CAPTAIN BEN JOYCE, FROM BOSTON TO ALASKA

 

Captain Benjamin Joyce,
(1879-1971)
Life long mariner.
Photograph dated 1952.
Reports of an interview below
by Seattle's Lucile MacDonald.
Original photo from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

When the historical writer, Lucile McDonald interviewed Capt. Ben Joyce for this essay in 1967, it had been 70 years since he had left home in Boston for a 14,300-mile voyage to St. Michael, Alaska, in a 122 ft halibut fishing boat.
        Around Seattle, it would be hard to find another old salt who could match this cruise through two hemispheres in so small a craft.
        Once upon a time, such voyages were fairly common, but most of the men who made them are long since gone. Captain Joyce began young, otherwise, he wouldn't be around to tell the tale.
        "in 1897, l was an office boy in Boston when we heard news of the big Klondike gold strike. No one knew where the Klondike was, but every young man wanted to go. The story of the arrival of the steamship Portland in Seattle with a ton of gold on board didn't lose any in the telling. I was 17 and I got gold fever with the rest."
        Joyce came from a line of sea captains and the tradition has been handed down to his sons, Capts. Emory and Ben Joyce Jr., and his grandson, Lieut. Comdr. Ben Joyce, in the Coast Guard, and Capt. Walter Hoopala, on a Foss tugboat in Vietnam.
        At the time when the first young Ben got itchy feet, his father, Capt. Hanson B. Joyce was employed by the New England Fish Co. as the supervisor of fishermen. He had been going to West Coast halibut fishing each winter since 1892, and returning home for the summers because there were no facilities for shipping fish across the continent in warm weather.
        In the spring of 1897, he was sent to Camden, M.J., to supervise construction of a new steam fishing boat, the NEW ENGLAND specially designed for catching halibut in the North Pacific. He was to see that it was the most efficient type for the work.
        "She looked like a towboat with two masts, Capt. Ben explained. She never used the sails, but had them for emergencies.
        "We wrote to father in Camden and told him I wanted to go to the gold rush. He said he'd do what he could to help me. He got me a job as a fireman on the NEW ENGLAND.
        When the steamer was finished, my father high-tailed it overland in December to the West Coast, this time taking Mother, my two sisters, and a brother along. This gave me family connections to come to.
        Young Ben went to Camden and joined the NEW ENGLAND to help take her to Boston.
         "On the way, the chief engineer decided I'd never make a fireman in this world or the next. I was called on the carpet by the president of the company. He told me they'd have to make an ordinary seaman out of me. The crew already was filled when they found another fireman, so I went as deckman, meaning I was available to do anything. There were 18 of us on board.
        We left Boston December 23 in bad weather and had to lie in at Woods Hole. From there to St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands was a nonstop run. We went in for coal and then left for Rio de Janeiro. We were sweeping the bunkers for fuel before we got in.
        I was shoveling coal most of the time that trip; the sailors had to move it to where it was within reach of the firemen. We had coal all over that boat, in the fish holds, and stacked on the deck. It had to be that way because the stops were few and far between.
        The weather was mostly fine all the way from Woods Hole to the Strait of Magellan. 

The INDEPENDANT
Landing halibut at Seattle, WA.
Postcard from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society 

We coaled again at Montevideo. We never went into any of these cities because of the shipping congestion. The coal always was lightered out to us and we'd be on our way as quickly as we could.
        We made the entrance of the Strait of Magellan at night and anchored until morning as there were no navigation lights in the passage. We'd gone into the Strait several hours when we saw a ship that looked to be on the beach. The captain thought she needed assistance, so we went over to her and found she was a Boston fishing schooner heading for Alaska.
        She was full of fishermen with gold fever. She needed no help; she was waiting for the wind. We visited with them all that day –– it was Sunday–– and we were under way the next morning and out of the strait that night into a storm on the West Coast. By then, we'd got all the deck coal down into the hold, where the firemen could handle it, so we made out all right."
         The next stops were at Talcahuano, Chile, and Callao, Peru, to refuel. Captain Joyce said by then he was "coal sick." He'd handled so much of it, along with the ash sent up in buckets and dumped overboard. Then on to San Francisco. The saving feature of the voyage was good food.
        The New England arrived at Vancouver, B.C. in March, almost three months to a day, from the Boston departure. Joyce's father was there to meet him, having just finished the halibut fishing season. He took over command of the boat for the rest of the voyage.
        "We were in Vancouver only about two days and then left for Seattle to pick up a tow of two river steamers for the Yukon. They were the ROCK ISLAND I and II."
        We used the Inside Passage when we could and headed for Dutch Harbor, where we fueled again and father arranged to tow two more river steamers to St. Michael after we delivered the pair we had.
        On the trip back from St. Michael, I had a new job – dishwasher and flunky. On the way north again, I was cook. I've done about everything."
        The NEW ENGLAND began halibut fishing out of Vancouver in the fall. Capt. Joyce became captain of her in 1912 and left her in 1916 for bigger vessels.
        Did he ever get to the gold rush?
        "Yes, I had to get that out of my system. It took five weeks. I went to the Atlin, sluiced about a month on Pine Creek, and got a few specks of gold dust in the bottom of a pill bottle."
        Joyce fished with his father on the NEW ENGLAND. She carried 12 dories and 24 fishermen They employed 350 hooks to a string and one day caught more than 200,000 pounds of halibut.
        "At first we hoisted them aboard by the tails, but that was too slow for father. He put cargo nets in the dories and hoisted them out full in one lift.
        The company allowed a fisherman 25 cents a fish when I began. Later we were getting 1.25 cents a pound. We worked sometimes from daylight to dark in the dories.
        The NEW ENGLAND was sold for junk late in the 1930s. Captain Joyce retired in 1955, but he still carried his steamboat license, the oldest one on the Pacific Coast.

Above words by Lucile MacDonald, Historian/ Author. Published by the Seattle Times. 1967.

