❖ Let's go on a ferry cruise up Eastsound ❖ 29 June 2020

M. V. KITSAP
Lots of time on our hands,
Let's go on a cruise down Eastsound,
This day of 29 June 2020
Four photos courtesy of
L.A. Douglas, Blakely Island, WA.

M.V. KITSAP
Let's go a little further, there must
be a way out of here.
29 June 2020.

M. V. KITSAP
Hard to port, it is a nice day,
  let's go see Dolphin,
Orcas Island, WA.
29 June 2020.

M. V. KITSAP
Ahhh, what a nice cruise,
leaving Eastsound, Orcas Island, WA.
Thanks, Lance. 29 June 2020.

❖ WHALES COMING THROUGH ❖ 25 June ❖

10:15 a.m. Orca whales traveling westbound 
past Broken Point, 
Shaw Island, WA. 

Through a close-up lens here is the
baby of the family.
Click image to enlarge.

and the baby splash!
A trio of photos by
L.A. Douglas, San Juan County, WA.

Orca whales swimming past
Broken Point, Shaw Island,
San Juan Archipelago, WA.
Click image to enlarge.
A trio of photos on this day 
25 June 2020

Then, later in the day these below photographs were taken c. 1:30 p.m. as the Orcas were traveling northeast from Lopez ferry landing to Peavine Pass.
Courtesy of L.A. Douglas, shooting from his deck on Blakely Island, SJC.

❖ Sea Story with Schooner GRACIE S. ❖ verbatim by Lew Dodd of Yellow Island.

Letterhead stationery of
Lew Dodd, owner/resident of Yellow Island,
San Juan Archipelago, WA.
Letter sent to a mainland friend in 1954.
Click image to enlarge.
From the archives of the Saltwater People Historical Society©

Lew and his wife, Tib, longtime Orcas Islanders, purchased Yellow Island and retired there fulltime in 1947. Lew wrote long, interesting letters to friends and family while he was snugged down and happy building a life on their private island. Written in longhand by Lew to some correspondents on the mainland, here is an excerpt from one letter dated, 30 December 1954.

"...Several years ago I went all around Vancouver Island on Ed Kennell's pilot schooner GRACIE S.*  We went into places that still are raw, undeveloped, wild, and about as they were many years ago. It is a wild region that West Coast, and it is anyone's guess of what will ever be made of it. One place we went into was Refuge Cove north of Nootka Island and west a bit. On the west side of the cove was quite a large Native village, canoes and skiffs hauled up in a long row. The men had rigged clothes lines running from the shanty-like homes to the tops of the tall fir trees and these lines resembled the masts of vessels dressed with code flags as on a special occasion. Every color of the rainbow in shirts, pants, dresses, underwear, ribbons, and whatever else those Natives used. On the opposite side of the nearby land-locked cove was a fish camp run by an Englishman who had seven children, who when lined up on deck, looked like animated treble musical scales and sounded like it also.
      This Englishman told us that the old Natives had said to him that our schooner was the largest vessel which had ever come this far into the cove and the only sailing vessel of such a size, in many, many years which had been at this place.
      On our second day, there were two very, very old Native men who came alongside in their canoe which they tied to our rail and then made signs they wished to come aboard. Once on deck, they moved slowly around inspecting everything very closely and missing nothing. Their English was extremely limited but their gestures were emphatic. All they kept saying to each other was; "beeeg sheep, beeeg sheep" and "Seelah! Seelah!" and nodding to each other in agreement. They believed we were an old-time sealing schooner and wanted to know "where come--Seattle?" Ugh--Seelah"; "Come Seattle many long time ago!; "Here!"
      So, you see there are still Natives along that west coast of Vancouver Island who remember the pelagic sealing days.
      When we finally got down to Victoria, among the visitors who came aboard was a very tall, lean, sharp-faced, man with piercing gray eyes and a general bearing of one who had known at first hand the sea. I was introduced to him and he turned out to be a Captain Todd, one of the last skippers of a pelagic sealing schooner sailing out of Victoria shooting seals along the coasts of Japan before the International agreement was established outlawing this wholesale slaughter of the fur seal.
      On Orcas, when we first came there, lived a Captain Gale whose schooner, also a sealer, had been seized by the U.S. government. Just before his death, I think around 1934, the government reimbursed him for his loss. This came at a time too late to do him much good but his sister, Mrs. Madeline Curry, at about age 92 is still able to supply her few needs from what remains of the money refunded to Capt. Gale.
      So it can be seen we're not so very far removed in time from some of what happened when this Pacific Northwest was yet younger than we now know it. I shall never forget that evening spent listening intently to the first-hand accounts of the sealing days of Captain Todd of Victoria, B.C."
Lew Dodd.
With thanks to Ruthie for sharing the letter copies written by this retired man of the sea. 
* More about the pilot schooner GRACIE S can be seen on this Log HERE

Another post of the arrival of Tib and Lew Dodd to Yellow Island in 1947 can be viewed HERE.

