crossing and continue on whatever side you’re already on. You might drift into slower water, but often in a shorter line of travel. If you stray into the channel for faster waters stay vigilant for oncoming fast-moving freighters. Monitor channel 67 if you have a VHF marine radio for an indication of what’s coming around the bend.

One of the dramatic river changes below Baton Rouge is the presence of “blind corners” -- that is: tight bends of the river. Unlike the gently curving bends you’ve enjoyed above Baton Rouge, for some aqua-dynamic reason the bends of the river below Baton Rouge often curve around a single crux point, sometimes with a 180 degree swing of direction. The river seems to eddy, and sometimes pool with giant boils at these crux points, and the normal flow of water displays strange behavior, from smooth laminar flow to massive boils and swirlings that seem to wander aimlessly about the river face, and can leave paddlers in a bit of confusion. It can be a bit un-nerving to lose all your current at one of these points. But imagine the extra fright when you lose all your current and then simultaneously you are confronted with an oncoming freighter the size of Fort Knox who has suddenly appeared downstream, seemingly hugging the bank, and you seem to be directly in its line of passage!

Downstream freighters and big tows normally follow the traditional lines of crossing, as indicated on the 2007 USACE maps, from deep within the bend, staying with the swift waters center channel, or towards one of the banks, gradually crossing over and above the shallows of one bend, and then dropping again into deeper and swifter waters as they enter the next bend downstream. Paddlers should be aware that upstream freighters and tows often stay in the slow water below the crux turning point of these blind corners as long and as far as they can find enough depth, and then jump out around the crux point blind corner at the last possible minute to plow through the faster and deeper waters beyond, and then when possible reach the slower waters towards the next blind corner upstream. This is a typical pattern for all commercial traffic, especially bigger vessels. If you are approaching any of the sharp points from above be extra cautious about the possible approach of big upstream vessels coming towards you and around these blind corners. Every corner is different, and every moment of the day brings new challenges according to traffic. Best decisions are made on the spot based on what you see in front of you, and what you hear on your radio. Normal best route is running wide and getting into the safety of the outside of the bend. Staying on the outside of these bends close to shore (closer than large commercial traffic will go) is normally your safest bet. The water on the outside of a bend tends to be flowing more swiftly than on the inside of a bend anyway so the longer distance shouldn’t affect your transit time too much.

Interpreting Horns

Commercial pilots often toot their horns to each other, as signals of which side to pass on, or in respect of each other. Modern pilots have adopted this system from steamboat pilots who used whistles in the days preceding radio communication. “One whistle” means pass on port side to port side. Two toots means starboard to starboard. While they won’t use this system for us paddlers, they might give a toot of salutation, or maybe an angry HONK! as a warning. This could happen anywhere along the river, but is especially common in the tight bends and crowded fleeting and wharfing areas of Chemical Corridor. The last thing a commercial pilot wants to encounter while maneuvering thousands of tons of freight through hazardous stretches of water is a canoe or kayak in the middle of the navigation channel. If you hear two toots in succession that means “hullo!” Raise your paddle as a return signal of respect, or even better remove your hat and give a bow (also a courtesy harkening back to the steamboat days). But if you are shook by a prolonged blaring horn (sounds like a deranged tuba player) that means the pilot thinks you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. Re-assess your line of travel and make any possible adjustments. If your vessel is again shook by prolonged screams of the air-horn, again and again, that means that this particular pilot has taken an extreme dislike to your position in the river, and thinks you (or he) is in imminent danger. This might be the time to make a beeline for the quickest safe side of the river you can see. But take a minute, dear paddler, and turn around and carefully examine the channel and what is going on before acting. Sometimes commercial pilots mis-judge what us paddlers are capable of, and react with anger, or maybe fear. Ultimately, paddlers will have to make their own best decisions about what is the best line of travel, and suffer whatever consequences come what may.

False Points and False Tips

Similar to the occurrence of a “false summit” on a big mountain, the “false point” surprises paddlers who think they have reached the turnaround point of the big bend here only to find there is more coming! This actually happens at every point along the Lower Mississippi, and furthermore around every island. You might experience the same effect paddling around the outside of some of the big islands, like Bayou Goula. If you are looking for the bottom of Bayou Goula, and paddle around its outer perimeter you will pass by a number of false points searching for the tip of the island. Everything is so big, and so over-blown in the proportions most people are used to paddling through, that the feeling is just like the feeling you get climbing big mountains. The false point experience can have consequences on the psychology of your day’s paddle, and can cause problems in a group relying on an ignorant wayfinder. It is a common human practice for shorten distances in our imagination. This happens to me all of the time, and I have heard others experience the same.

Here is an example: you are coming around Missouri Bend, and prepare to find camp. You haven’t been able consult your maps because you inadvertently packed them away as you left Baton Rouge, but you know from your memory, or maybe from what someone told you, that good camping follows Missouri Bend on Manchac Point. That is true. But what you don’t know is how big Manchac Point is! What you know for certain is that Manchac Point is West Bank. You’re not sure exactly how far this is. But it can’t be too far, right? Little do you realize that Manchac Point is shaped like a baseball bat, and the actual point sticks out far beyond the entry into the bend, in fact about ten miles! So you plan cut through Red Eye Crossing and then follow a line of travel along the right bank below Missouri Bend to Manchac Point. You do this. You cut across Red Eye and round Missouri Bend and start looking. A point take shapes downstream. There it is! That was easy. So you think. You paddle a couple of miles and discover “that point” is in fact not Manchac, but a jog in the West Bank at the beginning of Sardine Crossing and there is another point further downstream. That must be it you think, a little less certain. You paddle there, but you find another point beyond it, another mile downstream! This time you don’t make any definite predications, but paddle on resolutely. If you have someone paddling with you, they might have stopped listening to your guesswork. Manchac gently curves eastward a long, long ways. In fact, it gently curves eastward, and then southward another six miles from Sardine Crossing! It’s not until you are well into the bend that you are physically within hailing distance of the big sandbars at Manchac Point. As you approach the turning point of the bend, the false points actually get closer and closer together, as if intent on proving Zeno’s Paradox (that is: halving every distance as you approach the final turn, so that you’ll actually never get there!) If darkness is falling, your vision gets worse and worse. You might have some dissension in your canoe, or your group. You’ll definitely have a serious self-examination. That is, if you haven’t already stopped somewhere along the way to pull out your maps. Or pulled out your smart phone and bring up Google maps. Or maybe just given up in frustration and climbed one of the steep muddy banks along the way, and set up camp in the mosquito thick woods.