Capt. Benjamin Irving Joyce (L)
and son, Capt. Emery Joyce
Celebrating the 91st  birthday 
of Capt. Benjamin.
Original photo from the archives of 
the Saltwater People Historical Society©

Many guests of honor had ridden with the captain on ships of the old Alaska Steamship Co passenger fleet. Joyce, who was born on an island off Maine, did most of his sailing out of Seattle. He received his masters papers in 1902 and was the oldest licensed master on the West Coast. The last time it was renewed, in 1965, the Coast Guard officer who signed it was Capt. Emory Joyce, one of three sons who became captains. 

The celebration was at the home of Emory Joyce, now a Puget Sound pilot.

Text by Jay Wells, from the Seattle Times. Published February 1970.

A NOTABLE DAY IN SAN JUAN HISTORY

 IMPRESSIVE EXERCISES AT AMERICAN AND BRITISH CAMPS

U.S. Monitor Wyoming 
with 200 officers and men 
even came back for the
 unveiling party. 
Click image to enlarge.
Antique postcard from the archives 
of the Saltwater People Log©

"The unveiling of the monuments at the American and British military camps, October 21, 1904, was a most notable occasion not only in the history of the county but of the PNW. The day was perfect and not a single incident occurred to detract from the pleasure of the exercises at either camp. 

Never before since the termination of the joint occupancy has there been so large a representation of the army and navy in the county, nor so large an assemblage of prominent people within its borders. If it were possible, or practicable, to assemble all the people of the county together in one place a vote of thanks would be unanimously tendered to the University Historical Society for having erected such appropriate monuments to make two of the most historical spots in the northwest.  Prof Meany, is the society's able and energetic secretary. 

Capt. Pickett was commander at American Camp. His cottage was removed to Friday Harbor after the termination of the joint occupancy and has ever since been the home of the well-known pioneer, Capt. Edward D. Warbass, who was Capt. Pickett's friend and companion for a number of years. 

Home of Capt. Delacombe and family.
He was the commander of the British Marines,
San Juan Island, WA.
Click the image to enlarge.
A low-res scan of an original gelatin-silver 
photograph from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historial Society©

Today we publish a picture of the more spacious residence of the commander at English Camp, showing Capt. Delacombe and his family on the porch. We understand that the captain is still living and for some years past he has occupied the position of high constable at Derby, England. The building was destroyed by fire about ten years ago. It occupied a most beautiful location on a wooded hill above Garrison Bay, overlooking the Canal de Haro and the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The monument erected Oct. 21 now marks the site. 

Following the program of exercises as they took place at the two camps:

AMERICAN CAMP

March from shore of Griffin Bay to American Camp.
Music by the artillery band.

"The United States Army," by Capt. McCloskey, commanding the troops from the Puget Sound artillery district.

Address by Hon. Geroge H. Williams, the present mayor of Portland, read by Prof. Maynard Lee Daggy, of the University of Washington.

Music by the artillery band.

BRITISH CAMP

March from the shore of Garrison Bay to British Camp.

Presiding officer––Judge Cornelius H. Hanford, of the United States district court. 

Unveiling of the monument: music by the Puget Sound artillery band––"America" or "God Save the King."

National salute by U.S.S. Wyoming.

Address of welcome by Rev. C.C. Pratt, of Friday Harbor.

"First United States Customs Officer at San Juan. After the Arbitration Decision," by Mr. Frank H. Winslow, president of the Washington Pioneers' Association. 

Letter from Gen. Hazard Stevens, special commissioner under President Grant to adjust claims by British landholders on the San Juan Islands, read by I. A. Nadeau, of Seattle.

Music by the artillery band. 

Greetings from Wisconsin State Historical Society by President Robert I. McCormick.

Address by Hon. Bernard Pelly, British vice-consul at Seattle.

Benediction by Rev. R.I. Bussabarger, of Seattle. 

March to the shore with music by the artillery band.

Source: Text from the San Juan Islander, 29 October, 1904."

LOG OF THE M.V. INDIAN – 1948

 

The M.V. INDIAN
dated 23 May 1948, 
home dock, Seattle, WA.
One or both Spring brothers 
 were on board the Indian for this trip
north and caught this shot 
of the waterfront at 5:30 a.m.
Click image to enlarge.
Original photo signed by
Bob and Ira Spring,
from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society.©

"Fifty-two ports along the 2,000 miles of Puget Sound shoreline receive regular calls from a small fleet of freight boats, and another 50 had docks at which occasional stops were made. The boats traveled south to Olympia and Shelton, and north to Bellingham and Powell River, B.C. There were six boats in the fleet, the Indian, Lovejoy, Seatac, Belana, Warrior, and Skookum Chief. The third name is derived from Seattle and Tacoma and the fourth name from Bellingham and Anacortes. The freight boats were of shallow draft. Most of them had a large lower deck that ran the full length and width of the boat. The freight was loaded on small sleds at the warehouses. These sleds were carried aboard by gasoline-driven lift trucks and placed on the long, lower deck. At the ports, the process reversed, the freight-laden sleds carried off to the docks. The boats carried crews of 12, including the skipper, other officers, deckhands, lift-truck drivers, and last but far from least important, the cook. 

Want to take a trip on one of these boats? Here is a sample log of the motor vessel Indian on one of its trips to Bellingham and the San Juan Islands, Washington State.

Monday, May 23 1948

5:30 a.m. left Pier 53, home dock in Seattle, loaded with general merchandise for Anacortes, Bellingham, and other ports. A photographer aboard.

6:15 a.m. Point Wells, unloaded empty oil drums and took on full ones.

10:50 a.m. Headed through the swift waters under Deception Pass Bridge.

1:20 p.m.

Arriving Bellingham waterfront
1:20 p.m. 
where the Osage was tied up
Photo by Bob and Ira Spring
From the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historial Society©

Tuesday 4:53 a.m. 

