Sometub's cruise on the C. & O. canal

In Short

This charming 1916 travel narrative chronicles a couple's unconventional summer vacation navigating a tiny, kitchen-built motorboat called "Sometub" across 347 miles of waterways, including a memorable journey down the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. Dogged by mechanical breakdowns, weeds, and rain, they rely on the kindness of locktenders and the unexpected towage of slow-moving freight mules. Blending outdoor adventure with historical reflections on George Washington and the Civil War, the book endures as a humorous, deeply observant snapshot of early twentieth-century American waterways and rural life.

The Story

The journey begins on the Allegheny River at Oakmont, Pennsylvania, where the travelers construct their unique, portable craft, affectionately named "Sometub," inside a domestic kitchen from a mail-order frame. After a brief run that introduces them to local river life and locks, they transport the boat overland to Cumberland, Maryland. Here, they officially enter the historic Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, securing their waybill and embarking into a landscape steeped in the memories of George Washington.

Almost immediately, the voyage is met with relentless rain, weed-choked propellers, and an obstinate motor that repeatedly breaks down. Forced to rely on the charity of passing freight boats, "Sometub" suffers the humorous humiliation of being towed by slow, plodding mules. These encounters introduce the travelers to the uncanny, silent world of night canal boating, where ghostly mule teams and profane drivers punctuate the midnight stillness. Along the winding route, they stop at remote hamlets like Oldtown, Little Orleans, and Hancock—fleeing the latter precipitously after a disappointing meal—while gathering provisions and testing their patience against nature's obstacles.

As they move deeper into Maryland, the narrative weaves local color with historical digressions. In Williamsport, they visit the office of veteran editor Col. George W. McCardell, playfully resolving an eleven-year-old journalistic feud concerning the relative merits of Maryland versus Virginia fried chicken. Further down at Shepherdstown, they confront the heavy legacy of the Civil War, recalling the bloody aftermath of Antietam through contemporary accounts of local women who nursed the wounded. Passing Harper's Ferry amid a torrential cloudburst, they reflect on the monumental engineering visions of George Washington and the fierce commercial rivalry that later pitted the canal against the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.

Nearing the capital, the voyage encounters its most dramatic moments. At Great Falls, they admire the roaring cataract and recall Civil War sniper skirmishes. After braving the summer heat near Cabin John bridge and Glen Echo park, they finally reach Rock Creek in Washington, D.C. There, a near-fatal drift toward a churning dam is averted by quick paddling and willow branches. The adventure concludes with heartwarming hospitality from night watchman Michael O'Leary, after which "Sometub" is dismantled and loaded into a freight car, bringing their remarkable aquatic vacation to a close.

How It Unfolds

The kitchen boatyard The narrative opens with the creation of "Sometub," a portable motorboat assembled inside a domestic kitchen from a mail-order frame. This unconventional boatyard attracts curious onlookers who express widespread skepticism about whether the strange contraption will ever float or survive open water.

Entering the historic waterway After traveling via Pittsburgh and shipping the boat overland to Cumberland, the voyagers secure their official waybill for the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. They set off into misty mountain solitudes, immediately embracing a route intimately associated with the life of George Washington.

Humiliating tows and nocturnal ghosts When the motor repeatedly breaks down due to propeller-choking weeds, friendly canal boat skippers rescue the stranded craft. Being towed by plodding mules introduces the travelers to the eerie, silent world of night travel and the colorful vocabulary of mule drivers.

Encounters along the banks The journey is punctuated by stops in small villages where they purchase supplies, sample local fare, and meet memorable personalities. In Williamsport, a playful reunion with a veteran newspaper editor successfully resolves a long-standing journalistic feud over Southern fried chicken.

Civil war echoes and historical reflection Passing through Shepherdstown and Harper's Ferry, the travelers immerse themselves in the region's heavy wartime history and dramatic natural scenery. They reflect extensively on early engineering visions and the fierce nineteenth-century commercial race between the canal and the railroad.

