Let me introduce myself. They call me Tink—maybe because I’ve always been quick on my feet and full of ideas. Out here in the Dakota Territory, you’ll usually find me close by—sometimes stirring a little mischief, but always looking out for the folks I care about. Life on the frontier can be rough, but I’ve learned to laugh, share a story, and lend a hand when it counts. Stick with me and you’ll never be without a bit of adventure… or a good friend.

I serve as First Mate aboard the steamboat Far West, a sternwheeler built for the Missouri—what we river men call the “Big Muddy.” She’s the finest boat on these waters. With her shallow draft, light frame, and strong hull, she passes channels that stop other boats cold, from St. Louis all the way to Fort Benton.

Still, the river tests us. Sandbars snag the careless; when they do, we work the spars and steam capstans, lifting and shoving the boat back a few feet at a time until she’s free. The real threat is the deadheads—cottonwoods torn from the banks and lodged just below the surface. One hidden branch can rip a hull. That’s why every eye on deck reads the water, hunting for the faint ripples that betray them. In spring floods the current runs hard and the drift is thick, so we stand double watch. On the Far West, every hand knows the river is a living thing—powerful, dangerous, and always changing.

Ask me about: deck drills, “grasshopper” maneuvers off sandbars, whistle codes, and tying up at port.