The Indian slips into Friday Harbor,
San Juan Archipelago, WA., 
4:53 a.m. as logged by the 
photographers, Bob/Ira Spring 
for this amazing shot. 
Click image to enlarge.
The M.V. VASHON is standing by
on the left border 
watching over new arrivals.
Original photo from the archives of the
Saltwater People Historical Society©

7:40 a.m. 

The INDIAN arrives at 7:40 a.m.
at Roche Harbor,
San Juan Island, WA., 
 to load sacks of lime 
from Roche Harbor Lime Works.
This original photo is dated May 1948
but the photographer is unknown.
Click image to enlarge.
From the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

9:45 a.m. Headed through Pole Pass (225 ft wide) between Orcas and Crane Island.

11:10 a.m. Arrive Anacortes, Skagit County, WA. The last stop on return home. General merchandise was unloaded at Anacortes Port dock."

From an article published by the Seattle Times. No byline.

Crew and officers aboard:

Homer Stroup, Master

Arie Millenaar, Mate

Merrill Fleck Quartermaster

William Carlson, Chief engineer

Other crew: M.H. Roen, Clyde Durham, John Barr, Erwin Duly, Clarence Ostrom, and cook Helen Scott. 

An Airplane Aboard

The KAYAK

A floating cannery on Lake Union, Seattle,
with one bright red seaplane 
attracting attention.
Photograph dated Oct. 1951 
by Harold Smith 
Click image to enlarge.
from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

A ship with a seaplane on deck attracted considerable interest among persons traveling along the east side of Lake Union.

        The ship, the Kayak, a floating cannery that had recently returned from Alaska waters. 

        The plane was used to keep in touch with land, for such purposes as carrying mail for the fishermen. 

        The Kayak was operated by the Kayak Packing Co. which was owned by Stanley B. Dahl, Dick Wilson, and Jack Most.

Text from the Seattle-Times

FRIDAY HARBOR SHIPBUILDERS

Noted Friday Harbor Shipbuilders

Shipbuilder Frank Jensen
Dated 1960

Admiring a photo of his boat VERDUN
built in 1919
for himself and his brother Joseph.
Click image to enlarge.
original photo from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

A family tradition that reaches well back into the 19th Century, was carried on at Friday Harbor, in the San Juan Islands. The shipyard of Albert Jensen & Sons, Inc., was a Jensen family enterprise since the early days of the island’s settlement.
      Nourdine Jensen, the last owner of the company was the third generation of Jensen family boat-builders. His father was boatbuilder, Albert Jensen.
      Nourdine’s grandfather, Benjamin Jensen, was a shipbuilder in Bergen, on the north coast of Norway, in the 1860s and 70s. He also sailed some, making several trips to Canada. Finally, he came to the New World for good and settled on San Juan Island in 1883. With him were his sons Joe, Albert, Frank, and Pete.
      At the time of this interview, Frank Jensen was 86, and retired. He was keeping up his interest in the activity at the shipyard, making occasional trips to “see how things are going.”
      The Jensens lived for a while at San Juan Town, or “Old Town,” as it was called by the old-timers. After three months there, the family moved to a farm on Griffin Bay, building a house on a spit just below the bay now known as Jensen Bay.
      Along with their farming, Benjamin and his four sons began building a few boats, almost as a sideline. The “sideline” turned into a regular thing, but Frank Jensen recalled they never considered that they were running an organized business.
       “We were no company at all,” Jensen said. “We just built boats.”
      Among the boats the Jensen “just built” were the sailing ships NORTH STAR and the NELLIE JENSEN. The NELLIE JENSEN, on the ways for three years, was the largest sailing vessel the family built. It was 59 feet long, and carried a crew of five. Later it was given a steam engine.
      Other early vessels they built were the steamships GRIFFIN, MESSENGER, and the VALIANT
      The last boat to be built at Jensen Bay was the Adventurer. The NELLIE JENSEN burned to the water, years ago, off Dungeness while carrying a cargo of shingles. The GRIFFIN was wrecked and is on the bottom of Lake Washington. The VALIANT was lost on the beach at California, and another Jensen boat was wrecked in Alaska on the Chignik River.
      Jensen says he doesn’t know of a single life being lost in any of these mishaps.
      In 1901, Frank Jensen got the gold fever and went to Alaska. He never struck it rich but worked for wages shoveling dirt. He didn’t stay long in Alaska. Years later, he made another trip to Alaska, landing at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. By 9 o’clock that night, he was on his way back to Seattle.

      In 1905, Frank married and a few years later, moved to Friday Harbor. About this time, the family became involved in a sawmill operation, but before long the Jensens were back to building boats again. In 1910, they acquired property on a bay a mile south of town and built the shipyard which was long in operation.
      Frank and Joe married sisters, Emily and Alice Guard. When Joe died, his wife, Alice, stayed on with Frank and Emily Jensen in the country place Frank built east of the shipyard, across from Turn Island. The Jensens lived in that house 29 years.

The ISLANDER,

new launching at Jensen's Yard
Friday Harbor, San Juan Island,
all dated 1921.
Click image to enlarge.
The work crew is so far unidentified.
Can you help?

      One of the largest boats the family ever built, and no doubt the best known, was the ISLANDER––a 106 ft freight and passenger boat. The business “Life Line” of the San Juans for many years, the ISLANDER made regular trips through the islands from Anacortes and Bellingham.

clips courtesy of the
Friday Harbor Journal.
Click image to enlarge.

      Later, the ISLANDER was sold to the Puget Sound Freight Lines and renamed the MOHAWK.

