The Mississippi and the Homochitto rivers are often chosen for recreational pursuits. But if the past is prologue, one might want to reconsider.

In the course of my research as genealogy chair for the Natchez Historical Society, I frequently come across accounts in letters and journals, of the fierceness of these rivers.

They are known to have quick-sand in their sand bars, treacherous and unexpected shoals, snags capable of destroying a boat, unusual currents and monstrous eddies.

Here is an account of a journey to Natchez, coming down the Mississippi in a flatboat (certainly more stable than a kayak) in 1800.

“Once, in a whirlpool or giant eddy, the whole crew felt they were going to die. The boat spun around clockwise at breakneck speed, and we could see the walls of water swirling around us as the boat spun in the epicenter of the eddy. But suddenly the spinning stopped, the river became amazingly calm, and the boat continued south following the mighty river’s course at the speed of the current.”

Sexton’s reports from the city cemetery tell a more succinct tale: “drowned in the Mississippi.”

It would be nice to associate our river with pure pleasure for the small boater, but history tells a different story. Indians hiding in the riverbanks, taking potshots at settlers, are no longer a threat. But these other dangers, including sightings of sudden eddies, still are.

Candace Bundgard,

Natchez resident