"The past actually happened but history is only what someone wrote down." A. Whitney Brown.

About Us

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San Juan Archipelago, Washington State, United States
A society formed in 2009 for the purpose of collecting, preserving, celebrating, and disseminating the maritime history of the San Juan Islands and northern Puget Sound area. Check this log for tales from out-of-print publications as well as from members and friends. There are circa 750, often long entries, on a broad range of maritime topics; there are search aids at the bottom of the log. Please ask for permission to use any photo posted on this site. Thank you.

25 December 2021

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2021


Click to enlarge and maybe you can
see what has been served for Christmas Dinner. 
Photograph dated 1911 from 63 Co. C.A.C. 
Port Townsend, WA.

And from the good ship, S.S. Snohomish 
decked out with ca. six evergreen trees and 
one officer at the pilothouse, greetings to you.
The photographer of this gelatin-silver print
inscribed the negative with date of 1916.
Both these originals are from the archives of 
the Saltwater People Historical Society.©


          


"May Happiness Come Sailing Home to You
from the Puget Sound Navy Yard."
Undated. Click to enlarge.



And from S.S. Commander 
on the Washington Route
Christmas Day 1932 and
not least, 
the crew of Puget Sound Pilots.
These greetings from the archives 
of the Saltwater People Historical Society©



21 December 2021

Mt. BAKER WITH MARGARET ATWOOD FOR THE SOLSTICE , WINTER 2 0 2 1


Codfish Schooners at Winter's Rest.
The Charles Wilson and the C.A. Thayer
alongside Nordic Maid.
Near Poulsbo, Washington.
Dated 28 November 1953,
Click image to enlarge.
Low-res scan of a silver-gelatin original photo from  
the archives of the Saltwater People Historical Society©


Majestic Mt. Baker,
ready to lend us some white for the holidays.
Eagle Bluff on Cypress Island, WA.
Twenty December 2021.
A photograph courtesy of  L.A. Douglas,
Blakely Island, San Juan Archipelago, WA.



"This is the solstice, the still point of the sun, its cusp and midnight,

the year's threshold and unlocking,

where the past let's go of and becomes the future;

the place of caught breath, the door

of a vanished house left ajar..."


Margaret Atwood
Eating Fire: Selected Poetry 1965-1995

13 December 2021

SAILING THE ISLANDS WITH JUNE

Apologies to readers who are fond of the writing of June Burn, it has been too long since we've enjoyed her cheerful words. Here she comes sailing through the islands she loved so well.


Several of the San Juan Islands in view  
from a vantage on Orcas Island, WA.
Silver/gelatin photograph by J.A. McCormick
an early photographer who set up his studio in 
the drugstore, Friday Harbor, WA.
Dated 11 June 1933.
Low-res scan from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©
     On the way to Friday Harbor in the Pawnee, chugging into the first southeastern of the season. The steel-blue waves come rolling up the channel towards us, our little boat climbing them merrily. What fun to feel the lift and drop, lift and drop of the light boat over waves at right angles to our keel. If they were coming side-on the heavy rocking wouldn't be at all pleasant. One might even condescend to get seasick in that case. But to go galloping over waves, up and down, is great fun. The splash of the fine spray into the face, the difficulty of keeping the footing, the delight of feeling oneself so close against the very breast of raw life––it isn't hard to understand why old sailors pine away and die when they retire!
        The islands sail by in stately procession––Speiden and the Cactus group, Flat Top, Jones, Yellow Island, McConnell, Orcas, and the shores of San Juan. Around the last point of San Juan, before the boat slides into Friday Harbor Bay, we see the new home of Dr. Frye, director of the biological station. It extends high against the sky on a grassy, rocky bluff. You will know it by its isolation, its pale rose color, and its location. Snug, sunny little houses, it looks with its many windows.
        Beautiful Friday Harbor with its wide curving bay front and the hills rising soon behind it, the white houses swarming over every hill. There are few seafront villages prettier. The waterfront has not been allowed to grow shabby. Nothing is untidy. The effect is one of freshness and charm. Even on a gray day, the village looks shining and lively.
        On the left of the entrance is the fish cannery, surrounded on any Saturday in season, by a fleet of purse seine boats home for the holiday of no fishing. I went to the cannery first thing to ask Captain Willy how many cases of salmon he had canned this year.