Cannery tender NEREID
Moored in her home port of Friday Harbor.
Jensen built in 1911.
Original photo from the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

      The first boat built at the new yard was the NEREID, a boat used for decades by the Friday Harbor Canning Company. Julia Jensen says the NEREID also was designed by her husband and was his favorite of the boats built by the family.
      During WW II, Albert Jensen and Sons built a fleet of 36-ft tugboats and a dozen wooden barges for the war effort. Another shipyard started up during the war adjacent to the Jensen yard. Both companies specialized in building pleasure boats in the under 90-ft category, as well as fishing boats, and occasionally other types of craft.
      A recent Jensen boat that attracted the attention of numerous boating journals was the 55-ft MECO, built for Archie Morgan, of a Seattle electrical contracting firm.
      Altogether, Nourdine estimates his company built about 50 boats of more than 20 ft each in the years since the war, for an average of two and one-half boats a year.

      Nourdine’s brother, Frits, carried on the family tradition as a prominent Seattle naval architect.
      Frank Jensen was one of the county’s longtime residents. He recalled the island’s settlers well and could recite the names of all the farmers and businessmen who had “places” on San Juan at the end of the past century.
      Frank doesn’t consider that his family pioneered in the usual sense; he recalls there was very little vacant land left on the island when they arrived.
      Of all the Jensen-built boats, Frank’s favorite was the one built for his own use, the 40-ft VERDUN (pronounced with the accent on the first syllable.) He made four or five trips to Alaska with her and has sailed her  throughout the San Juan Islands many times.
      When he was home, Frank kept it anchored in the bay off Turn Point, where it was a familiar sight for many years. Next, the VERDUN saw service in the San Juans as a fishing and workboat owned by Sherman Thompson of Deer Harbor, Orcas Island.

Words by the late author, historian David Richardson, formerly of San Juan and Orcas Islands in the Archipelago. Published by the Seattle Times.

The Port of Friday Harbor purchased the Jensen Shipyard which was reported here.

 

TROUBLED WATERS ... A Sea Story

 

Guemes Island author
Syd Stapleton's 
new novel is set in
Anacortes and the 
San Juan Archipelago, WA.

Reading a book in your own backyard seems to give it a little extra spark. Syd Stapleton, a former ferry captain, landing craft relief skipper, and tugboat worker, among many other hats, has just released a new novel, Troubled Waters, set in Anacortes and the San Juan Islands. Locals will recognize old haunts such as Marine Hardware and The Brown Lantern. Others are given aliases but may be familiar to some long-time residents. 

        The hero of Troubled Waters is Frank Tomasini, a 47-year-old marine surveyor who lives comfortably on his boat, the Molly B, a 1937 salmon troller, which has been lovingly refurbished by its former owner, Harlan Brown, who also happens to be Frank’s best friend. When Frank is asked to unofficially survey the damage to a boat found adrift and abandoned near San Juan Island, he learns the owner, Arthur Middleton, a rich and holier-than-though environmental warrior, has disappeared. His boat, the Sound Avenger, may have been sabotaged. Ironically, the only thing that kept it from sinking was a bit of floating trash, which blocked enough water from getting in to keep it afloat.
       More alarming is that neither the local police nor Arthur’s own estranged brother, a powerful business shark with a wide net (forgive the sea pun), seem interested in finding Arthur, who was not exactly a beloved figure in the community. Although Frank and Arthur were not the best of friends, Arthur’s unexplained disappearance nags at Frank. Soon he has enlisted Harlan’s help in unraveling the mystery behind both Arthur’s vanishing and the forces behind it. They follow a trail that winds through a dive bar full of salty locals, a dying fish farm, a wreck-filled marina, several local islands, and quite a few bottles of Laphroaig. Stapleton’s writing style could be called sea-noir, with enough careful attention to detail to immerse readers in the charm and changeability of the Northwest. It even manages to make the idea of living in very tight quarters on a former fishing boat seem downright desirable. There are flashes of humor amidst the drama and Frank’s narrative is both self-deprecating and clever. Frank and Harlan’s friendship avoids the feeling of a smug bromance, instead showing a deep and caring friendship. 
       The scenes with Frank’s new buddy Alan, a young Scottish biologist with an amazing capacity for scotch – reading a book set in our own backyard seems to give it a little extra whiskey, while adding moments of lightness.
       Troubled Waters is an environmental disaster story cloaked in a whodunit. The mystery is not so much the what or why, but the who and the how, especially how corporate polluters continue to get away with ruining the ecosystem with little to no oversight. While the novel doesn’t moralize, it does show the danger of indifference, of waiting for someone else–like the obnoxious Arthur Middleton–to deal with things, 
even if his righteous anger needs to get its priorities straight.
       As in any good sea story, both the Molly B and the sea play important roles. While Frank does some land-based sleuthing, the action intensifies on the water. The Molly B is Frank’s sea-wife, described with vivid detail from its gleaming wood to the pantry, always well-stocked with coffee and alcohol. Troubled Waters relies on nautical terminology as well as comprehensive geography of the waters of the San Juan Islands, Stapleton weaves them in with seamless authenticity, but for those who 
need further explanations, there is a glossary of nautical terms in the back of the book.
       Like the Molly B, the story moves at a steady pace, giving us time to meet a colorful collection of characters, as well as conveying Frank’s secrets and his complicated relationship with Carol, an old friend turned lover. Like any good mystery, the more Frank learns, the more dangerous things get for him, threatening both his livelihood and his life. But like any good seaman, Frank has a brave and dedicated crew of friends to help him navigate this tale. 

Review by Betty Passerelli 

Troubled Waters is currently available at Amazon and your independent bookstore.

DEER HARBOR RENDEZVOUS...2024--- ORCAS ISLAND

2024 WOODEN BOAT RENDEZVOUS 
DEER HARBOR MARINA,
ORCAS ISLAND, WA.
TUESDAY 3 SEPTEMBER 2024

 The 2024 Wooden Boat Rendezvous in Deer Harbor will be held on Tuesday, September 3, at Deer Harbor Marina on Orcas Island. The Rendezvous is a gathering of wooden boats, owners, friends, and enthusiasts. Some of the finest wooden boats in the region are expected to be present. The Rendezvous is an opportunity for fellowship, story-sharing, and enjoyment of the wooden boat tradition in the beautiful setting of Deer Harbor. There will be free viewing of the boats on the docks and all are welcome.

