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| Capt. Sam Barlow 1870-1938 |
“A colorful sea captain named Sam Barlow grew up on Lopez Island. Some of the old-timers in the islands still remember him when he captained the old steamer, ROSALIE and later the Black Ball Line’s first ferry, ROSARIO. And small wonder. In stormy weather Captain Sam would wear, instead of his conventional Captain’s hat, a black felt hat with a broad rim so he could more easily pick up certain echoes from the islands. The unorthodox hat proved particularly helpful on foggy days in the pre-radar era. Suddenly his uncanny sense of hearing and an unbelievable sense of smell would come into full play. Somehow the ship he skippered, the rocks nearby, the heavily timbered shorelines he hugged-even the currents which baffled most mariners—became to Sam Barlow––close friends. Ultimately this man was to bear the moniker of THE DEAN OF MARINERS ON PUGET SOUND!
Sam, the boy, was one of the youngest of the Barlow family’s ten children. At his home on beautiful Barlow Bay (named after his father), he learned a lot about sailing from his father. He’d often gaze out at the sparkling sea and dream of a day when he’d be commanding his own vessel through the intricate passages around Lopez and the other islands. But first young Sam endured quite a hair-raising adventure for a sea-smitten kid. It seems that it all began when a stranger offered the boy twenty dollars to transport him from Oak Bay on Vancouver Island to a certain point on Whidbey Island.
Sam felt as if he’d just been offered a gold nugget. He had access to one of his father’s boats so the man and the boy made a deal. The first trip was a success and young Sam collected his money. But a little later the same man asked Sam to take him and some mysterious ‘baggage’ on the same trip. This time everything went wrong, including a storm at sea. The sailboat started to ship water and it was about to be swamped. Sam went to work to fight for his boat and his life. But his passenger was more concerned about the ‘baggage’.
Sam told the man something like this. “It takes only twenty pounds to keep a man afloat. You take the mast, sails and anything else that will float and lash them into a long parcel, then fasten this crosswise of the boat. If all the heavy articles are thrown overboard, the boat, though full of water, will float just below the surface. And this is precisely what they did--for four hours.
The poor passenger almost drowned, so concerned was he with his baggage, but Sam fought on saying, ‘It’s a poor time to die.’ When they eventually got their feet on dry land, Sam told the man he’d had it. Even for twenty dollars he wouldn’t make such a trip again. Later someone asked Sam what he suspected was in that package his passenger valued more than his life.
‘Opium, probably,’ he said, ‘And wouldn’t I be in a fine fix with a dead man and a load of opium aboard?’
From this misadventure Sam went on to the very legitimate adventure of serving aboard such steamers as the LYDIA THOMPSON and the ROSALIE, both of which he later became captain. One of the mates who served under Captain Sam on the ROSALIE told me not too long ago, ‘Captain Sam was on the island run so long he knew all the points by name, and those that had no name, he gave a name!’
In time, steamers were out and ferries were in. Captain Sam eagerly took over the command of the 156-foot ROSARIO, the first ferry on the San Juan Islands run. She was a floating palace and Sam was mighty proud of her.
Later Captain Sam commanded the CITY OF ANGELES on the San Juan route. In fact, most of the old-timers in the islands will connect him with this ferry. Years ago when some of Barlow’s fellow Masons were riding with him in the pilothouse of this ferry, he asked a mate to dock her at the Orcas ferry landing. Somehow, the mate miscalculated a bit and brought the vessel to an embarrassing stop at the Easterly side of the pilings. All he could do was back her up and try again. As the mate made his second approach Captain Sam said: ‘Well son, everybody gets into fixes like this occasionally. You’ll just have to get out the best way you can.’
A great deal of notoriety has been given Sam Barlow in connection with his membership in both the Seattle and Anacortes Masonic Lodges. In 1923, before he became a member of the Fidalgo Lodge, he was instrumental in arranging a visit between this Lodge and the Mt. Newton Lodge, F. & A.M. in Saanichton, B.C. Ever since this initial visit, which was instigated by Sam, the two lodges have met on a semi-annual basis. One member recently remarked: ‘God willing, may this delightful custom never cease.’
Following Sam Barlow’s death in 1938 (he was 63), and for many years, the Masons of both lodges honored the Captain by riding the ferry to Upright Head on Lopez Is. There the ferry engines ground to a stop near the ferry landing. In the stillness and scenic splendor, a group of Masons would float a floral wreath on the water in Captain Sam’s memory.
If Sam Barlow ever sounded like a rough and tough skipper, he wasn’t. He had a sentimental side. His daughter Bernice still recalls how she’d stay at the Orcas Hotel summers in order to be near her beloved father. When his ferry approached the dock, she and other islanders would run down to the landing to greet him. Quite often they’d sing a song called “on Dear Ol’ Orcas Isle”; this was written by Ethel B. Auld in 1926. Here are the lyrics:
Former mates who sailed with Captain Sam, islanders who still remember him for his friendliness and special kindnesses, and the Masons who honored him each year, prove that unlike old soldiers, this skipper’s memory will never fade away.”
