Eliska riverboat captain worked the rivers for over half a century

Capt. Jasper G. Lambert of Eliska.

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Old Man River’s 54 years: A rugged, rewarding life” was originally published in the Sept. 14, 1972 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

Jasper G. Lambert of Eliska Community was born Jan. 24, 1890. It was only a short distance from his birthplace to the banks of the Alabama River. As far back as he can remember, the steamboat whistle was the one thing that really stirred his blood. As a child, he would sit on the banks of the river and watch the steamboats load and unload their cargos as they made their way up the river and later return down river on their way to the port of Mobile and points beyond. It was during these days of early childhood that Captain Lambert realized that some of that old river water flowed through his veins, and a life on the swift waters was to be his destiny.

At the age of 14, he yielded to the call of the river. He went to work as a deck hand on the drift boats that floated the currents of the old Alabama. These boats had no means of power other than a 20-ft. oar that was called the helm. On each side was an occasional long pole with a type of paddle fastened to it. The helm and paddles were operated by hand, and the river’s current was the source of power. A strong back was the requirement when the boats were in motion. Nothing but muscle and know-how kept the flat bottomed boats from running aground or being smashed to bits on the rocky ledges along the river banks.

“When you hired on as a deck hand, and carried your things aboard, you didn’t worry about a place to sleep. There wasn’t much sleeping done on a trip down river. You stayed awake and worked – night or day, rain or shine. The only time you stopped was when the fog got so thick that you could chew it. Then you would pull over and tie up until the fog lifted, then move on again.”

These were the words of Captain Lambert as we sat on his front porch or gallery and talked of the times that he traveled the river, and captained the driftboats.

In later years he piloted the powerful tugboats as they pushed their loaded barges up the Tombigbee and Alabama Rivers. And as I listened to Captain Lambert about his experiences on the rivers, the lyrics of an old, old song kept coming to mind - “Old man river, he just keeps rolling, he keeps on rolling along.”

It wasn’t long after he began to pilot the boats that he earned his master’s certificate as a riverboat captain, and the remaining years on the river was as master of the vessel, on which he sailed.

“I know the river like the back of my hand. I know every rock and crook. I know the names of every bend and snag on both the Alabama and Tombigbee. I know the location of just about every boat that sank on the Alabama and what caused it to sink. I’ve got scars on my body that I’ll carry to my grave; all of which I got on the river. It was a hard life, but I reckoned I enjoyed it. I stayed with it long enough.”

There in the cool shade of the Captain’s porch, he convinced me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he knew what he was talking about. When he found out that I had worked a couple of summers as a deck hand on the riverboats, he knew then that we were talking the same language.

After a cup of riverboat  coffee and a slice of delicious cake prepared by the Captain’s sister, I knew the time had come for me to return home. As I was about to descend the front steps, the Captain said, “you can see the river from here, only a short distance. Look along that post there.”

As I caught the gleam in the Captain’s eyes, I knew that the river water still flowed in the veins of this old man of the river; as I rode down the lane leading away from the house, I found myself humming the old song.

“He don’t plant nothing, no corn or no cotton. He don’t do no worrying, its soon forgotten. Old man river, he just keeps rolling along.”

(This article was also accompanied by a photo of Lambert taken by Singleton, and the photo caption read as follows – “Displays certificate: Fifty-four year veteran of the river, Captain Jasper G. Lambert of Eliska community proudly displays his master’s certificate and ship log.”

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born during a late-night thunderstorm on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from 1964 to 1987. For years, Singleton’s column “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. Some of his earlier columns also appeared under the heading of “Monroe County History: Did You Know?” He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)