Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society: An Early History

BY LUCILE MCDONALD                                                                        Edited by Eleanor Boba

Well-known journalist, author, and historian Lucile McDonald compiled this history of PSMHS in the early 1970s. Five years later she added an addendum covering the years 1974 to 1979. McDonald’s history ends just prior to the Society’s acquisition of the Joe Williamson Photography Collection.

The editor has transcribed McDonald's type-written essays largely verbatim except where slight changes were needed for clarity. A few lines of the first essay have been lost to time. These essays have not been published previously.

PART I

For two years prior to March, 1948, a group of ship lovers and waterfront businessmen in Seattle kicked around the idea of forming an organization to preserve marine artifacts and lore while there were still some who remembered the romantic days of shipping on Puget Sound. Finally, they decided to call a meeting on April 1 in the upstairs room at Ivar’s Acres of Clams restaurant. That proved to some extent an April Fool’s joke, for only five men showed up – Joe Williamson, Jim Gibbs, Bob Leithead, Tom Sandry, and Austen Hemion.

The five founding members of PSMHS: From Left: Jim Gibbs, Tom Sandry, Joe Williamson, Bob Leithead and Austen Hemion, 1948. PSMHS Photo, Negative No. 8216

They were not the least discouraged by this small response, but went ahead and constituted themselves an executive board, calling a second session two weeks later at the same place. Word got around that they were in earnest and 21 men turned out. Among them were Jack Dillon, Captain Bob Matson, Wilbur Thompson, Frank Ewers, Harry Anderson, Bill Bailey, Earl Peterson, Bob Lund, Stuart Prestrud and Bill Somers. In the beginning, at the urging of Fred Geibel, editor of the Marine Digest, they called themselves the Puget Sound Steamship Historical Society, but this did not set well with the board members. Giebel visualized them as constituting a chapter of the nation-wide Steamship Historical Society, but the group preferred an independent strong local identity. Therefore, to Geibel’s regret, they soon altered the name to Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society, which it has remained ever since.

Most of the 21 men who toasted the new organization in clam nectar are still active members. A photograph taken at the second meeting showed a young aggregation except for a couple of veterans, Captain N.A. McDougall and Captain Hugh Gilmore, now deceased.

Officers elected were Williamson, president; Sandry, vice president; Hemion, secretary-treasurer; and Gibbs, program chairman. It was thought the Transportation Club could be used for meetings, but this did not work out and the early ones were held at the Gowman Hotel and the Seattle Yacht Club, where Webster Anderson was a member. The board of directors meanwhile met at private homes, often at Sandry’s where they gathered around the piano and sang after business was completed.

Members liked the Yacht Club, where they could sit in front of the big fireplace and spin yarns about ships, but a young people’s group scheduled square dance lessons for the same night and the competition became too difficult to cope with, so the society moved back to the Gowman early in 1949. It was still eating there when the hotel became the Stewart.

One of the first activities the society engaged in was sponsoring the race between the Sightseer and the Virginia V as part of the port’s Maritime Day program. This took place only a couple of months after the founding of the organization. Jim Gibbs was prime mover of the event.

Dinner speakers that initial year included Captain E.B. Coffin, master of the express steamer Tacoma, and Captain J. Fletcher Ruttle, who has been master of a Liberty ship for Northland Transportation Company during the war. The latter presented his own motion pictures taken during two years in the Antarctic. Captain Coffin in December became the first honorary life member. At the same meeting, it was voted to retain all the incumbent officers for another year. A roster of charter members was made up, showing a total of 34, of whom three were women.

The impression had prevailed that the society was for males only and while they were still meeting at the Yacht Club a woman showed up for a session. She must have felt uncomfortable, for she never returned.

In April, 1949, the group celebrated its first birthday with an old-fashioned box social aboard the Virginia V.  Ken Ayers was master of ceremonies and Chuck Day acted as auctioneer for the decorated boxes after a prize was given for the prettiest one. The boat cruised an hour without cost to the members, but the lunches were for cash. During the festivities, Captain Howell Parker of the Virginia V was presented with the second honorary life membership.