Hint: save yourself this confusion and keep your maps handy!

Designated Anchorages

Freighters sometimes drop anchors and remain stationary within certain specific areas awaiting their turn to approach docks and load or unload their cargoes. Study your USACE 2007 Maps (or other versions). You will see that the “Designated Anchorages” are clearly marked with mileage top and bottom end with a large yellow diamond for signage. If you see freighters in the river downstream of you with their chains in the water, double check the maps. If you are close enough to shore you will see a yellow diamond “Anchorage Dayboard” which marks the upstream and downstream limits of the anchorage. Once you have confirmed that this is one of the designated anchorage areas on the map, you will know for certain that the freighter is indeed anchored, and if you wish, safe to paddle around, even approaching within earshot to say a quick hullo to the mates and deckhands, who are usually friendly and curious, and more often than not will snap a quick photo of you paddling by. Look for two anchor chains dropping from the two anchor holes (or "hawsepipes" in maritime parlance) in the prow of the ship. (Note: If the anchors are dropped you will see their chains extending from prow and disappearing into the water in a straight taut line). On the other hand if there are no chains out, the ship might be in motion, or might be getting ready to move. This will be further confirmed by the presence of tugboats (not towboats!) working in the area. If you see tugboats with their big bulbous black rubber noses pressed against the freighter hull, something is getting ready to move! Watch carefully for possible action, and give the anchorage wide berth.

Towboats vs. Tugboats

What is the difference between a towboat and a tugboat anyway? We have avoided this question until now in the Rivergator for one reason: above Baton Rouge only towboats are seen. But below Baton Rouge you will be paddling amongst both tows and tugs! So what’s the difference? First of all, one similarity: they both push, and normally don’t pull. Tows push barges. Big tows push big fleets of barges all cabled together with 1” steel cable and winched tight. Tugs on the other hand primarily service freighters and the big ocean-going ships (like container ships or cruise ships), usually in assistance with anchoring, docking, or disembarking. Tows have flat faces to firmly attach the flat end of barges. Meanwhile tugs have pointed noses, and v-hulls, for better maneuverability and speed on the river. Tows travel slow and methodically with rear engines doing all the work. Tugs move fast, with both powerful rear propellors but also bow thrust. Tows can make big waves, but Tugs make even bigger waves and sometimes create glistening tall wakes with rolling crashing waves that can result in capsize for smaller vessels like canoes & kayaks if you get too close. The good news for paddlers is that tug pilots are super-vigilant about smaller vessels, and will almost always slow down (or even stop) for you as you paddle past. River pilots in southern Louisiana display this courtesy almost universally, which is very much appreciated! On the other hand, the bad news is that they might not see you when they are in the middle of their work, or on a rainy day, or most frighteningly on a foggy day. Imagine paddling into a bank of fog, and then hearing approaching crashing waves coming from a tug that didn’t see you and didn’t slow down. This could be the worst scenario possible. For this reason the Rivergator recommends that you stay on shore in foggy conditions.

For more dicussion of tows and paddling around them, go to Rivergator Appendix: https://www.rivergator.org/river-log/stlouis-to-caruthersville/stl-car-appendix/pg/34/

Stay off the River in Fog

Chemical Corridor has more foggy days than any other stretch of river below St. Louis, due to the high humidity and high likelihood of temperature differences between warm Gulf airs and cold river water. Personally, my most frightening river experiences have all involved fog. I’ll share some of these harrowing stories as they come up in the Rivergator. Like Huck & Jim found out on their raft, fog can lead to disaster. You can become separated from your party, miss your landing, or worse yet run into something you didn’t see and have no time to maneuver around. The lesson is plain: stay off the river on foggy days. Fog generally is thickest around dawn. After sunrise it might linger for a while, but on most days will gradually lift. Stay at camp and enjoy the respite until you can clearly see across the river -- as well as upstream and downstream. If you can’t see the river above and the river below you will not be able to stay out of the way of freighters! We were once camped below a refinery on a foggy morning, and made a bad decision that almost ended in disaster. We could see the opposite shore quite clearly, but not upstream nor downstream. We set out thinking the fog was lifting. As we crossed over we realized our mistake: the only reason we had a clearing across the river was due to the heat rising from the refinery! The glowing refinery had carved a wedge of clear air as the fog drifted over and across the river. But as soon as we drifted downstream we left this narrow window of blue sky and the thick fog battened its hatches once more, locking us down tight in its cold grey clutches. We almost ran underneath a line of fleeted barges as result. Quickly thereafter we dove into shore in between fleets and awaited clear skies on shore with frightened thumping hearts. The clear skies returned, but our hearts kept thumping for a long time afterwards.

Jim lost his opportunity for escape from slavery when a fog descended on him and Huck as they floated into and then past the mouth of the Ohio River. Jim lost his home due to fog. But the Quapaw people gained their new home due to the same. Here’s the story: when the Sioux nations migrated westward their plan was to turn up the Mississippi River and gain entrance to the open plains to the west via the Middle Mississippi and the Missouri Rivers. When the last nation reached the Ohio River confluence a fog descended and they missed the turn and instead floated hundreds of miles downstream in their wooden dugout canoes until finding a suitable settling place to relocate at the Arkansas River confluence. Hence they became the downstream people, a literal translation of their name, the Quapaw. One of their counterpart tribes, became the Omaha, the upstream people.

Camping Below Baton Rouge

The river changes below Baton Rouge. No more giant river islands with beautiful giant beaches. Nice sandbars to easily stop and stretch your legs become greatly limited below Baton Rouge, and even more so below New Orleans. Possible campsites, picnic places, and dry spots are difficult to find, even in low water. The further downstream you go the more controlled the river becomes with rock, rip-rap, revetment, and other means of concrete control. This makes landings hazardous and necessitates lifting your vessel out of the water and over the rocks to a place of safety. Oncoming crashing waves from freighters can also make landings extremely challenging. And an entirely new factor comes into consideration: tides start exerting their influence below New Orleans. You will have to pull your vessel high above the waterline and strike your camp equally high. Freighters displace so much water the entire river level will drop as they approach, and then later rise like a mini-tsunami, accompanied by 3-4 foot waves, sometimes taller in the right conditions, which can reach far up the bankside. The Rivergator will help you locate the best places with the highest grounds, sometimes in the near vicinity of industry and sometimes near road access. Use your best common sense and internal radar to decide what’s safe, and what’s not.