Most boats start to arrive on Monday and slip reservations can be made by clicking on the green "make a reservation" button on the link listed below. Please do not call or email for reservations unless you have a specific question or need help as it is peak season and the marina is fielding a lot of calls. Discounted moorage is available.

Please see their website for more information. Here

SLOUGHFAIR FOR SEATTLE SEAFAIR - - - - 1962

 

SLOUGHFAIR RAFT RACE

"This "efficient" change of crew didn't help the
Ballard entry but it amused the crowd
watching the annual Seafair Raft Race. 
The Sultan Loggers won the 14-mile 
race from Redmond to Bothell. 
The Renton raft was awarded the best
 theme trophy for depicting a sternwheeler.
Exclusive photo and caption dated 30 July 1962
 by Greater Seattle News Bureau
from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

SLOUGHFAIR

"The Sixth Annual Sloughfair Trophy Race, July 1962, one of Seattle's wildest and wackiest events was held on the Sammamish Slough for a 14-mile chase from Redmond to Bothell. Crews consisted of up to 7 people; the locomotion – poles and paddles. Robert Carlson was race chairman in 1962.

These other events were also held:

CRUISER RACE, a predicted-log race for powerboats from Cadboro Bay, through the San Juans, Deception Pass, and finish at Pier 91, Seattle, WA., a distance of ca. 100 miles.

OUTBOARD RACES,

Whidbey Island Outboards Marathon Races. North of the city, the eighth annual around Whidbey Island outboard marathon race with 8 classes for the 108-mile chase.

The SEAFAIR GREENLAKE REGATTA had outboards taking over Green Lake. Harold Tolforn chaired the outboard races and Ted Knutson, the inboard races.

LONG LAKE, six miles south of Port Orchard had 10 classes to battle in the Northwest Division, sanctioned by American Power Boat Association had a long list of entries. More than 150 drivers from eight western states and Canada showed up for the divisional on Long Lake.

Above text courtesy of The Seattle Times, 1962

The Fantastic Voyage of the ELIZA ANDERSON

Sidewheeler Eliza Anderson
ON 7967
Built in Portland, Oregon in 1859.
This photograph, undated. 
Credit line to the 
Steamship Historical Society of America, Inc.
7967-1859.
Photo postcard from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

"She was the ungainliest vessel ever to undertake such a daunting journey. The voyage was to be her last, and for her passengers, the terrors of near-disaster on the open seas briefly erased whatever desire for gold that prompted them to rush for the Klondike.

Her name was the Eliza Anderson, a sidewheel steamboat built before the Civil War. Operated in the fall of 1897 by the Alaska Commercial Co, the relic was one of a polyglot collection of ships hastily gathered to meet the unprecedented demand engendered by the Yukon gold rush. Her destination was St. Michael, Alaska – 850 miles from Seattle via the North Pacific to Kodiak, thence 650 miles to Unalaska, navigating 750 miles on the turbulent Bering Sea. At St. Michael, the passengers would rendezvous with riverboats for the additional 1,700-mile journey up the Yukon to Dawson City.

In Seattle, hoots and jeers of on-lookers greeted the incredulous passengers who had paid exorbitant rates for passage on the all-water route. Typical of the feverish times, the ungainly 140-foot-long sidewheeler was sorely overloaded. Wooden-hulled and 279 gross tons, the Eliza Anderson was built in 1859 in Portland, OR. She now hardly inspired confidence, propelled by ancient sidewheels in cumbersome paddle boxes, her 25-foot beam and nine-foot depth designed for shallow northwest rivers. That she would risk a 2,300-mile ocean voyage speaks of the audacity of her owners, the gold fever of the public, and the prowess of her officers.

In charge was Capt. Tom Powers, a seasoned Atlantic skipper persuaded two former shipmates to join him - Capt. Arthur Leighton, as a first mate, and Capt. Bill Tedford, as second officer. They commanded a motley collection of able seamen well-versed in meeting the exigencies of the high seas. It was the experience that compensated for the vessel's woeful inadequacy, for the Eliza Anderson lacked modern boilers, water condensers, and electricity. Her top speed was barely eight knots an hour. To augment her meager carrying capacity, she was joined by the ocean-going tug Richard Holyoke, which towed the large Politkofsky a cut-down, 1866-vintage Russian man-of-war, the river steamer W.K. Merwin, and Seattle businessman John Hansen's pleasure yacht Bryant. The Eliza Anderson Expedition was underway, and an odd cavalcade it was.

By the time they reached the first leg up the Inside Passage to Metlakatla, AK, the decrepit condition of the Eliza Anderson was manifest. Passenger discontent, however, got nowhere with Capt. Powers, who bluntly announced that passage would not be refunded to anyone who left ship before St. Michael. What fight his passengers possessed, promptly dissipated into seasickness as the ancient craft and her retinue lumbered through Dixon Entrance into open sea.

Five days later, black storm clouds loomed as the expedition entered Kodiak. There she commenced coaling, while cannery and government port officials vainly remonstrated with Capt. Powers to wait out the gathering storm. Vowing to make St. Michael on schedule regardless of weather, the Eliza Anderson cast off followed by the Richard Holyoke and her triple tow. Their departure was observed by five passengers who had lost their appetite for gold-seeking and abandoned the expedition.

And now the terror began, as the antiquated sidewheeler struggled in the growling swells. Like a child's toy, she skidded and tossed, wallowing in the troughs, threatening to be crushed at any moment by the massive waves sweeping across her. Kerosene lamps were extinguished in the social hall, as knots of frightened passengers huddled in the darkness to exchange solace, liquor, or prayers.

The superstructure cracked and groaned, the pumps choked with coal dust and the hold threatened to fill with water. China pumps were jury-rigged and manned by shifts of passengers anxious to do something active for the preservation of the vessel and their lives. The port rudder chain parted, and steering was restored only by the precariously accomplished rigging of relieving tackle.