❖ TUG RACING ❖ 1951

Most races are canceled for 2020 but we can pull from the historical archives and admire the old duffers huffing past to give their audience a thrill, then and now. Here is a report from 1951.
    

The tug WEDELL FOSS
(ex- R. M. Woodward)*
Built 1904
109' x 23'
Winner of Class A.
Foss Launch & Tug Company, Seattle, WA.
Click image to enlarge.
Photo by Williamson of Seattle from the
archives of the Saltwater People Log©

"The competition was so hot in the annual Maritime Day races on Elliott Bay, Seattle, that two tugs broke down in the four-mile sprints.
      Seattle boats won three of the races. A Navy tug from Alaska took the other.
      Thousands of persons onshore, on the Coast Guard cutter WACHUSETT, and on dozens of small boats watched the tugs plunge through the water in quest of the plaques awarded the winners.
      It was breezy and sunny, and the hard-working committees of the Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society and the Propeller Club, sponsors of the races couldn't have asked for better weather. [Web Anderson was the chairman of the event.]
      The Seattle tug ISKUM, owned by the Pioneer Towing Co and skippered by Don Houchen, took the honors in the first race when she beat out seven competitors in Class C, the race for busy little workboats of less than 273 horse-power. 

BEE
(ex-Nellie Pearson)
130900
Built 1901
59.4' x 15'
Washington Tug & Barge Co,
Otto Johnson, race day skipper.
Dated 1941 by professional Ray Krantz,
original from the archives of
the Saltwater People Historical Society©

      Second place was won by the BEE, another Seattle boat, owned by the Washington Tug & Barge Co, with Otto Johnson as skipper. Third place was taken by the MAGNOLIA of Tacoma, owned by the Olson Tug Boat Co and handled by Bill Thompson. 
      After the starter came the closest race of the day, with three tugs in Class B, for harbor tugs, finishing within ten seconds.
      

FOSS 18
(ex-cannery tender ALICE)
Built 1892
69' x 19'
Inscribed with "525 HP Diesel"
Click image to enlarge.
Original undated photo by Ray Krantz no. 13236.
From the archives of the
Saltwater People Historical Society.©

The Foss Launch & Tug Co which had bad luck when the HAZEL FOSS developed engine trouble in the opening race, took first place in Class B. The FOSS No. 18 was the winner, followed closely by the LaBONNE, Vancouver, B.C., and the SWIFTSURE 11, from New Westminster, B.C. 
      Another Foss tug, the WEDELL FOSS, followed this with a victory in Class A, for the powerful ocean-going craft. In second place was the MACLAUFAY from Tacoma, and third was the ISLAND SOVEREIGN, from Victoria, B.C. 
      Honors in the military class, which topped the program, went to the ATA-242, a Military Sea Transportation Service tug from Kodiak, Alaska."
Jay Wells, Seattle Times, May 20 1951.
      
 *Further reading: Good life history on the WEDDELL FOSS and the FOSS 18 can be seen in Michael Skalley's Foss, Ninety Years of Towboating. Burbank, CA., Superior Pub. 1986.    

❖ GENERAL MIFFLIN TO TUG KENAI ❖ 1904-1963

 
The GENERAL MIFFLIN,
in top photo, was arriving at
Fort Flagler coast artilllery headquarters
with inscription verso, the writer was assigned
to the 26th Co. to Fort Flagler, Washington
Coast Defense of Puget Sound.
He notes it was a 12 & 10-inch Rifle Company.
Card inscribed & signed by Frank K.
Two photos above from the archives of
the Saltwater People Historical Society©

General Mifflin was a U.S. Army steamer built in 1904 at San Francisco as a fort tender. 
      She was 380 G.t, 250 N.t, 130' x 27' x 12.1' 
      In 1934 she was rebuilt at a cost of $35,000 at the West Seattle plant of the Alaska Steamship Co. as the mail, passenger, and freight streamer KENAI. The company had recently taken over the mail contract from Juneau to Sitka by way of Chichagof, Hoonah, and way ports, and the KENAI departed 4 July on her first voyage in this service.