Three Islands

Below Baton Rouge there are precisely three possible islands ideal for picnicking or camping, and these are the very last three islands of the Lower Mississippi! Each is colorfully named, and individually endowed with special properties and attributes. They are Plaquemine Island, Bayou Goula Island, and Bonnet Carre Island. All of these are described in great detail where they come up downstream in chronological order in the River-Log of the Rivergator: Paddler’s Guide to the Lower Mississippi River.

Best Sandbars found below the biggest Points on inside of Big Bends

In general, the best sandbars will be found on the places along the inside of the tightest bends or jogs of the river (Note: usually the best sand is found thrown against the bank just a little downstream of the midpoint of the inside of the bend). The best sandbars included in these bends are Manchac Point (214.5 RBD), Plaquemine Point (209 LBD), Point Clair (194 LBD), Eighty-One Mile Point (178 LBD), Bringier Point (172.5 LBD), Point Houmas (172 RBD), Zen-Noh Point (165 LBD), College Point (156 LBD), Paulina (149 LBD), Fifty Mile Point (144 RBD), Forty-Eight Mile Point/Belle Point (143LBD), Bonnet Carre Point (133RBD), Thirty-Five Mile Point (130LBD), Twenty-Six Mile Point (124.5 LBD), Twelve Mile Point (110-109 LBD), Nine-Mile Point (104 RBD), Algiers Point (94.5 RBD), Poydras Point (85.5 RBD), Twelve Mile Point (81 RBD), Shingle Point (78 LBD), Will’s Point (68 LBD), Poverty Point (60 LBD - difficult shallow bank), Point Celeste (51.5 RBD - muddy), Pointe a la Hache (44.5 LBD - Bohemia Beach), Sixty Mile Point (33 RBD), Point Pleasant (31-28 LBD), Bolivar Point (22 LBD - cattle ranch), and Fort Jackson (19.5-18.5 RBD). Unfortunately for paddlers, many of these ideal sandbars have been pirated by sand and dirt removal operations with bulldozers, track hoes and back hoes. Rivergator will recommend which to camp on and which to avoid. Point Pleasant is especially rich in possibilities, if the water is not too high. Below Point Pleasant paddlers will find several miles of contiguous sites conducive to good camping along the East Bank (LBD) between miles 31 and 28. Stay as near to the Point as you can to keep distance between your camp and possible noise and air pollution erupting from the sprawling 2-mile long petrochemical complex at the Chevron Refinery (downstream 27-25 LBD). Go to entries for these locations further on into the Rivergator for more details about Point Pleasant and all the other points mentioned above.

A couple of unusual sandbars along outside edge of the Bends

Paddlers will discover a few surprising places on the outside of some of the bends where for some reason the river has mounded up high piles of sand on the opposite side from where sand is usually found, strewn around the long circumference of the outside of the bend. Several of these are high enough to be dry at low and medium water levels. Examples of these odd outside bend locations include Romeville Dune (162LBD), Willow Bend (142RBD), Killona Landing (130RBD), Dufresne (123RBD), Kenner (11.5LBD), and lastly at a very notable location next to the New Orleans Water Intake, and the “Batture Houses” which are both found along the outside edge of Carrolton Bend 104-105LBD. There is another very skinny bar in an odd place -- below the old power house at 97LBD. And finally, there are a few skinny sandbars strewn along the outside edge of Algiers Bend (LBD 94-93) below the French Quarter.

Camping at the Bonnet Carre Spillway

Even though there is grassy high ground and a mile-wide opening with no industry at the mouth of the Spillway (in low water), there is no camping allowed at the USACE-maintained Bonnet Carre Spillway. But with some advance planning you could possibly gain permission by calling or writing to the project manager on site. If you do not ask permission and make an illegal camp you might be chased off in the middle of the night by the St. Charles Parish Sheriff Dept, or worse be rudely awaken by the revelry & mayhem of infrequent 4WD midnight trouble-makers. Go on to Rivergator entry for the Bonnet Carre Spillway for more information.

Camping at the mouths of the Passes and other Gulf Outlets

Great campsites on high ground can be located at the mouths of some of the the Passes and other Gulf Outlets, below Poverty Point mile 60. You will discover cleared places perched above the water on muddy shelves that are sometimes freshly covered with sand but more often with hardened mud -- and covered with grasses and backed by thick vegetation. At low water you will find these mouths protected by lines of rip rap with breaks in the rock that allow water flow - and paddlers - to pass through. Pick your entrance through the deepest opening and enter the protected waters behind. These unintentional man-made harbors are a rare luxury after dramatic experiences with crashing waves along the otherwise unprotected shores and beaches. The first such possibility is found at Mardi Gras Pass, but watch out for large changes of water level along this stretch of river. (Note: The big container ships might cause a two foot change, with waves reaching three feet or higher. If your campsite is not over three feet above high tide you had better look elsewhere for better protection! Other possible campsites at the mouths of passes include but are no means limited to: Ostrica Pass (24.5 LBD -- controlled by Lock & Dam), Neptune Pass (three openings between 24-23 LBD), Harvey Pass (20 LBD), St. Phillip’s Bend Pass (20 LBD), St. Anne’s Pass (18 LBD), Olga Pass (three openings near Olga Light 16 LBD), Un-Named Pass at 15.5 LBD, Un-Named Pass at 14.5 LBD, Un-Named Pass at 12.5 LBD, and the mouth of Baptiste Collette Bayou (11.5 LBD). A new Pass opened in 2011 West Bank RBD mile 5 with a beautiful sandy bar and nearby cypress trees (south side of the entrance).

Cubit’s Gap/Main Pass Camp

A wooded high ground is found in Cubit’s Gap at the mouth of Main Pass 3.7LBD with a protected anchorage (in low flow) and good natural ground landings for canoes, kayaks and paddleboards. This site can be identified from the distance by a high lookout tower that was once used at the Old Quarantine Station. More detail in River Log.

Southwest Pass Camp

An unusual and very expansive field of sand (the size of several football fields) sprawls behind the rip-rap on the West Bank at the Head of Passes, RBD at the mouth of the Southwest Pass (-0- RBD). Good low water camping is found here, but the entire bar goes under in high water flows.