This was in the days before the Seattle Historical Society erected its building [MOHAI at Montlake] and the maritime group was badly in need of a place in which to store artifacts. A first suggestion that the University of Washington be asked if it could spare space brought no response. The maritime society made its debut in the field of exhibits at the Seattle Boat Show in February, 1949 when it provided a display in cooperation with the Marine Digest. After that the Chamber of Commerce offered storage space near Wolfe’s Marina, but several members inspected it and rejected the proposal. Another space was offered by C. Arthur Foss aboard the ship Cheakamus, which the society might also use for headquarters and a museum. Again, a committee went forth, this time to Kennydale, to inspect the vessel, but the proposal evidently was considered impractical, as it was dropped after discussion at the February meeting. It would have entailed providing a moorage and necessary maintenance of the vessel and displays.

Storage was a pressing problem, as part of the organization’s aim at the very beginning had been to preserve as many souvenirs and pictures of old-time vessels as possible. Not a few of the charter members engaged in what was facetiously termed “moonlight requisitioning” when they visited a hull about to be demolished or disposed of for a breakwater and combed it for any significant equipment that might have been left. They were not averse to tramping over tidal flats and extracting pieces of derelict vessels embedded in beaches. No source was overlooked; the society openly solicited gifts of engines, steam whistles – just about anything. But where were the trophies to be kept? Some were in members’ attics, basements, and garages, but the collecting was entirely too ambitious for the accommodations. For instance, one of the first items the society discussed going after was the steam engine of the tug Pioneer owned by Pope & Talbot.

The steam tug Pioneer. Undated photo courtesy of Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society.

Another project proposed that initial year was compilation of a master list of members’ private libraries of books about the sea. As a basis for programs Jack Dillon offered to pick two historical ships for discussion at each meeting.

In August, 1949, it was decided to issue a news letter incorporating each meeting announcement. To begin with this was a single mimeographed sheet containing items of interest. To sharpen wits Austen Hemion, secretary-treasurer, included sample questions for members to think about and discuss: What was the first automobile ferry to run to Bainbridge Island? What was the first steamer under American registry to operate from Puget Sound to the Orient? What was the name of the first steamer of iron or steel on regular schedule from Puget Sound to Southeastern Alaska?

That fall Joe Williamson and Jim Gibbs promoted the idea of holding an annual dinner to honor waterfront old-timers. Ken Ayers, who was master of ceremonies at that initial banquet, recalls that between 150 and 200 attended the event in the Transportation Club. The committee underestimated attendance and a partition had to be removed in order to accommodate so many. Numerous guests were men past the age of 70 and Gibbs had a difficult time singling out the oldest, settling at last on Captain Fred P. Harlow. George Westerman proved to be the oldest in active service. Awards were given both. Other honored guests were Captain Everett B. Coffin, J.H. Buxbaum, Captain Zu Murry, Rob Ross, Captain Zipp Wyatt, F.H. Marvin and C. Arthur Foss. Pictures of old ships and slides were exhibited as part of the program, which included songs by Ivar Haglund and community singing led by Chuck Day, with Tom Sandry at the piano.

Captain Howell Parker was presented with a plaque [….and another] was set aside for Captain Harry Wilson of the Sightseer, who could not be present. The climax of the evening was the unveiling of the original bell of the Victoria, formerly the Parthia, loaned for the occasion by G.W. Skinner. Brief speeches were made by W.E. Springstun, who was on the Dora during her famous drift in the North Pacific, and by Captain Henry Foss. The gathering was so successful that there was no question but that it would be repeated.

Next year’s old-timers’ night was staged at the Masonic Temple and brought out an attendance of 206. Ayers was again master of ceremonies and one of the features was an exhibit of the models of the Puget Sound Navigation Co. fleet and the Colman Dock, brought by Bill Somers from his private museum on Stretch Island.

In 1950, the society sponsored a more ambitious race on the waterfront, with 18 tugs entered. It received a generous amount of publicity and the June meeting was devoted to a discussion of the benefits of the race and the showing of pictures taken during the contest. The course was 4.9 nautical miles, there were three classes of entries and the winners of first place in each were the USS Tatnuck, the ST 860, and the Ajax.

Participation in the towboat races became a greater financial obligation than the society could afford, although it joined with the Propeller Club in sponsoring them. However, it had to get out of the races because of the cost and the fact that tugs could not be spared for participation in the event. Vivian Smith in 1952 received an award from the Propeller Club for work she did in its behalf.