On the second day of the storm, rockets were ordered fired, but the Eliza was separated from her accompanying tow. As the storm intensified, word came from the engine room that the coal supply was nearing depletion. As doors, furniture, and partitions, were ripped down for the furnace, two stewards boys were lashed to the bow structure to dash cups of crude oil against the on-rushing waves. Helpful for a while, this supply, eventually ran out. 

At this juncture, with all but one lifeboat swept away, and the skipper preparing to order abandonment of the ship, that a storybook miracle occurred. A powerfully built stowaway with the visage of an ancient Norse mariner emerged from somewhere out of the cramped, reeling ship. Making his way to the pilothouse, he wrested control of the wheel from the astonished mate, turned the Eliza Anderson around, and made straight for the rock-lined shore of Kodiak Island. Just as disaster seemed imminent, the beleaguered vessel rounded a point and entered a sheltered cove, the size of an abandoned cannery. Later he vanished when the grateful passengers sought to present their mysterious savior with a collected reward. 

After completing repairs and hauling a coal supply aboard from an on-shore bunker, the Eliza Anderson limped into Unalaska. Ther the company purser ordered the ship abandoned due to lack of coal and the absence of the Politkofsky. Fearing the sidewheeler lost with all hands, the towline skipper aboard the Holyoke had reported the loss at Unalaska and had steamed on for St. Michael the week before. While Capt. Powers colored the air with rage, vowing St. Michael would otherwise have been reached on schedule, his trusted mates and exhausted passengers and crew transferred to the whaling schooner Baranoff. The Klondikers would reach their goal, albeit a year later, after a winter spent in steamboats locked in Yukon River ice. Others with a change of heart departed immediately for Seattle, spilling the story of the Eliza Anderson's fantastic voyage to eager newspapermen.

And what became of the Eliza? Beached and forgotten, the relic of a bygone era, she was quickly stripped of anything salvageable. But she had weathered the storm, a fitting climax to a long career of Pacific Northwest service, and a wonderous footnote to the story of the Klondike Gold Rush."

Words by Scott Eckberg for The Sea Chest, membership journal of the
Puget Sound Maritime Society, Seattle, WA.

LOCATING THE SITE FOR THE BREMERTON NAVY YARD ❖ ❖ 1889

BREMERTON NAVY YARD 
crop of a 3-panel
photograph by Romans, 1908.
click on image to enlarge. 
from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

"The need for a first-class navy yard on the PNW coast of the USA was eagerly desired by the Navy Department. When the “White Fleet” consisting of the cruisers Chicago, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Yorktown, were being built or would be building. A commission of navy officers was appointed by the President to proceed to Puget Sound and adjacent waters and pick out the most available place for a naval station.
      The personnel of the commission appointed were the late Capt. A.T. Mahan, USN., the celebrated writer on "Sea Power;" Commander Chester, the present retired rear admiral; and Lieutenant Commander Stockton, afterward, rear admiral. The late Rear Admiral Uriel Sebree, USN, who was at that time Lighthouse Inspector of the 13th District (now the 17th District) was added to the above-named commission
       On their arrival at Seattle, they boarded the Lighthouse steamer Manzanita, commanded by Capt. Charles Richardson with William E. Gregory, first officer, the late Harry C. Lord, chief engineer, and Alfred Rickards, assistant engineer. On the day following their arrival at Seattle, the Manzanita left the ocean dock (now Pier B) and steamed towards Port Townsend, Port Angeles, and Dungeness.
        After having examined these places the Manzanita proceeded to Fairhaven where a stop was made. A committee of citizens presented to the officers for their approval what they termed an ideal site for a navy yard— a place called Chuckanut. From Fairhaven the Manzanita steamed through Ship Harbor, Deception Pass, and the site of Everett, thence returning to Seattle for mail and supplies.
        On the following Monday morning, the Manzanita again left Seattle and proceeded to Tacoma, where a delegation of prominent businessmen boarded the steamer and requested the naval committee to investigate Gig Harbor and Quarter Master Harbor in that vicinity, as they thought either of the locations mentioned would be a good place to locate the naval station. After examining the two sites, the Manzanita proceeded to Olympia and Nisqually Flats before again returning to Seattle. Here a group of the leading men of the town boarded the steamer and requested the naval committee to inspect the waters of Lakes Union and Washington.
        With the Seattle delegation on board, the Manzanita steamed down to the entrance to Shilshole Bay, where the party boarded a steam launch to be taken through Salmon Bay, and to land about where the municipal bridge is now, and walked to Lake Union where another launch took the party to Lake Washington. A portage was made to Lake Washington, where the old sidewheeler Kirkland was waiting; on boarding her, the Kirkland proceeded through the lake, stopping at intervals to allow soundings to be taken under the direction of Capt. Pratt of the Coast Survey, first mate Gregory, and Capt. Harris, a junior officer of the coast survey steamer Gedney, later of the Pacific Coast Steamship Co. On board the Kirkland, a most elaborate luncheon was served with champagne, cocktails, etc, with very much evidence showing even at the time of 1889, that the “Seattle Spirit” was flourishing. The greatest depth of water found by the Manzanita’s leadsman on board the Kirkland was thirty-eight fathoms. The lake was thoroughly surveyed a short time ago by the coast survey and probably deeper water was found.
        A few days later, the Manzanita steamed to Port Orchard, where a short visit was made to the wharf at Sidney, the present Port Orchard, and one or two prominent men of that village were taken on board when the Manzanita steamed over to the other side of the bay and anchored off the site of “the Bremerton Navy Yard.” All members of the commission were landed and walked up the hill to a small white house, centering in about an acre of cleared ground, and held a conversation with the occupant of the house. One can look back and see the little white farmhouse and the wild trees, bushes, and vegetation of the place at the time, and then glance at the magnificent navy yard that is there now with its immense dry docks, wharves, repair shops, marine barracks, storehouses, etc., with some of the largest and finest battleships in the world either anchored in the Bay in or lying alongside the immense wharves and thousands of workmen employed the year around looking after the needs of these battleships and the other units of the USN —and wonder.
        On the return of the Manzanita from Seattle the naval commission left for the City of Washington where they submitted a voluminous report to the Secretary of the Navy with their findings that Bremerton was their choice for a site for a naval station. The Bay had plenty of deep anchorages and the whole place could be easily defended; besides it was close to a growing and thriving town –– Seattle, where plenty of artisans and workmen could be obtained.
        When the report, sent from Washington, reached the northwest, certain interests immediately went to work to block the location and the opposition became so intense that President Harrison appointed another commission to go over the same ground and to report their finding as soon as possible. This commission was composed of Captain (later Admiral) Selfridge, USN, Senator Tom Platt of New York, and Ex-Secretary of the Navy Thompson. Once more the Lighthouse steamer Manzanita was detailed to convey people over the same course the proceeding commission had traveled. Once more the second group endorsed the site that the first commission had chosen – Bremerton.
        After the usual delays, work was at last started on the new naval station, the old sloop of war Nipsic was anchored in the Bay about opposite where the first dry dock was being built under the direction of Lieut. White, USN, civil engineer in charge, Commander Morong, in command of the Nipsic, with Liut. R. C. Hollyday assistant. The contractors for the drydock work were Messrs. Balow, Blackwell, and Dugan. The first drydock was built of lumber and was known as the Simpson plan.
        After the work had been underway, a difference of opinion in driving the pilings arose between the engineer in charge and the contractors. Work was stopped until the arrival of the Secretary of the Navy, H.A. Herbert. The Lighthouse tender Manzanita was detailed to take the Secretary and party on board... On the arrival of this group, the Secretary of the Navy's flag was hoisted to the main truck, so to the little lighthouse tender Manzanita goes the honor of bearing the Secretary of the Navy's flag for the first time it was shown in the Pacific Coast northwest waters, Secretary Herbert being the first Secretary of the Navy to officially visit the northwest.
        The first step after the tender left Seattle was at Port Townsend where an address of welcome was made by Judge H.A. Ballinger. The next stop was at Fairhaven. From there, the Manzanita returned to Seattle while the Secretary and his party went to Everett via the Great Northern. The Secretary's party joined the Manzanita when they returned to Seattle and the following day the tender proceeded to Bremerton. On arrival at the Navy Yard, the Secretary immediately got in touch with the engineer in charge, and the contractors and a pile were placed in position, ready for driving.