Camping on the Gulf at the end of the Passes

Many Mississippi paddlers plan their last day as a round trip from Venice, usually involving a return trip via powerboat. But why not slow down and spend a night or two at your much-anticipated final destination, the beautiful Gulf of Mexico? It seems a loss to have paddled in and out of several months and several thousands of miles to miss this golden opportunity you have very dearly paid for! Unless the wind is contrary, or there are incoming severe storms, or a hurricane, the Rivergator recommends adding at least one more camp to your itinerary: and that is a beach camp on salt water. You can find suitable beaches at the end of both South Pass, Pass a Loutre and Southeast Pass. Keep reading and make your preliminary plans for the grand finale of your expedition.

How to Get Back from the Gulf

Whether you paddle back from the Gulf, or hitch a ride with a powerboat, Cypress Cove is the best place to return to, and meet your shuttle home. Venice Marina is a close second. Keep reading below for details about each, and contact info. A lot of paddlers in recent years have arranged for powerboats to shuttle them back from the ocean, or have hitched rides from passing fishing boats or workboats on their return to home port (which is almost always Venice for everyone in the Birdsfoot Delta). And you might decide the same, that you don’t want to paddle upstream. The current can sometimes be tough to paddle against, and the wind might be unfavorable. You are probably exhausted from your long day’s paddle to reach the coast, and really don’t have the energy to paddle back. But please know, dear paddler, that it isn’t too tough to paddle upstream. And you can make an extra campsite, and the take an extra day to paddle back to Venice. You will never be more than 25 miles from any given extremity of the Birdsfoot Delta. (The only exception would be the Southwest Pass, which is not recommended) The Quapaws are the downstream people, and the Omahas are the Upstream people. You have been a Quapaw for three months or more. Be an Omaha for a day or two. Anyone who has paddled the length of the Mississippi can surely paddle back upstream 25 miles! If the water is high and you have headwinds it might require 2 days of paddling. Lastly and most importantly, there is a distinct beauty in being an Omaha and making the upstream paddle home. You see the marshes and cane brakes and islands and mudflats up close and intimately in a way that you never do paddling downstream. You get closer to birds and other wildlife. You might see (and take photos of) animals you have not been able to approach, like nutria, osprey, green tree frogs, and maybe even a gator.

Paddling Back Upstream to Venice

The trick to upstream paddling is to find the path of least resistance. On a river, that means staying as close to shore as possible without grounding out. It helps to hug the inside of long bends when possible. You will find it necessary to follow the long lines around wing dams, jetties and dikes, and paddle underneath docks or other man-made structures that get in the way. But the most important skill in being an Omaha is learning to dive in and out of eddies. Paddle like the French Voyageurs of the Lewis and Clark who paddled up the Missouri, and then later up the Columbia and Snake rivers. Watch carefully in front of you for eddies and slow places and use them to your advantage. Cut into every eddy you can find and relax when you can. As the water speed increases past points in between eddies paddle hard and tough with quick bursts of energy. Find the next slow place and take a break. If the wind is blowing, hug the shore which offers the best protection.

For the most part paddling up the passes from the ocean will be enjoyable, and not too tough. The water is slow in most passes (unless in flood). Try to time your return with the incoming tide. The most challenging portion of your return paddle to Venice will be the 10 mile stretch of the main channel from Mile -0- up to Venice. The currents are almost always strong here, even with the tide in your favor. Also, you will have to make a channel crossing somewhere along the way (since all the attractive passes except SW pass are found flowing from the East Bank opposite Venice). This might be a dangerous crossing with the frequent freighter traffic moving up and down the river through here. But with careful examination, and monitoring your VHF marine radio on channel 67 you will be fine. Make your crossing as quick as possible, in a perpendicular run straight for the opposite shore, even if it means losing some ground due to river flow. You will quickly regain any lost ground once you resume paddling back up the other shore.

In general the East Bank will be easier to paddle alongside going upstream since it has slower flowing water. You will have to maneuver around some of the docking and port facilities surrounding Pilottown, but these obstructions further slow the current and make the upstream haul a little easier. Furthermore, the East bank features more inlets, passes, and other breaks that offer more opportunities for rest stops along the way. In contrast, the West Bank between Mile -0- and Venice is an almost contiguous line of rip rap and caged rock. There are only a few openings, and none of them except one (New Pass) with attractive landings. Even though the distance might be a little shorter (depending on what pass you take) the current is faster along the West Bank. All in all East Bank seems to be the best choice for the upstream paddle. The one factor that might change your decision is the wind speed and direction. In a strong west wind or southwest wind you would certainly do better hugging the West Bank.

After ten miles of upstream paddling (from Head of Passes) you will reach the top end of Grand Pass Island, and your long climb will be over. Paddle into the gentle current flowing down Grand Pass, and follow it one mile to Tiger Pass, one mile further to take out at Cypress cove. This short downstream paddle is doubly delicious: the end of your upstream travail, and the end of your expedition. Now you are rewarded by one last little piece of downstream muddy waters, the same muddy waters that you started on in St. Louis, or Minneapolis, or Sioux City, or Three Forks, or wherever it is that you first set your vessel into the river and started your first paddle stroke downstream to reach this point.

Boat Ramps and Landings

You could count the number of paved public access boat ramps below Baton Rouge on one of your hands. In fact, here they are, all four of them: Glass Beach, Plaquemine, Buras and Venice. There is reliable public access via boat ramp built using the crude revetment method at Bonnet Carre and Belle Chasse. In addition, you can find gravel access to the river (but not a concrete ramp) at Port Sulphur (conveniently providing access over the levee to an all-night cajun cafe and the last full-service grocery store heading to the Gulf on the river! Go to Port Sulphur in Rivergator for more details!). Another public gravel ramp is found immediately upstream of Fort Jackson. Several other landings in public places could make for “primitive access,” meaning the road does not actually meet the water (except in certain high water levels) but gets close enough to make a portage possible. These primitive landings are found over the levee from downtown White Castle, Algiers, and Donaldsonville. lastly, you could possibly gain permission to access land from the river via the private gravel landings found over the levee from some of the plantations, notably at Nottaway, Oak Alley and Point Houmas Plantations. These gravel landings might be occupied by a visiting steamboat, but with permission you can find access alongside the gangplank. Audubon Park at the end of the St. Charles Line in New Orleans makes a pleasant place to meet your party, but the only safe way to make a landing would be to lift your vessel and all your gear out of the water and up the steep bank composed of baled rock.