Steamer KENAI
(ex-General Mifflin)
Click image to enlarge.
8" x 10" photo by Jones Photo Co. of Aberdeen, WA.
Typed inscription on photo "800 HP, Ocean Going."

1942: Foss Tug and Barge acquired the steamer KENAI; last in service as a feeder boat for the Alaska Steamship Co converting her to a towing service without a change of name.
1962: Towed to scrap yard.

Source: Gordon Newell, editor. H. W. McCurdy's Marine History of the PNW. Superior Pub. 1965.
List of Merchant Vessels of the United States. WA. D.C.,1906.
Further reading: Michael Skalley. Foss, Ninety Years of Towboating. Burbank, CA. Superior Publishing. 1986

❖ BRISTOL BAY FISHING ❖

Bristol Bay gillnet sailboats 
Lining a Naknek River pier, Alaska.
Original photo dated 22 Jun 1947.
from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

June 1947
Naknek, Alaska

Most of the salmon fishermen flying north for Bristol Bay canneries are veteran gillnetters who have hauled red salmon into double-prowed fishing boats every summer the past decades.
      Some of the fishermen, however, are high-school and college men who are making their first trips to Alaska in hope of earning enough money to put them through school.
      Take 17-year-old Bob Davis, Seattle. He has two more years to complete at West Seattle High and he wants money for school and a new car.
      Ole Olsen, Seattle, is a typical veteran fisherman. Olsen came to Seattle from Norway when he was 19 years old and he's been fishing in AK ever since. He's now 53.
      There also are hundreds of Italian-American fishermen from San Pedro, San Diego, and San Francisco here this year.
      The arrival of so many Italian fishermen posed quite a problem for cannery cooks, for they must serve spaghetti at least two meals out of every three.
      One waiter, a college student from San Francisco just about swallowed his gum when he saw one fisherman pick up a serving platter of spaghetti, turn it upside down on his plate, and then start eating.
      "Don't think our spaghetti supply will last very long at this rate," the waiter muttered as he picked up the platter for a refill.
      The average fisherman will earn from $1,750 to $2,500 this season, depending on how good the catch is. And the men aren't too worried that the salmon run won't be heavy, for this run will mark the return of the heavy 1942 run and few fish were taken that war year.
      The gillnetters, once they start fishing, will work all day Monday and Tuesday, rest during the closed period Wednesday, and work form Thursday morning to Saturday night, Sunday is closed.
      

Bristol Bay Sailing cutter
at Alaska Packers Association Cannery,
Chignik, AK.
From the archives of
the Saltwater People Historical Society©

The men will get their food from scows anchored in Bristol Bay and they'll sleep an hour or so whenever they can. The fishermen don't think much about sleep, though, when the salmon are running.
      "We can sleep all winter," one grizzled Seattle veteran said. "We just lose money when we sleep here."
      Some of the workers here are halibut men who didn't travel in the halibut banks this year because the Fishing Vessel Owners Association and the fishermen failed to agree on the distribution of catch shares.
      "I've got a family to feed, I can't stick around in Seattle all years with no money coming in, " said one fisherman.
Robert L. Twiss. Seattle Times. 22 June 1947
      

❖ Treasure Island Trove of Port Townsend ❖ with James G. McCurdy ❖

Detail from the paste-down end cover
of this book.
By Juan de Fuca's Strait
author James G. McCurdy.
Published 1937
Binford's and Mort.

