The tubes are Huge

The pontoons I bought from a whitewater raft company that used them on their motor rigs in the Grand Canyon. Each one is 23 feet long and has a water line of 17 feet. Brand new they are a hefty 5,000 dollars apiece but provide years of use, and are well known in the industry. They are time tested and durable. The Manufacturer uses a five-ply-construction of neoprene-coated nylon fabrics and then equips them with chafe strips and stainless steel "D" rings for lifting or rigging. Each pontoon has three internal diaphragms, which divide the tube into four sections that inflate (or deflate) independently. This drastically decreases the chance of loosing an entire tube due to punctures or rips. Rated at 400 lbs of buoyancy per foot the two pontoons will accommodate close to 14,000 lbs., so if you happen to know Babar, Horton or Snufalufagus please invite them.

Time Lapse - Mississippi River - Lock & Dam #1

Check out this link www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCa7IU2uzsg

The design process

By the end of January, after months of designs and idea after idea being tossed into the wastebasket, Monte Tillinghast and I had something we could agree on. There were no blue prints for this kind of boat, part Grand Canyon J-rig and part Mississippi houseboat. We started from square one. I was designing with functionality in mind i.e. how to get on and off the boat, keeping mosquitoes out of the cabin, and privacy issues for bathroom goers. Monte's meticulous mind however, was spinning at high RPMs about buoyancy, torque, and static load capacities. We each contributed very differently to the process but in the end created a unique design that balances cost, structural integrity and comfort.

Here are a couple of older designs

 

Sketch of Big Getter

The original who? when? what? why?

The who?, was narrowed down drastically by the catch 22 of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. There aren’t too many folk who make a living and also have three months off in a row. On the other hand, those who have the liberty of three months off probably don’t have jobs and therefore couldn’t afford such a trip. Of the few people who fit the first criteria, the number of individuals that would be happy spending 90 days “sleeping in the dirt” is microscopic. So it was settled that Aaron and I would make the journey alone with the possibility of a third if the interest arose.

When?, that was easy for me considering I retired the day I graduated high school. Aaron however, had just switched majors, re-enrolled in university and wouldn’t be able to commit until after graduation in 2007. He suggested that we make it 2008 just to be safe. At first I thought it ridiculous to wait an additional year, but when he reminded me that he was already 4 years into college and still a sophomore and I saw the logic and agreed.

What kind of craft would we use for such an epic adventure? At first we were going to take “The Eyeless Tripper” and “the Grumman Drumman,” our two canoes, but the more we thought about the work involved in making and breaking camp everyday the more we searched for an alternative vessel. We needed something we could live on, a houseboat of sorts that would allow us to simply set anchor and immediately enjoy the creature comforts of a properly made camp. By no means however, did we want to be subjected to the noise and air pollution of an outboard motor, which is the usual form of propulsion on houseboats. That led us to explore other possibilities i.e. solar, wind, hydro and human power. No decisions were made at that time, but we did feel like pedal power was worth researching.

Why ask why? We were born watermen. Our hearts pump fresh water and there is no place either one of us would rather be than in a boat watching the world pass by. To us life is floating downstream and longevity the goal, and that is why we search for the endless river trip.

Where did the idea come from?

This Idea was born about six years ago in Big Bend National park as two of my friends Aaron and Kyle, my Uncle Tom and myself floated the Rio Grande. It was a long trip, about 25 days but for Aaron and I it just wasn’t quite long enough. As we drifted between canyon walls we daydreamed out loud about spending weeks and then months on the river. We couldn’t get enough. Any river!!, every river!!!, the Amazon, the Yukon, the Yangtze and the Nile, the Ob and the mighty Mississippi; If they were long we longed to float their waters. “Well, if three and half weeks aren’t enough maybe three and half months would satisfy us,” Aaron suggested. “Or three and a half years,” I belted out.

Our daydreaming continued into the evenings and as we stoked the fire with gnarled mesquite branches we discussed the pros and cons about descending the longest rivers in the world. One river was too slow but accessible, others were fast but malaria ridden, some were romantic, or dammed, or too buggy, if militia weren’t the problem it would be the bears or hippos. We slung ideas back and forth and realized that some of the pros were cons and some of the cons were pros, but one thing remained true; we still wanted to float them all. But where should we begin? As our fantasy grew, days passed and more river miles were upstream of us, we noticed that the word “Mississippi” clung to our tongues.

So the question of ‘where?’ had been decided. Our thoughts however, were still being tantalized and our conversations controlled by ‘who?’, ‘when?’, ‘why?’, ‘how?’ and ‘what?’. The answers to those questions started out ruff around the edges then got smoothed out, torn up and stitched back together so many times in the last six years that a creationist might start listing left. Ill eventually fill you in on the evolutionary process, but for right now lets go back to the idea’s inception on the muddy little Rio Grande and the wayward river rats.