Defunct Boat Ramps

Several Boat Ramps identified on the USACE 2007 Lower Mississippi River Maps are either compromised, washed away or defunct, including Cargo Carriers Boat Ramp (near Baton Rouge 228 RBD), Donaldsonville (175 RBD), Carville (191 LBD), Bringier Point (173.7LBD), and Old Luling Ferry Ramp (120.8 RBD). These questionable boat ramps will be described in greater detail where we get to them further on in the Rivergator.

New Boat Ramps

On the other hand, several new boat ramps were discovered in the last Rivergator Exploratory Expedition in Fall 2015, including some very strategic places that could be extremely helpful to paddlers. These are all primitive boat ramps, but fully functional for any access needs you might have in your canoe, kayak or paddleboard. You will want to carry your vessel up to a safe place out of the reach of waves -- or up to your vehicle . The first is opposite Plaquemine Island at the base of Manchac Point at 210.4 RBD at Morrisonville Landing 25 miles south of Baton Rouge. This is a primitive gravel and rip-rap landing found off La Hwy 988 where it cuts north around Dow Chemical). There is also a new primitive gravel ramp south of New Orleans in Plaquemines Parish at RBD mile 78, which is open to the public. Lastly, of great service to paddlers in their last days on the Lower Mississippi is the skinny rock & gravel ramp at 43 RBD near Happy Jack (Port Sulphur). Primitive Boat Ramp. A gravel road runs over the levee from LA Hwy 23 to a primitive one lane boat ramp at the North end of the town of Port Sulphur. Ideal resupply place! 2-hour cafe nearby, and full-service grocery store.

Paddlers: please comment on any changes in the condition of these, and any other boat ramps along the Lower Mississippi. You can use the comments function which is found on every page of the Rivergator.

Paddling with Freighters

You’ve learned to paddle with towboats, and now it’s time to learn safe paddling with freighters. The “Wow” factor is huge. The pucker effect equally dramatic. Freighters add deep meaning to your experience thus far, and a visceral thrill to the ambience of the river. Imagine coming around the bend and being confronted with a factory-sized vessel plowing its way proudly right down the middle of the channel with a frightening whitewater bulb at its prow and crashing waves emerging in its wake. If you’ve ever wondered where all of those tows are going with all of that grain and scrap steel and coal, freighters are the other side of the story -- they are carrying all of those goods out of the heart of America across the oceans to the rest of the world! In the opposite direction, freighters bring in raw petrochemicals and other raw materials that are transferred to barges within Chemical Corridor and moved north by the familiar towboats you have been paddling amongst since Minneapolis/St. Paul. Maybe you’ve noticed towboats making the river rise and fall as they pass. This is due to displacement. Freighter have the same effect to an even greater degree. Watch especially for big container ships or cruise ships. The bigger and heavier the ship, the greater the displacement. This could result in total capsize of your canoe or kayak and loss of gear. A big ship might cause a two foot change of water level, with waves reaching three feet or higher. If your landing or campsite is not three vertical feet above high tide you had better look elsewhere for better protection! Ben Quaintance paddled this stretch of river in 2015 and had a good idea: carry a string line and level and use it to carefully gauge your vertical clearance with a small tape measure. If you are under 3 feet above water level at high tide you or your vessel might get wet with next passing big ship!

Buoys and other Hazardous Stationary Objects

The 3rd most dangerous hazard to river paddlers in Chemical Corridor is a stationary object in a strong current. In smaller rivers stationary hazards include rocks, boulders, trees, snags, bridges, fences, etc. On the big river the main stationary hazards are fleeted barges, but also include docks, piers, and buoys. You will paddle past many docking facilities found within the three mile busy section below the I-10 Bridge. Maintain at least a 100 yard safety distance away from these docks, and more if there appears to be any tow activity. Keep in mind that the wind can blow you sideways into bankside hazards. The river currents can also push you laterally across the face of the river. Watch shoreline landmarks and adjust your angle of travel accordingly. If necessary ferry out and head for the middle of the river, or the far side LBD. There are no buoys bank right through this section of river, because the water is deep all the way to the bank. But if your line of travel takes you into the middle of the river you will find a long line of red buoys (tow pilots call them the “nuns” for cone-shaped tops) marking the far edge of the navigation channel there. Oftentimes they are placed at the ends of wing dams or dikes. And that is indeed normally the case in this bend of the river; the US Coast Guard tries to maintain these buoys in a position of deep water at the ends of what is marked on the map as the “Red Eye Dikes” (5 miles downstream of Baton Rouge extedning from East Bank within Missouri Bend at 224.5 - 223LBD). How deep is the water at the buoy? Towboats & fully-loaded barges draw nine feet maximum, freighters fully-loaded 45 feet. But to add a little buffer the USCG likes to place them at minimum 50-foot depth. This helps accommodate unusual changes of water level in the ever fluctuating Mississippi River.

East Bank/West Bank

In South Louisiana people and pilots along the Mississippi River say “West Bank” for one side of the river, and “East Bank” for the other. Don’t use your compass for determining this distinction. East bank could be found north, south, east, or yes, even west of where you are on the river. West bank the same. If you divided Louisiana in half using the Mississippi River as the dividing line, whatever is towards the rising sun is the East Bank, and whatever is found towards the setting sun the West Bank. In general East Bank houses more industry and more big cities, such as Baton Rouge, Kenner and New Orleans. West Bank is less populated, but still busy enough, and includes the cities of White Castle, Donaldsonville, St. James, Algiers, and further down the last town at the end of the road, Venice.

We’ll keep using LBD for left bank descending and RBD for right bank descending on this stretch of river. But we’ll also use the East Bank/West Bank labeling to help with local communication. As you listen to VHF Channel 67 you’ll notice all of the pilots using this designation, and if you wish to talk to them do the same.

Change to VHF Marine Radio Channel 67

If you haven’t already done this, it’s time to switch to channel 67 on you VHF Marine Radio. You don’t absolutely need one; lots of successful expeditions have made it without. But on the other hand it will make your decision making significantly easier as paddle into the busiest stretch of river on the entire Mississippi. See below for more description of best use practices. Below Baton Rouge all commercial traffic leaves channel 13 and goes to channel 67. You should do the same. But if you are in a flotilla of vessels, use another channel for your own talk, such as VHF 9, or some other private channel.