        The first pile driven, while the Secretary was looking on, was 20 feet long and was struck 84 blows and the penetration was only 7.5 feet. The second pile was about the same length and was struck with the same number of blows but it ceased to go down any further. The specifications called for the piles to be struck with an 8000-pound hammer in a fall of 25 feet, they would not sink over one-quarter of an inch the last blow.

        The finding of the Secretary was that the contractors must try to drive the piles deeper and proceed with the plan as insisted on by the engineer in charge.

        A luncheon on board the Nipsic was next and four musicians discoursed some excellent music. The Nipsic will be remembered for the heroic struggle she made during the hurricane at Samoa when the United States frigates Trenton and Vandalia were wrecked and some of their crews were lost. Two German corvettes were also lost and the old Nipsic was driven ashore, but was afterward hauled off.

        The Manzanita with the party on board returned to Seattle and the following morning left for Tacoma. Here the Secretary was taken in charge by the reception committee and he had "resources" talked to him till his eyes stuck out, and the trip to and around Quartermaster Harbor and back to Tacoma he listened to the praises of the State of Washington, Tacoma, and Puget Sound. 

        The following day the Secretary and his party left over the Great Northern for Washington and the Manzanita returned to her regular lighthouse duties."

Captain William E. Gregory
writer of this essay on 
locating the site of the 
Bremerton Navy Yard,
1889.
Original photograph
from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Hist. Soc.©

Words by Captain William E. Gregory, once a widely-known master of the North Pacific.

This abridged essay was published by an unknown Seattle newspaper and also by the Marine Digest, Seattle, in 1927. 

This hand-typed document is from Capt. Gregory's estate, courtesy of descendant Dan MacGillivary for the Saltwater People Historial Society. 

US Navy Repair Ship MEDUSA
Launched on the 32 anniversary 
of the establishment of the 
Puget Sound Naval Shipyard,
abstract of title to the Navy Yard property,
 having been delivered to Lt. Wyckoff, 
 acting for the Secretary of the Navy,
on 16 April 1891.
Building cost, $4,000,000.
483' 10.5" LOA, 70' x 19' (loaded)
Displacement tonnage ca. 10,000 . 
Original photo from the archives of the
Saltwater People Historical Society©
U.S.S. Medusa notes from H.W. McCurdy's Marine History 
of the Pacific Northwest. Superior. 1966

Bremerton Navy Yard
Dated 22 June 1931.
FAST WORKERS 

This year the cruiser Louisville was built 
in record time for construction of cruisers, 
and now a new record for speedy work in 
building a new reinforced concrete dry dock,
652 ft long and 120 ft wide in only four months.
The project was approved by Congress as part 
of the emergency construction program to relieve
unemployment. The average number of men 
employed was 23 and the maximum was 310.
The project involved the demolition of an old timber 
dock and building of the new one, 13 ft longer, 
in its place, at $400,000.
Associated Press Photo
From the archives of the
Saltwater People Historical Society©

PUGET SOUND NAVY YARD
Photo dated 6 April 1945
USS SUWANEE

A day ahead of schedule, the war-battered
escort carrier USS Suwanee noses up to a pier 
at the Puget Sound Navy Yard in 
Bremerton, WA., for repairs and a 
thorough overhaul. So rapid was the 
refitting the crew had no time to go out on
"stateside leave," which is usually a feature of 
visits back to the US by Navy warships. 
The Suwanee was hit by three Japanese bombs 
in the Battle for Leyte Gulf, 
24 to 26 October 1944.
An official photograph and text by the U.S. Navy,
File number 48650
from the archive of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

