Our family Summers were divided between the mid-coast of Maine and the upper Mississippi River around Dubuque, Iowa. In Iowa, we lived on “No Bottom”, a houseboat tied to the harbor shore. Built from a long, single-floor office building which was lifted off of its foundation then fastened to an iron barge, so you can see where the name came from. My folks would move the houseboat from the harbor down the river to Schinkles Bar Island (at Mile 574.2) on the inland shore of the island. Over time and because of the flow of the Mississippi River, the tip of the island decayed, becoming shorter and shorter over the years. In “No Bottom”, we wandered up and down the Mississippi, taking trips on the houseboat as far north as LaCrosse, Wisconsin but only about as far south as Bellevue Iowa…still, that was 144 miles to enjoy all summer long! Adjacent to the spot where the “No Bottom” was tied up was a large lagoon filled with varying sizes of lotus pads, from six inches across to two feet across and a stunning sight when the lotus bloomed. Hence, its name “The Lotus Lounge”.

Many Saturdays, we’d scour the island for dry deadfall wood to build bonfires on nearby sandbars, light them around sunset, and our barbeques would get into full swing. Three or four families would join the fest and under clear, Summer nights, the adults would exchange rollicking stories and generous libations, which none of us kids understood but we were having as great a time as they were, usually.
During the evening, more often than not, one of the great diesel towboats would sound their loud airhorns as they maneuvered around the bend in the main thoroughfare of the river, flashing their bright lights from atop the pilothouse from side to side, embankment to embankment, to make sure the way was clear. The rumble of their engines could be heard well after they made it through the bend and further down the river.
Late in the evening, we would all pile into 2 or 3 flatboats (except for my uncle’s gorgeous wooden 1930’s ChrisCraft) and “slowbell” over to the Lotus Lounge, where we would turn off the motors and simply float silently, admiring the nighttime firmament and the millions of stars. The parents would take turns singing their favorite songs of the 1920s-30s-and 40s. I sense those delightful hours were when I acquired my affinity for those melody-rich years. The evening’s favorite was sung by my father’s best friend, popular when he was stationed in the Hawaiian Islands during World War II. Duncan would sing the main part of the song and everyone would join in the chorus with him. It is a favorite of mine to this day: “Lovely Hula Hands”.

All of this being said, this recording is a tribute to my parents, their friends, everyone in my extended family, as well as cousins and their families!


Sounds include:
All of the sounds here were created by one prolific Freesound uploader known as Tim Kahn, who has been uploading sounds for the better part of 15 years!
The voices on this composition are by Dick McIntire and his Harmony Hawaiians for the 1940 recording oof “Lovely Hula Hands”, which my “Uncle Dunc” sang so well on those late nights in Lotus Lounge.

Credits:
Many thanks to Freesound uploader Tim Kahn for allowing me to use all of the sounds on this recording; and Dick McIntire and his Harmony Hawaiians

Lyrics:
Lovely Hula Hands
(R. Alex Anderson)

Lovely hula hands
Graceful as the birds in motion
Gliding like the gulls over the ocean
Lovely hula hands, kou lima nani ē

Lovely hula hands
Telling of the rains in the valley
And the swirling winds over the pali
Lovely hula hands, kou lima nani ē

Hui:
I can feel your soft caresses
Of your hula hands, your lovely hula hands
Every little move expresses so I'll understand
All the tender meaning

Of your hula hands
Fingertips that say, "Aloha"
Say to me again, "I love you"
Lovely hula hands, kou lima nani ē

All artwork © 2020 Samuel Bissell