Good Use of your VHF Marine Radio

Towboat pilots use VHF marine radios for communication between vessels, and also with harbor tows, lockmasters, the US Coast Guard, and recreational craft. Commercial traffic uses VHF cannel 13 while recreational VHF channel 9. Channel 9 is rarely used because they are so few pleasure boats on the river! Some paddlers carry radios and monitor VHF channel 13. Any frequent paddlers and any long-distance paddlers should carry one, at the very least for emergency purposes. When in doubt alert tow pilots of your presence with simple statements like “canoe heading downstream right bank descending along green can buoys, crossing over and making landing left bank descending at Such-and-Such Landing.” Most tow pilots will appreciate the information and respond with encouragement and good advice. Others will swear at you and tell you to get the **** out of the way, which is not helpful at all, and might lead you to making bad decisions. If you are using one, be a wise user. Tow pilots know the river like no others. But they don’t understand canoes or kayaks very well, and have little to no idea about how canoes & kayaks & stand-up-paddleboards move through the water, and what our special abilities are -- as well as our limitations. So, if you have one, and can use it, great. You are well-prepared. But if you don’t have a VHF marine radio, or aren’t comfortable with using one, don’t worry. Thousands of successful expeditions have completed their journey without one. Note: Commercial Traffic use VHF channel 67 between Baton Rouge and the Gulf of Mexico.

SOS Emergencies -- How to call MAYDAY

Please note that Channel 16 is the official marine vessel safety channel and is the only channel that the Coast Guard officially monitors (though they usually monitor channel 67 in South Louisiana). Channel 16 is the channel on which MAYDAY broadcasts should be made. However due to the limits of handheld VHF radios and the possibility that vessels in your immediate area not monitoring channel 16 you may get a quicker response to your call for help on channel 67.

If you need to contact the USCG directly it is best to call the USCG command center for sector New Orleans on the phone at 504-846-5923. This is a good number to have programmed into your cell phone. Also note that 911 operators may have a limited ability to get responders who are able to make marine rescues to your location in a timely manner.

We recommend that you attempt to get help on channel 67 first, then channel 16, and then by calling the USCG via cellphone at 504-846-5923.

Ladies on the river

Women paddlers have special concerns and considerations that male paddlers may not be aware of. In this intro section, our Mighty Quapaw leader Zoe Sundra shares some advice for other female paddlers: Paddling on the river alone as a woman should be approached in a similar way to walking through any city alone at night. Be aware of your surroundings when off river. Avoid telling strangers specific details of your trip, campsite or that you are paddling alone. When on the river and breaking for meals and camp, be aware when you are passing through areas with higher concentrations of hunting camps and recreational areas. I have noticed these areas usually go hand in hand with groups of men who have been drinking heavily, are typically carrying guns and can definitely outweigh and overpower a female, no matter her strength. Most of these interactions will be harmless and people will genuinely be interested in what you are doing, but an interaction can quickly change. Keep conversations guarded and brief, avoid sharing details and if necessary say you are traveling with male companions. As unfortunate as this reality is, it is a risk a woman has to accept when paddling through remote regions of our country. (Zoe Sundra)

United States Coast Guard

Anyone witnessing an oil spill, chemical release or maritime security incident should call the National Response Center (NRC) hotline: 1-800-424-8802

Mississippi Department of Environmental Quality

(601) 961-5797

Louisiana Department of Environmental Quality

(225) 219-3640
or toll free: 1-(888)-763-5424

Toxic Release Inventory (TRI)

Under the descriptions of the chemical manufacturing facilities and oil refineries you will see the toxic releases from those facilities. This comes from the Toxic Release Inventory or TRI. Since the passage of the Emergency Planning and Community Right-to-Know Act of 1986 (and later expanded under the Pollution Prevention Act of 1990) any facility that produce more than 25,000 pounds or handles more than 10,000 pounds of specific toxic chemicals must report to the EPA how much of those chemicals it releases into the environment, disposes of onsite, or sends offsite for disposal. The data is all self-reported, that is each facility must keeps track of their own releases (this usually comes from discharge permits given by state environmental agencies) and provide that information to the EPA. These are all legal releases of toxic material. The facilities are legally allowed to discharge certain amounts of toxic material into the environment. This does not include accidental or un-permitted releases. It generally takes two years for the EPA to process all of the TRI submissions and release the data so you will see that all of the TRI data in Rivergator is from the most recently available year at the time of its writing which is 2013. We have only included releases of toxic material into the air and water in Rivergator. Virtually all of the TRI water discharges listed in Rivergator are into the Mississippi River. Information about the specific toxic chemicals released, onsite and offsite disposal, and host of other information is available online.

You can access the TRI data directly from the EPA at: http://www.epa.gov/toxics-release-inventory-tri-program

TRI data can also be accessed via an organization called the Right To Know Network. Their website can access EPA's TRI database in a way that is sometimes easier to use than the EPA site: http://www.rtknet.org/db/tri

Baton Rouge Crossroads

Canoeists and kayakers heading into Baton Rouge are approaching another crossroads of the Lower Mississippi River. Not only does the Intercostal Waterway provide perpendicular access to the southerly flowing river, but the addition of big freighters are a maritime game-changer at Baton Rouge, where they join the flotilla flurry of commercial activity and ratchet the danger scale upwards a notch or two.

Erstwhile paddler and philosopher Mike Beck offered a good primer for paddlers coming into Baton Rouge, and continuing on downstream. Observes Mike, with his characteristic sense of dry humor: “A lot of things on the river change at Baton Rouge, including attitudes:”

(1) The hailing frequency on the marine band changes when you pass the US 190 bridge. Change your Marine Radio from VHF channel 13 to VHF channel 67. PS: The USACE maps say to change the channel at Devil’s Swamp Light. It doesn’t matter where you do it, but be sure to make the change before coming into Baton Rouge.

(2) The volume and character of commercial traffic changes. From here to the Gulf, a paddler will be viewed less as a curiosity and more as a nuisance.

(3) People in Baton Rouge fear the river and regard it as a toxic cesspool. In South Louisiana the river is generally believed to be more polluted than it really is, and people, especially the educated ones, will tell you that this is a necessary trade-off for the sake of economic progress. Don’t try to disabuse them of either of these crippling superstitions; just smile and keep paddling. Briskly, if possible.