A perilous finale The cruise finally reaches Washington, D.C., where a near-fatal drift toward a churning dam tests their quick thinking and reliable paddle. The adventure concludes warmly as local longshoremen help dismantle "Sometub" and load it into a freight car for the journey home.

The People

The human landscape of the book is populated by resilient travelers and the colorful characters who inhabit the canal. The author, J.P.C., and his supportive companion—referred to affectionately as his "better, and on this occasion, less nervous half"—drive the narrative with a blend of curiosity, humor, and grit. They want to experience America firsthand from the water, but mechanical failures and obstinate weather constantly stand in their way, ultimately leaving them appreciative, humbled, and physically exhausted.

Along the way, they encounter memorable figures who shape their voyage. Mr. Walter E. Pattison, a former Pittsburgher living in Hagerstown, provides a welcome respite by offering a high-speed motorcar tour and facilitating a reunion with Col. George W. McCardell, the veteran editor of the Williamsport Leader. McCardell, a chivalrous southern gentleman, good-naturedly settles a playful eleven-year-old debate over the superiority of Maryland versus Virginia fried chicken.

In Shepherdstown, local figures like Marie Blunt provide poignant, firsthand recollections of nursing wounded Confederate soldiers after the Battle of Antietam, grounding the modern cruise in deep historical trauma. Earlier on the water, nameless yet heroic canal boat skippers—such as the masters of Boat No. 14 and Boat No. 18—act as benevolent admirals, rescuing the sputtering "Sometub" with timely tows. Finally, Mr. Michael O'Leary, a generous night watchman in Washington, D.C., extends classic hospitality by watching over the boat before its final disassembly, leaving the travelers with a lasting sense of warmth.

In Its Own Voice

Reflecting on the unique maxim that guided their unconventional summer vacation, the author captures the charming philosophy of choosing America's oldest improved waterway over conventional modern travel routes and highways:

To avoid the beaten path take the towpath!

Describing the surreal and absolute stillness that settles over the historic waterway after nightfall, the author brilliantly captures the uncanny, atmospheric solitude experienced by travelers navigating the dark channel:

A canal boat at night is a great hulk of hush.

Highlighting the frequent mechanical frustrations and the unceremonious rescues that repeatedly humbled their tiny craft, the author records the blunt, practical diagnosis shouted across the water by a young observer:

His en-jine's done busted, shouted the little ragged muleteer as he passed us on his plodding animals.

What It's Really About

Beneath its lighthearted exterior as a motorboat travelog, the book explores the tension between modern industrial speed and the lingering, agrarian pace of America's past. By following the historic route of George Washington, the author contrasts the relentless expansion of railways and automobiles with the quiet, contemplative rhythm of the C. & O. Canal. It examines how landscape is imbued with history—from the lingering scars of the Civil War at Antietam to the fading infrastructure of early American commerce. Ultimately, the book is an argument for deliberate observation, suggesting that true appreciation of a country requires slowing down, embracing minor discomforts, and connecting personally with the historic and natural landscapes that define its heritage.

Why Read It Today

Modern readers who love local history, slow travel, and outdoor adventure will find an unexpected gem in this narrative. Reading it feels like sitting on a porch with an observant, witty companion who is eager to share forgotten regional lore, quirky local encounters, and the quiet magic of moonlit waterways.

However, contemporary readers should approach the book with honesty about its historical limitations. Written in 1916, the text reflects period attitudes, occasional period dialects, and nineteenth-century nostalgic framing that can feel dated or slow-paced to modern sensibilities. Furthermore, the relentless cataloging of mechanical troubles and minor itinerary hiccups occasionally tests the reader's patience.

Yet, these very difficulties lend the book its authentic charm. It offers a rare, ground-level window into a vanished American landscape before the rise of modern mass tourism and paved highways. What stays with you long after closing the book is the vivid contrast between the frantic pace of the twentieth-century railway and the placid, mule-drawn silence of the canal—a timeless reminder of the rewards found in taking the slower path.