My cousin, Chuck, is a pilot on the lower Mississippi River. When he is on-call, his phone will ring at any time of the day or night and he will be directed to a ship arriving from China, Japan, the Middle East or Europe. His wife drives him in their suburban to a remote levee somewhere downriver of New Orleans. (She’s a sweet southern Belle who packs a .45 and knows how to use it – you never know what you might meet out there.)