(4) The US Environmental Protection Agency considers the river clean enough to swim in from the Arkansas border until you reach Baton Rouge, where suddenly it isn’t. This has little to do with industrial pollution and everything to do with Baton Rouge flushing its collective toilet into the river. The City of Baton Rouge has been out of compliance with the Clean Water Act since the 1970s and has more or less flouted the conditions of a 1988 federal consent decree resulting from an enforcement action dating back to 1984. Earliest projected date for compliance: 2018. Baton Rouge has been more recalcitrant on this point than they were over school desegregation, which is saying something.

(5) An important geological change occurs here. You have reached the edge of the Pleistocene Terrace. That’s why there is a city here. From the foot of North Street (mile 230, site of the old Port Allen ferry landing), there is a continuous levee on both sides of the river all the way to the Gulf. The river begins to run slightly slower. At very low river stage, the BR gauge shows a tidal signal. Below here, the so-called “dry land” on either side of you is less than 7,000 years old. (Mike Beck)

Biting Bugs

It is worth mentioning that biting insects are something that you should be prepared for on your paddle in the deep south. (Thanks to Paul Orr and Zoe Sundra for writing this section.)

Mosquitos - In all but the coldest months mosquitos are a fact of life in the lowlands along the Mississippi River in Louisiana. Be prepared to deal with mosquitos (and sometimes clouds of mosquitos!) on your paddle. West Nile Virus and St. Louis Encephalitis are still showing up in SoLA. These diseases are not likely to cause a healthy adult any problems but young children, the elderly, and those with weakened immune systems should be very careful. If you or anyone in your party develops flu-like or other symptoms (body aches, joint pain, vomiting, diarrhea, rash, fatigue, fever, headache, dizziness, nausea, weakness) it is best to see a doctor as soon as possible. PS: A great way to avoid getting attacked by mosquitoes when leaving your tent at night is to use the bathroom is doubling 2 gallon size freezer ziploc bags and keeping them just outside your tent during the night. This will prevent continued itching, discomfort and unnecessary trips into uncomfortable weather throughout your expedition!

Fire Ants - Accidentally imported into the Gulf South through the Port of Mobile, the imported Red Fire Ant is now a widespread nuisance in the Deep South. You may have been lucky enough to avoid these aggressive and painful biters thus far but you won’t likely get through a paddle to the end of the river without at least a few bites. Just keep a sharp eye out for the characteristic hills (sometimes hiding in the brush!) and double check your camp site.

No-See-Ems / Biting Midges / Biting Gnats - Whatever you call them they can be a terrible nuisance. These tiny dark-colored flying insects live in the marshes of coastal Louisiana and can occur in very large numbers. Their bite can cause a very unpleasant localized reaction in many people and occasionally a worse allergic reaction in some. Paul has almost no problem with mosquitos but these gnats drive him crazy! The Rivergator expedition did not encounter any and hopefully you will not either, just be prepared if they do show up south of New Orleans. (Insider tip: Common bug spray seems to have no effect on these pesky fellas, but pure vanilla extract keeps them at bay!)

Ticks - Ticks are rarely seen in the Mississippi River Floodplain. They seem to prefer hill or mountain country like the Ozarks. It would be surprising to find them on the river south of Baton Rouge. However, anytime you walk through forested land it’s not a bad idea to follow up with a “tick check.”

Redbugs - Redbugs, like ticks, don’t seem to be much of a problem on the river south of Baton Rouge, but can occur in the area.

Poison Ivy

Poison ivy grows plentifully on the Mississippi riverbanks and in the batture south of Baton Rouge. In some places it practically carpets the ground. If you are allergic to poison ivy (and remember, many people who think they are not allergic suddenly find themselves with a bad case one day…) learn how to identify it and be cautious with where you set up camp. Very little will make a paddle trip more miserable than a bad case of poison ivy.

ATTENTION: Paddlers with allergy issues are strongly encouraged to make sure that their allergy meds are fully stocked and close at hand!

Nurdles: What Are Nurdles?

Donovan Hohn, the author of Moby Duck, introduced me to nurdles during the Rivergator Exploration through Chemical Corridor in 2015. The river is full of surprises, and some of them are man-made. Every time I think I know everything about the river, something new pops up.

Below Baton Rouge you might have noticed the beach strewn with tiny clear-white plastic blobs about the size of a tear drop. Maybe you saw them during your walks along the shoreline; they are especially noticeable at water’s edge with other micro-detritus. These transluscent globular “pills” are the basic currency of the plastic industry. Composed of high-density polyethylene they are mostly inert, and considered non-toxic. But they have been known to vent phthalates, and can cause digestive problems for living creatures. You probably haven’t seen them before now because they are not manufactured above Baton Rouge. But below Baton Rouge, they are manufactured by the billions -- by some of the industries found within Chem Corridor -- and of course are accidentally spilled during cargo transfer.

Nurdles or "nerdles" are mistakenly consumed as fish eggs. They have been found in the guts of fish and other creatures. Not only can they cause physical disruptions to respiration and/or digestion (in some cases blockage or suffocation), but they can emit toxins and simultaneously absorb toxins like PCBs out of the water. If you haven’t noticed nurdles, start looking, and then maybe remove them and add to your trash bag before some fish or turtle inadvertently eats one. The dozen you pick up are insignificant to the quadrillions of nurdles that are manufactured world wide every year, but as they say “every little bit helps.”

Leaving Baton Rouge and heading downstream

If you’ve gotten this far, to the port of Baton Rouge, congratulations, you’re doing good! Now you’re ready to continue on downstream into the most extreme concentration of riverside industry outside of the German Ruhr or the Yangtze at Shanghai. Keep it up, whatever you’re doing. Exercise caution in all grey areas, stay on shore when uncertain, and employ sailor’s sixth sense.

Welcome to SOLA (South Louisiana)!

