Bayou Liberty Nights

Rites of passage

Bayou Liberty was the northshore stream of my growing up. While the Tchefuncte River was bigger and better known, little Bayou Liberty which ran near Slidell and entered into Lake Pontchartrain, held a special place for one niche of the population, adolescent boys, particularly those who belonged to the Boy Scouts.

Camp Salmen, a regional gathering spot for area scouts was on Bayou Liberty. It was there that I first experienced riding in a canoe. Two of us boarded the craft which was pushed into the water where it sank maybe five feet out. Sure, the boats were leaky but at least the water was shallow. The incident gave credence to a campfire song, “The Deacon Went Down,” in which one of the refrains was:

“Well, you can’t get to heaven in a Camp
Salmen boat
Because the doggone things
Don’t even float.”

Another refrain poked fun at the scoutmaster who, let’s say his name was Jones:

“Well, you can’t get to heaven in Mr. Jones’ shoes
Because the doggone things
Are filled with booze.”

On some nights we sat around a campfire where we were taught songs including a chant from a mysterious culture:

“Oh Wha…Ta Goo..Siam.”

When we started to recite the words quickly, the giggles began.

Those songs no longer echo off the Bayou Liberty waterfront because the camp eventually moved to a new location in Mississippi and the former site was converted into pricey waterfront property.

When I last rode on Bayou Liberty it was on a party barge of one of the residents – and his boat did float. A tour now includes pointing to the waterfront backyards of the very wealthy’s summer homes. Scant mention is made of where Camp Salmen once was, thought the real historic spot is nearby. It was on Bayou Liberty that a boat chase scene was filmed for the 1973 James Bond film, “Live and Let Die.” Fortunately for Roger Moore, his boat did not sink either, though we cannot rule out James Bond’s backpack being filled with booze.

Being in the Scouts was a great experience from me not only at facing responsibilities, but for honing lesser lessons such as knowing that ticks hung out in moss; learning how to tie a square knot and mastering a stew made from Spam.

As a senior Scout, I experienced a rite of passage one night in the Camp Salmen thickets along Bayou Liberty. Several of us were being initiated into an honor camping organization called “The Order of the Arrow.”  After dark we were escorted into the woods, and each assigned a place where we had to camp out alone that night. I do not recall if I smuggled a small radio though it would have been like me to have done so. I do recall that the moon cooperated, and it wasn’t especially dark, though the sensory experience that truly warded off the fright was that I must have been located near Highway 433. I could hear cars chugging by with their radios blaring throughout the evening. I survived untouched by beast or Hun.

For our efforts we received cool looking white sashes with the image of a red arrow down the center. Curiously, I never wore the sash again. As happens to teenage boys their situations begin to change. Soon we would all be sailing in new directions.

Digital Sponsors

Become a MyNewOrleans.com sponsor ...

Sign up for our FREE

New Orleans Magazine email newsletter

Get the the best in New Orleans dining, shopping, events and more delivered to your inbox.