For many years the residents of Puget Sound had no facilities for the safekeeping of money and other valuables. They made use of clocks, cracked pitchers, and mattresses for the purpose, and nearly every home had cunningly concealed crannies under the rafters of the hearth, or behind the chimney closet as improvised hiding places. Some, fearing fires, depended upon Mother Earth or a hollow tree to keep their accumulated wealth secure; but even trees will burn, so it became a deep-rooted belief that the base of a stump was the ideal depository.
      This being the situation in the mid to late 1800s, it is not strange that there was a conviction throughout the district that considerable wealth lay buried in various localities, simply waiting for some fortunate individual to bring it to light. 
      When S.S. Buckley, the pioneer jeweler, died in 1873, everyone expected that he would leave behind him a sufficiency of this world's goods, as he had enjoyed large patronage and had lived frugally with only a man-servant for a companion. But to the surprise of all, scarcely any money was found about his premises, and his stock had to be sold to pay his funeral and other expenses.
      Old-timers recalled that every pleasant Sunday afternoon, Buckley had been in the habit of taking a stroll in the woods beyond Hammond's Orchard, and it was generally supposed that he had buried a large sum of money somewhere in that vicinity. If so, he hid it so securely that no one was ever able to find it, although many efforts were made to bring it to light.
      To this day there persists a general belief in the legend of "Harry Sutton's Gold," although it must be admitted there is little authentic evidence that it ever existed. Harry Sutton was known to enjoy a profitable trade at the Blue Light Saloon on Union Dock, long before the advent of banks. Sutton was given to taking long walks in the forest about once a week similar to those of Buckley, only his strolls took him back of Ben Pettygrove's orchard where there was a labyrinth of old roads. After Sutton had killed Charley Howard and fled from the town to escape his just punishment, these walks were recalled and it was conjectured that he had been placing his surplus funds in some secret hiding place. Wise individuals felt that in his haste he had not been able to recover his money and that it must be still buried at the root of some tree. For years this conviction was widespread and numerous efforts were made to unearth the supposed treasure.
      Interest in the subject had about died out when it was revived by the finding of a small box full of coins under a stump during road construction. This set the treasure hunters at work again but nothing further was found.
      When I was about ten years old, I too, became a treasure hunter and together with my brothers dug at the base of numerous trees on the outskirts of the town hoping to stumble upon Harry Sutton's buried wealth.
      Late one summer afternoon we happened to enter a small clearing far from home, shut in by somber firs––not the most pleasant place in the world for boys to be at that hour. In the clearing was one large stump that was marked with a multitude of X's (probably made by the axes of the woodchoppers) but we thought this is a very good omen. Besides, the earth of the base of the stump was very soft and with some sharpened sticks, we began to dig feverishly.
      At a depth of about two feet, we struck a board that gave forth a hollow sound. My older brother reached down into the hole and exclaimed: "It's  the top of a box!" Tearing away at the rotten wood, while we stood about him scarcely able to breathe for excitement, he thrust his hand down into the box and brought up a smooth rounded object that gleamed strangely white in the subdued light of the setting sun.
      He held it aloft and we gazed at it fascinated. Then with a cry, he hurled it to the ground and we fled precipitately from the ghostly place. The object was a skull! We did not take time to ascertain whether it had belonged to man or beast.
      Some years ago I took part in a thrilling search for secreted wealth and successful in unearthing money and securities amounting to over a hundred thousand dollars.
      Lawrence Smith, who had been a butcher for years in Port Townsend had been living a hermit life in a one-room shack out near West Beach. During boom days he had disposed of considerable land at inflated prices and had shrewdly invested the proceeds in government bonds. He neighbored with but one person, S.M. Eskildsen, who had a farm not far from the Smith ranch.
      The hermit had been ailing for some time and one morning Eskildsen came to me and exclaimed: "By George, Smith's a mighty sick man and I think he's going to die. We ought to take him to a hospital." We lost no time in securing an automobile and went out for the purpose of taking him where he could get skilled treatment.
      We found the door locked and barricaded from within, and had to take out a window to gain an entrance. Smith was out of his head and half-dead from the cold, leaning up against his cook-stove clad only in his underwear. We dressed him warmly and Eskildsen and the chauffeur hurried him to the hospital.
      Knowing that Smith possessed a large number of bonds, I remained behind to search for them, fearing that the place would be robbed as soon as it became known that the owner was no longer upon the premises. I broke open his trunk and looked hastily through it but failed to find anything of value. I examined his bed and looked carefully into the various receptacles ranged along the shelves but this also proved fruitless.
      I made a mental deduction that Smith would keep his bonds in some place where he could have his eye upon their hiding place by day or night and with this thought in view, looked into some wooden boxes piled one of top of the other back of his stove. Number one was filled with a miscellaneous assortment of small articles of no special value; number two proved likewise; number contained broken glass and torn papes on top, but down in one corner I saw a metal box about two inches square, wrapped about with wire.
      This looked promising and an examination revealed a roll of paper filling the interior of the box. I drew this out, removed the outer wrapping and there were his government bonds––in various denominations, and totaling exactly $100,000.
      Continuing my search, I found among the litter another small can which was filled with currency wrapped in tight rolls, but I did not take time to count it. At the bottom of the box was a purse containing a small amount of silver and I now felt certain I had located practically all of the hermit's hoard. Fearful of being attacked with all this suddenly acquired wealth in my possession, I locked the door of the shack and hurried out to the main road where I soon met the returning automobile. The valuables were placed in a sealed bag and left in the custody of the bank.
      Smith died the next morning and during the day Eskildsen and I made another trip to his cabin. In some old envelopes in the bottom of his trunk, we found uncashed government checks for interest aggregating a considerable amount.
      It was well that we had acted so promptly, for that night the cabin was broken into and everything was turned upside down. The floors were taken up, the bed was ripped to pieces, things were thrown helter-skelter about the room, and holes had been dug in about twenty different places about the grounds. It is not believed that the vandals were rewarded for their labor; if so, they have kept their secret well.
      Upon receipt of instructions from relatives, the remains of Lawrence Smith were shipped back to his old home in Kentucky for interment. When the sealed sack was opened and the tin can examined, it was found to contain $4,250 in currency of large denominations. The total amount found in the cabin and reported to the Court, and finally distributed to Smith's heirs was slightly over $106,500,* not an insignificant sum to have been accumulated by a man so uneducated that he could not read, and wrote his name only with the greatest difficulty.
      I never expect to experience a greater thrill than that which possessed me when I located that valuable cache. As I review that eventful afternoon–– the sick man slowly dying in the midst of his hoarded wealth –– the poverty of his habitation when he might have surrounded himself with every bodily comfort –– the secreted treasure and its ultimate recovery –– every element was present to form a drama of real life, packed full of human interest.
      Furthermore, the sighing of the wind in the treetops, the thunder of the surf along the adjacent beach, and the lonely spot which the hermit had selected for a home –– all were profoundly suggestive of a page from Treasure Island, with its story of hidden ingots and pieces of eight.
* Calculated to be ca. $2,986,509 in 2020.
Written by James G. McCurdy 
By Juan de Fuca's Strait. Binfords & Mort. 1937
From the library of the Saltwater People Historical Society.