Shirley Dever (1924-2008) was a magazine writer who retired to Orcas Island to live in the White Beach area in 1962.
Published by the Island Booster, Orcas Island, WA. 1971.
Sam, the boy, was one of the youngest of the Barlow family’s ten children. At his home on beautiful Barlow Bay (named after his father), he learned a lot about sailing from his father. He’d often gaze out at the sparkling sea and dream of a day when he’d be commanding his own vessel through the intricate passages around Lopez and the other islands. But first young Sam endured quite a hair-raising adventure for a sea-smitten kid. It seems that it all began when a stranger offered the boy twenty dollars to transport him from Oak Bay on Vancouver Island to a certain point on Whidbey Island.
Sam felt as if he’d just been offered a gold nugget. He had access to one of his father’s boats so the man and the boy made a deal. The first trip was a success and young Sam collected his money. But a little later the same man asked Sam to take him and some mysterious ‘baggage’ on the same trip. This time everything went wrong, including a storm at sea. The sailboat started to ship water and it was about to be swamped. Sam went to work to fight for his boat and his life. But his passenger was more concerned about the ‘baggage’.
Sam told the man something like this. “It takes only twenty pounds to keep a man afloat. You take the mast, sails and anything else that will float and lash them into a long parcel, then fasten this crosswise of the boat. If all the heavy articles are thrown overboard, the boat, though full of water, will float just below the surface. And this is precisely what they did--for four hours.
The poor passenger almost drowned, so concerned was he with his baggage, but Sam fought on saying, ‘It’s a poor time to die.’ When they eventually got their feet on dry land, Sam told the man he’d had it. Even for twenty dollars he wouldn’t make such a trip again. Later someone asked Sam what he suspected was in that package his passenger valued more than his life.
‘Opium, probably,’ he said, ‘And wouldn’t I be in a fine fix with a dead man and a load of opium aboard?’
From this misadventure Sam went on to the very legitimate adventure of serving aboard such steamers as the LYDIA THOMPSON and the ROSALIE, both of which he later became captain. One of the mates who served under Captain Sam on the ROSALIE told me not too long ago, ‘Captain Sam was on the island run so long he knew all the points by name, and those that had no name, he gave a name!’
In time, steamers were out and ferries were in. Captain Sam eagerly took over the command of the 156-foot ROSARIO, the first ferry on the San Juan Islands run. She was a floating palace and Sam was mighty proud of her.
Later Captain Sam commanded the CITY OF ANGELES on the San Juan route. In fact, most of the old-timers in the islands will connect him with this ferry. Years ago when some of Barlow’s fellow Masons were riding with him in the pilothouse of this ferry, he asked a mate to dock her at the Orcas ferry landing. Somehow, the mate miscalculated a bit and brought the vessel to an embarrassing stop at the Easterly side of the pilings. All he could do was back her up and try again. As the mate made his second approach Captain Sam said: ‘Well son, everybody gets into fixes like this occasionally. You’ll just have to get out the best way you can.’
A great deal of notoriety has been given Sam Barlow in connection with his membership in both the Seattle and Anacortes Masonic Lodges. In 1923, before he became a member of the Fidalgo Lodge, he was instrumental in arranging a visit between this Lodge and the Mt. Newton Lodge, F. & A.M. in Saanichton, B.C. Ever since this initial visit, which was instigated by Sam, the two lodges have met on a semi-annual basis. One member recently remarked: ‘God willing, may this delightful custom never cease.’
Following Sam Barlow’s death in 1938 (he was 63), and for many years, the Masons of both lodges honored the Captain by riding the ferry to Upright Head on Lopez Is. There the ferry engines ground to a stop near the ferry landing. In the stillness and scenic splendor, a group of Masons would float a floral wreath on the water in Captain Sam’s memory.
If Sam Barlow ever sounded like a rough and tough skipper, he wasn’t. He had a sentimental side. His daughter Bernice still recalls how she’d stay at the Orcas Hotel summers in order to be near her beloved father. When his ferry approached the dock, she and other islanders would run down to the landing to greet him. Quite often they’d sing a song called “on Dear Ol’ Orcas Isle”; this was written by Ethel B. Auld in 1926. Here are the lyrics:
"Oh dear old Orcas Isle,
that’s where we rest awhile.
Where skies are ever blue
and sweethearts roam.
Where sweet Madronas grow,
On dear old Orcas Isle,
Our Island home.”
Former mates who sailed with Captain Sam, islanders who still remember him for his friendliness and special kindnesses, and the Masons who honored him each year, prove that unlike old soldiers, this skipper’s memory will never fade away.”
Shirley Dever (1924-2008) was a magazine writer who retired to Orcas Island to live in the White Beach area in 1962.
Published by the Island Booster, Orcas Island, WA. 1971.
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