        A hundred thousand, he said, and called it an average year. If that is average I wonder what a bumper year would yield? I've bought Friday Harbor canned salmon in Washington, DC to California, in Florida, and wherever else I've ever lived. I dare say if one went to Hindustan, one could buy Friday Harbor salmon. Some of the fishermen out on the traps say that it has been better. Captain Willy's average is pretty likely to be nearest the truth.
        Salmon canning started in Puget Sound back before 1887. The peak was reached in 1917, with forty-five canneries running. There were fourteen in 1928. The biggest year was in 1913, with a total catch of spring, sockeye, coho (silvers), chums (dogs), pinks (humpbacks), and steelheads of a little over two and a half million fish with a total value of thirteen and a third million dollars. The total catch in 1917 was 892,244 fish, valued at $7,957,330. The next best year was in 1917 when there was a big run of pinks.
        On the extreme right of the entrance to Friday Harbor stands the pea cannery. Mr. Henry tells me that they canned 6 4,000 cases this year. The best year they have ever had, he says. The cannery itself plants 200 acres on San Juan Island, supplying itself with peas for about half the pack. The rest of the peas are bought from farmers who sell the hulled (they call them "vined:) peas to the cannery and feed the vines and hulls to their stock, thus realizing two profits from their crop. They get something like $70 a ton for the vined peas, which is the average yield from an acre. Thy hay and hulls are worth five or six dollars a ton for the four or five tons to the acre. But the cream which is produced by the hay and hulls is worth a great deal more than that so that the farmer who raises peas harvests a "right smart" crop. Moreover, the peas enrich the land they grow on.
        The quality of the peas was better this year than ever before, too Mr. Henry says. Sunny Isle and Saltair are the world's best. Sweeter, juicier, tenderer, and fuller of piquant flavor than peas grown inland. There is something about the salt air that does improve the flavor of peas, they say.


The upper view looks northeast 
towards Bellingham and Mt. Baker. 
A cruise on the mailboat route
 to various islands, from June's 
homeport in Bellingham,
  Whatcom County, WA.
Click image to enlarge.
Original photos from the archives of 
the Saltwater People Historical Society©

        The cannery employed about a hundred workers this season, with nearly fifty more vining in the fields.
        Up the steep main street which overlooks the water, I met Captain Scribner of the Medea. That is the boat in which the biological students go afield hunting red algae and dogfish, snails, and sea urchins, sand dollars, and a thousand and one other sea plants and animals with long Latin names, most of them so little familiar that they have never been given pet names at all. If any of you want to spend a profitable and delightful summer learning things about this wonderful country of ours, take a summer course at the U of WA biological station at Friday Harbor. You will be compelled to study and work hard. I tell you, but it is the best way to get acquainted with your land. See you tomorrow. June.

Author/journalist June Burn.

07 December 2021

SEATTLE'S FORTY NAVY VESSELS MOVED TO PIER 41.

 


25 October 1941
Navy's Pier 41, Seattle, Washington.
New to the Navy are the two gate vessels
shown in the foreground getting cloaks of 
battle-gray paint, the barges will operate
the harbor-net gates.
Click image to enlarge.
Original gelatin silver print from the archives of 
the Saltwater People Historical Society.©