      

❖ MIGRATION STUDY WITH THE STORM ❖ 1967

Purse Seiner STORM
ON 238689
Built in 1939, Tacoma, WA.
Photographed near Sitka, Alaska, as the scientists
studied the migrations of young salmon
along the West Coast.
Click to enlarge.
Original photo from the archives of the
Saltwater People Historical Society©

"When the U of WA Fisheries members go out to catch salmon, it is somewhat more complicated than a sportsman's weekend fishing trip.
      One of the scientific journeys involved tons of equipment, an 85-ft-long purse seiner with an experienced crew to operate it, radar, sonar, and a fishing net that stretches out 6 1/2 acres. With all that, they returned without a fish!
      The whole purpose of these voyages along the northern portion of the West Coast is research, of course. The Fisheries Research Institute has been turning its attention to young salmon and their habits upon leaving their native streams. The salmon were netted, tagged, and let go again.
     Like most fishermen, scientists require a boat, fishing gear, and food. There the similarity ends. The university chartered two different purse seiners, the STORM, and the COMMANDER, both out of Seattle. The boats are manned by a skipper, an engineer, a cook, and four fishermen and require such navigational equipment as two sets of radar, a two-way radio, and a sonar device for depth soundings.
      With the boats reserved for a 10-to-20-day trip, the university scientists  loaded aboard some rather bulky equipment, including a 1,000-gallon "live" tank to carry the fish and a special seine of fine mesh which weighed 7 1/2 tons. In addition, smaller but necessary equipment was required, such as a bathythermograph for recording the temperature of the water at varying depths and a Secchi disk for checking water clarity.
      Finally, the crew, plus the scientists and three graduate students, must have enough food, clothes, and personal belongings stocked aboard to last the entire trip, for they might not see land in all that time. Still, they returned without a fish. But their research goes a long way to providing a better understanding of the life history of the salmon, as well as aiding North Pacific salmon fisheries resources."
Tom Stockley, Seattle Times. November 1967.