BREMERTON NAVY YARD
Dated 23 April 1948
MOTHBALL FLEET AT MOORAGE
Click image to enlarge.
These inactivated ships, described by 
Navy officials as the largest 
"mothball fleet" of major vessels at any 
navy yard, lie at naval shipyard piers here.
Fron to rear carriers, Essex, Ticonderoga,
Yorktown, Lexington, Bunker Hill. 
Left background, battleships, cruisers,
destroyers; extreme center background,
carrier Bon Homme Richard. 
AP Wirephoto from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

Bremerton, Washington.
Dated 23 April 1962
The aircraft carrier Kearsarge 
enters the world's largest drydock located
at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard. 
Built for $23 million, and big enough
 to hold the largest battleship 
man has ever built, the drydock was 
dedicated today.
Click image to enlarge. 
AP Wire photo from the archives of 
the Saltwater People Historical Society©

22 October 1971
The battleship MISSOURI,
 attracted more than 185,000
to the Naval Shipyard at 
Bremerton last year, was moved 
into drydock to have her hull scraped 
and painted –– a $350,000 project.
The Japanese signed surrender papers
on the ship 7 September 1945, 
ending WW II.
Commissioned in June 1944, the 
Missouri steamed more than 500,000 mi
during WW II and the Korean War. 
The Missouri was decommissioned in Feb. 1955.
Original photo from the archives of 
the Saltwater People Historical Society©

        

BIG PACKARD ENGINES RUNNING FOR HOME.

 

The San Juan Islands
Souvenir Year Book
1930
Published by the
San Juan Islands 
Publicity Bureau
Anacortes, WA.
Click to enlarge.
Original booklet from the 
S.P.H.S. library.

"Even though this was just another trip among the hundreds that we had already made, the adrenalin was burning my stomach sour, it always did, even when the load was gone. Everything done now was done with careful thought; there could be no mistakes. Cold –– it was always cold and dark this time of year in the late afternoon, and the dawn was hours away. Good weather for what we were doing. The mist was swirling about us, visibility only a few hundred yards; the problem was, it worked both ways. The cutter could happen upon us as easily as not, then it would be a desperate run to get out of range and out of sight.

The diesel is muffled and quiet at this speed; the exhaust is muted due to its location beneath the sea; however, if we have to start the big Packards, all that will change. They are warm and should start instantly; we run them up once every hour until we have crossed the line somewhere between D'Arcy Island and San Juan. The darkness pulls at my eyes; we cannot afford the luxury of going below decks, for the winter tide brings out the deadheads. We are loaded with one hundred and fifty cases of scotch whisky that is to be delivered just south of Anacortes tonight.

I turn my head slightly so that I see out of the side of my eye; peripheral vision picks up any small change in light, and it has been as black as the inside of a barrel for what seems like hours. Turn Point slides by on the starboard side, and if we had running lights the keeper would see us, but we are not advertising and it is doubtful that even if anyone knew we were here they would not see us - no lights, muffled exhaust, and a hull painted a dark maroon that blends into the blackness.

It has taken hours to work our way to the rendezvous point, but at least the unloading will warm us up. A shaded light flashes from the shore, twice rapidly and once after a pause - tonight's signal. We drop the anchor and wait for the smaller boat to come out to us. It takes four trips to carry all the cargo ashore, but so far it has been an easy trip, the tide is out, and with any luck, we should be back in Victoria Harbor by dawn.

Now clear of the area, it is time to start the big Packard aircraft engines and run for home; daylight is not a good time to be seen in these waters. I start up the first engine; the noise always surprises me, and the second engine is that much louder. The surge of power throws the boat ahead; we are doing twenty knots with another fifteen in reserve. If the weather holds; if the Coast Guard cutter hasn't planned an ambush; if we don't tear a hole in the hull on a deadhead; if we don't take out a prop on driftwood, it will be a piece of cake. My eyes strain to see the water ahead, watching for the kelp that mark reefs and the debris that every winter tide pulls off the beach; the wind tears at my face and the cold is penetrating; the temperature can only be a few degrees above freezing. Every fourth or fifth wave sends bullets of icy spray back over the wheelhouse; the steering window is open and the spray cuts like a knife. The fog is lifting and the wind has begun to pile the waves into ever-increasing humps that we feel through our legs.

US Coast Guard 
ready for action during prohibition years, 
near Anacortes, Skagit County, WA.
Click to enlarge and view the foredeck.
Photo from the archives of the 
Saltwater People Historical Society©

The light is coming up behind us and the Coast Guard cutter stands out from the land as it rounds the point ahead – he must have been laying in Roche Harbor. The cutter can only hope to sandwich us against South Pender; he knows he can't outrun us, but if he can get close enough to use his one-pound cannon we could be in trouble. We have sea room to manoeuvre and I run the boat up to thirty knots, at this speed, the impact of each wave hammers up through the hull and adds to the din of the engines in full race. A round from the one-pounder raises a plume of water slightly behind us off the port side, the sound drowned by the howl of the engines. We are gaining ground but a turn to the southwest is necessary very soon. We have the distance and the boat heels as the rudder throws us to the starboard lean and we make the turn to port that will take us across Haro Strait. Today we will not return to Victoria, that would just lead to awkward questions from the customs people.

We are out of range and I bring the power back to the twenty-knot cruise range that will give us time to steer around any debris. It would have been nice to have avoided the encounter with the Coast Guard, we could have gone quietly home to a hot bath and to relax. Our extended journey is part of the price we must pay. It will be an hour before my ears stop ringing from the thunderous howl of the big power plants."

Words by Richard S. Soley
Vintage Vessels of British Columbia
Power and Sail, Work and Pleasure

The Classic Wooden Boats of a Bygone Era.

Book donated by the crew of the 1930 Geary-designed Danae, featured with a Rigging Card within this book.