Paddling downriver from Baton Rouge, you are leaving the last of the truly high ground on the Mississippi River. Historically, most of the land below Baton Rouge would be covered and nurtured by the annual flood waters of the Mississippi River. If viewed from upriver, this is the beginning of the end. The land here appears to be leveling out, sinking, melting away, and it is (another complicated and fascinating story we’ll get to later, downriver). But geomorphologically this land was growing. It is the youngest land of all the Mississippi river basin, laid here annually by the Father of Waters. That was until man flexed his mighty engineering muscle and chose to end a cycle that had flourished for millennia. After the Great Flood of 1927 and the Federal Flood Control Act, the Mighty Mississippi was tamed, confined within tall levees, ending the very process that created and sustained the land that lies on the other side. Here, this unnatural intrusion begins to come clear as you float the serpentine moat of Louisiana’s Petrochemical castle.

South Louisiana’s history is long and fascinating. The artery of its birth, triumphs and tragedies is of course the Mississippi River. From inside the levees paddlers are able to view this curious place from a vantage few ever have the opportunity to see. Yet whether you arrived with the “Indians” (the original Athabaskans who probably migrated down the continent from the Bering Strait) or with the pioneer Europeans, Louisiana was probably first seen from the Mississippi's waters. SoLA was explored, founded and settled along the banks of the mightiest of rivers. But from the beginning the treachery of this place was clear. The original settlement of the French explorers that founded New Orleans barely lasted through the first high-water season. And so began man’s quest to live in harmony with, or perhaps in conquest of, the Mighty Mississippi. Levees became a necessity of survival and have been growing ever since.

The Mississippi is the reason SoLA (Baton Rouge, New Orleans, Venice, etc.) exists, and still sustains it, altered as it may be. As with all things, there are trade offs. To protect communities like New Orleans and Baton Rouge, SoLA confined the ever shifting Mississippi, essentially cutting the arms and legs from the heart, leaving them to starve for lack of the life giving blood the river once provided. But as intended the communities that inhabited the floodplain of the river have been saved from the seasonal flooding and perpetual meandering of the water. SoLA was saved from being washed away, or so it was thought. Here in the industrial corridor vast agricultural plantations gave way to sprawling industrial facilities. Both of which located here because of the Mighty Mississippi. Slaves that once inhabited these plantations often settled communities adjacent to the land they had once worked following their emancipation. As SoLA’s industries evolved, these communities along the banks of the river, at the edge of these historic properties, found themselves on the fence line of a new generation of plantation. Communities up and down the river, once at home in vast fields of sugarcane and lush landscapes, became neighbors with oil refineries and chemical manufacturers, confined by an ever-constricting infrastructure of rail cars and pipelines carrying the new commodities of SoLA. Commodities that might make your eyes burn, your throat tighten and lungs gasp for breath. Having tamed the natural flooding of the Mississippi, SoLA began displacing its historic river dwelling communities with a new danger: “Industrial Progress.” Sadly, this conflict, and has played out for decades throughout SoLA. Some of these stories are mentioned elsewhere in the Rivergator (see ExxonMobil and Sunrise) as you travel downriver.

Downstream, as you reach the terminus of the Mississippi River you will witness another story of displacement. The imprisonment of the Mississippi (as well as other factors we’ll discuss later) has led to the most rapid rate of land-loss seen anywhere on the planet. There in the real delta of the Mississippi, another type of flood is consuming communities, directly as a result of man’s effort to prevent that very thing. Call it a curse of SoLA’s past indiscretions or a lesson from Mother Earth about the control of nature: the Mississippi River takes what it wants, despite the will of man. (Michael Orr)

The End of the River (and life as we know it!)

The end of the River (and life as we know it in North America -- as paddlers): Living at the end of the river has its soaring highlights and its sobering unpleasantries. Geographically speaking SoLa is of course the very end of the entire Mississippi River system. Or better said: its roots. From these roots (the gnarly channels reaching down to the Caribbean) stands strong and tall the river’s massive main trunk (the Lower Miss), its gargantuan main forks (Ohio, Arkansas, Missouri, Tennessee) and all of its hundreds of branches (tributaries) and thousands of twigs (smaller tribs) which all reach upwards and outwards from continental divide (Rockies) to continental divide (Appalachian) into smaller and smaller springs, seeps, and tiny drainages that catch and funnel every dewdrop and drop of rain and melting snowflake downwards and eventually southwards to this location. This catchment basin drains more of the earth than any other save for the Amazon (and possibly the Congo). If the Midwest is “the heart,” then the North Woods is the “head,” the Great Plains and the Eastern Woodlands are the “arms,” and the Deep South is the “gut.” We sometimes refer to this stretch of river, from Memphis down, as the “stomach” or the “gut of America.” Some people turn up their noses at this nickname, but the gut is every bit as important to the whole as any other part, and more important than some. You can live without your arms, for instance, but not without your gut. And this nickname also fits the general atmosphere where people tend to “go with their gut,” and let their gut hang out, and also enjoy a feast of “Hawg-Maws” or Chit-lins (also known as Chitterlins) as a hangover favorite after a night’s revelry surrounding some live delta blues, zydeco, second line, or swamp rock.

Not only does the river here wind through this muddy landscape with serpentine meanderings similar to the lower intestine, but it also digests the water, and revitalizes the whole with the transformed energy. (That is, when it’s working correctly). In this scenario the rich gravy broth of America’s sediment becomes transformed into arguably the most mouth-watering culinary offerings the world has ever seen (Creole, Cajun), the most powerful form of popular music ever (jazz), and one of the most vibrant cultural flowerings in the history of mankind (New Orleans). Before humans started mucking with things, SoLa boasted one of the richest fisheries in the world for its shrimp, tuna, oysters, and other fishes & crustaceans, and the biggest migrational flockings of shorebirds, songbirds and waterfowl, which congregate here twice a year in their annual migrations to and from Central/South America over the Gulf of Mexico.

When you are located in the gut you receive all of the best of what that system has to offer, and all of the worst. So there it is in a nutshell: the geography has created in SoLa the pinnacle of human culture within the deepest pits of its greed and corruption. Needless to say this makes for a forever fascinating landscape to paddle through. If my name was Dante Allighieri and I wanted to make a fresh rendering of my trilogy the Divine Comedy, I would most certainly set it in SoLa, and the river would be the vehicle for the narrative. Because on the river you see the worst of the worst; and in the remaining wild places and cultural highlights, the best of the best. Probably everything you have heard about canoeing or kayaking through Chemical Corridor is true, or could be true. But voyageur, take heart and pay attention. Exercising some strong paddler’s gumption and a lot of intuitiveness, you can enjoy an educational, inspiring, and oftentimes life-changing journey through this land at the roots of the river, in the gut of America.