"The throb of dance music and the smell of corsages used to be in the air of Pier 41 on days when ships like the President Grant and President Jackson sailed out of Smith Cove for the Orient.
        Miles of bright confetti draped like filmy mooring lines, linked travelers at the rail to the crowd below on the dock until the whistle's bellow drowned out the shouted, frantic farewells and started a transpacific liner backing ponderously from her berth.
        There was something impressive about such scenes, with so many emotions checked or loosed by so many people. Tears, whispers, embraces, smiles, the dabbing of handkerchiefs were parts of the picture and so was the massive, solid expanse of the great pier itself.
        All that is gone now. War has shrunk the Oriental trade, the Grant and Jackson have lain in quiet water across the bay at the Todd Dry Docks, stripped of their luxurious furnishings, refitted and today, ready for service as armed transports.
        Until a few months ago Pier 41, too, was almost lifeless. A single watchman patrolled the $2,000,000 wharf which thousands of Seattle school children since 1919 had been told was the largest on earth.
        Occasionally an American Mail Line sailing for the Phillippines would create a brief bustle, but most days the terminal that was built to handle 1,800,000 tons of cargo a year was all but empty, with its transit sheds littered, its paint peeling, its trackage rusty and its planking rotted.
        Then, last May, the Navy moved in.
        Straining to expand itself into a two-ocean fleet, preparing to meet any crisis in the Pacific, and rushing the development of its Alaskan sector, the Navy had need of a base in Seattle. Since 1920 its blueprints for national emergency had contemplated occupation of one or both Smith Cove piers, and last spring, it was busy translating such contingencies into fact.
        The Navy opened conversations with the Port of Seattle Commission, and 1 May leased the east half of Pier 41 for a year. Three months later it leased the rest of the 2,560-foot long, 345-foot wide strip of piling, concrete, and ballast rock.
        Things began happening the day the first lease was signed.
        Lieut. Comdr. Arthur H. Middleton, USNR, a submarine-chaser captain in WWar I, moved in the next day to take command. With him arrived officers, yeomen, seamen, carpenters, signalmen, and others.
        Pier 41, rechristened the 13th Naval District's Naval Operating Annex, once more is a place of hustle and bustle, playing a part in the maritime end of defense.
        It is a dual and increasingly vital role. As the Naval Section Base, the annex is providing berthing space--a whole mile of it––for little boats and big ships, providing maintenance and operating facilities for forty Navy vessels.
        As the Naval Supply Pier, the annex is keeping a large flotilla of ships supplied with the thousand and one things they need and is equipped to furnish supplies to 40 percent of the Navy's seagoing ships on the Pacific Coast.
        Huge stocks of food and other supplies are being built up in the Naval Supply Pier's two transit sheds, to care for the Navy's flock of small craft operating as the 13th Naval District Inshore Patrol, for ships plying between Seattle and the Alaskan sector, and for Navy activities within that sector.
        Piles of canned goods and staples are mounted around wooden posts still bearing the scrawled names of Kobe, Hong Kong, Shanghai, and other Oriental ports for which commercial cargo once was assembled at Smith Cove.
        One project is the signal tower at Pier 41's outboard tip. Part of an elaborate radio and communications center being installed at the base, it will be equipped with the latest visual-signal devices and will be able to signal to all points on Elliott Bay, acting partly as a traffic-control station for arriving and departing ships.
        The vessels this ambitious program is designed to serve are so numerous and of so many types that Pier 41 really has a navy all its own.
        The biggest and grimmest is the battle-gray gunboat Charleston, not actually based in Seattle, but berthed at the annex whenever she is in port.
        Built in 1936 with a sister ship, the Erie (they are the only two of their kind in the Navy), the gunboat is the largest patrol craft––3,000 tons––authorized by the London Naval Treaty of 1922. Four destroyers, the Kane, the Gilmer, the Brooke, and the Fox, call Seattle Section Base their home.
        Tied up near them when the Section Base "fleet" is in port are five auxiliary coastal minesweepers. Converted halibut boats, that bear the symbol "A.M." in white on their bows, and have been christened the Nightingale, the Pintail, the Crow, the Frigate Bird, and the Phoebe.
        There are mine-layers, nettenders, tankers, repair ships, patrol boats...Some, the "YP" type, are patrol vessels formerly with the salmon fleet, such as the Catherine D. before she joined the Navy as a floating repair shop and tender, ending a long career as a cannery tender.
        The locally famous "pickle boat," the Eagle No. 57, is there, and so is John Barrymore's former yacht, the Infanta, now as the U.S.S. Amber, with the most glamorous, if not aristocratic, the background of them all. Racks of mines rest on her stern deck, where Barrymore and his profile and his guests used to relax. The Navy calls the Amber a patrol yacht, and for some sentimental reason has left on the bridge her silver bell, inscribed as a gift to Barrymore from Delores Costello.
        Some of the forty ships of the Seattle Section Base will take part in the navy and Total Defense Day parade from Seattle to Tacoma and back. As ships are considered these days they are not big ships, but they are just as important to the Navy as its Lexingtons and North Carolinas. Pier 41, a peninsula with 40-ft of water around three sides, can berth the longest and deepest ships in the world, and its staff can handle them.
        Neat as a pin since the Navy men removed the equivalent of 127 railroad gondola carloads of trash and timbers, Pier 41 has come to life in a big way this year. As one of Seattle's most famous "world's biggest assets, it is ready to do a bigger and bigger bit for national defense."
Text from the Seattle Times, October 1941.







05 December 2021

❖ Oh–Oh, Where is the Captain's Ship?


L: Captain Otto Johnson, 
master of the real RELIANCE tug,
with a scale model he crafted.
R:  Churchill Griffiths, V-P of 
Washington Tug & Barge.
Photo dated June 1952.
Tap image to enlarge.
Low-res. scan of an original photo from the 
archives of the Saltwater People Historical Society©
Photo is back-stamped from the
Marine Salon /Williamson Collection.


This site has had archived photographs posted of finely crafted scale models of a sternwheeler, a ferry or two, and a few sailing ships. One of the latter class was a model of the Arthur Sewall three-master Henry Villard (1882-1929) eventually owned by James Griffiths and Sons. Keeping it in the family, we can now sponsor a tug boat model.
        This was a long time ago; we hope the story had a happy ending.
        The scale model of the Seattle tug Reliance went missing during dinner, much to the consternation of her owners and the committee which handled the Maritime Day Tug Boat Races.        
        The Reliance model was seen the evening of 24 May at the Seattle Yacht Club, during the awards dinner. She was on display along with winners' plaques and other mementos connected with the annual race.
        When the event was over, the Reliance was gone.
        Committee members suspected a joke and were confident she would soon turn up in some ludicrous situation as a "topper" for the gag.
        But, more than two weeks later, the whereabouts of the Reliance was still a nautical mystery.
        The two-foot, scale model was made by Capt. Otto Johnson, master of the real Reliance, which was owned at this time by the Washington Tug & Barge Co.
        The model had considerable sentimental value to Captain Johnson and other officials of the tug company. Churchill Griffiths, vice-president of the company, joined in a plea for the return of the small ship.
        Hollis Farwell was general chairman for the Maritime Day events and remarked "Let's just say the joke's over."
News source: The Seattle Times newspaper. 

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