The Dougherty brothers were awakened in the morning by the piercing, deep resonant tones of a steam whistle echoing throughout the valley.  

As they dressed and sprang out the door and began running down the hill toward the Cherry Valley Swing Bridge, they could just start to hear the heavy chug, chug spewing of direct exhaust from the steam engines and the pleasing, musical peal of engine room bells acknowledging orders from the pilot.  

Next came the thump, thump splashing sounds of sternwheel buckets digging and working the water into frenzied swirls and sizzling spray.  As the pilot brought the vessel to a full stop, the boys heard his abrupt, loud shouts to the crew to “slack away” or “snub the spring line” as they tied up to the shore bulkheads awaiting the swing bridge to open.

What a sight it was - the gleaming whiteness of the pilot house, black silhouette of the stack, hog post and chains, the plunging, working pitman arms of the sternwheel and the anxious looks of the grizzled deckhands on the bow and fantail.  

When the BLACK PRINCE was through the draw span, the brothers pushed the turnstile, bringing the bridge to close but never stopped their gaze, fascinated by the sternwheeler’s cascading waterfall of a wake and the towering, billowing smoke and steam trailing into the sky while it slowly disappeared beyond the bend of the river.