Programs of the society invariably were interesting, in fact the quality of discussion and speakers furnished for the meetings has always been a great drawing card. Here are some of the early ones featured: George Treadwell, chief engineer of the Port of Seattle, with slides to illustrate his talk; H.C. Hansen, naval architect; Commander Ben Wilcox, on his experience in the Coast Guard; Alan McDonald, on his work at Acapulco, Mexico, in connection with the stranding of the cruise ship Corsair; A.J. McGree, on the government locks; Captain John Backlun of the schooner C.S. Holmes, with his motion pictures showing arctic trading; a speaker from the Coast Guard on “the Weather Man at Sea;” Dr. Dorothy Johnson, of Portland, on the history of the Oregon Steam Navigation Co.; Captain Alan Villiers; Captain Loring F. Heyde, of Port Angeles, on his work as a salvage officer in two world wars; the origin and history of the compass; Mike Shain, on early pleasure boat building and racing; C. Arthur Foss on early towboating; Robert Hitchman on Washington coastal names; Black Ball night with Alexander Peabody as speaker; Captain Ralph E. Fielding on his 27 years as a naval physician; Howard Lovejoy and his aunt on the Coupeville saga, and Captain Frank Huxtable on the heroic effort to salvage the North Sea, stranded on Porter Reef.

Sometimes the meetings were simply billed as “gab-fest and picture-guessing night.” At another time, Professor Charles Gates of the University of Washington spoke on “The Puget Sound Story – How Can the Society Tell it?”

At a board meeting in May, 1951, the question of becoming incorporated was raised. Austen Hemion headed a committee to investigate the wisdom of this and what it would cost. In November of the same year, the incorporation under the laws of Washington as a nonprofit voluntary association was effected.

The status of women in the organization was laid at rest at the January, 1951, meeting when Ruby El Hult[i] was elected secretary-treasurer. Vivian Smith already had joined, having attended a session “to find out just what kept her husband out on meeting night.” She enjoyed it so much she applied for membership. Two years later she was editing the news letter when her husband, Floyd, was secretary-treasurer.

The news letter started as a one-page sheet with board reports and announcements of meetings at the top and news items filling the rest of the page. It expanded to two pages, partially discussing maritime subjects for members to ponder. For several years, Vivian Smith typed and mimeographed this publication at home and attended to the mailing. Then in March, 1955, John W. Todd took over the job and in November began publishing a more ambitious sheet from his office in the Shorey Book Store. This would permit addition of supplements contributed as the result of members’ research. Ruby El Hult and Captain McDougall already had provided several extra pages in the earlier issues. McDougall combed old files in libraries, dug into stories about early vessels, and worked so diligently he was for a time appointed historian. He was still at it when he died suddenly May 13, 1957.

From the beginning, there had been an attempt to fill four appointive positions of registrar, librarian, custodian, and historian. In 1950 Bob Leithead volunteered as historian, Lloyd Stadum as librarian, and Joe Williamson as custodian [curator]. The following year one of the board meetings devoted a long time to discussion as to how to interest members in participating in research. Again, in October, the problem of storage came up, as Bill Bailey no longer could take care of acquisitions and the society needed to find someone with space for them. Tom Sandry offered to house them for a limited time, but Williamson thought the stuff could be farmed out to more members.

All were dreaming of having a real museum and the Marine Digest offered space in an empty room at 81 Columbia Street, beside its office. Vivian Smith remembers several of the members climbing on ladders to clean out cobwebs. They gave the room a thorough going over before installing the exhibits. “We opened on a Saturday afternoon,” Vivian recalls. “Eve Hitchcock and I baked cookies and served coffee. Austen Hemion helped us get ready. We worked like a bunch of idiots before the place opened.”

The museum on Columbia Street was fairly short-lived. The Marine Digest moved and in the fall of 1954 the artifacts had to be gathered again and were stored at the Bell Street terminal for several years. After the Museum of History and Industry erected the first unit of its building the society brought out some of its treasures and loaned them for it first exhibit in that structure in March, 1954. At the time, there were several other sponsors of the display, including the Port of Seattle, the Propeller Club, Seattle Historical Society, and the H.W. McCurdy collection. (McCurdy had been collecting ever since 1921.)

Somewhat later the society again loaned artifacts to the museum for a mosquito fleet exhibit in 1956, viewed by 17,000 spectators. Vivian Smith headed a women’s committee who served refreshments at the opening, attended by 1,400. Much work went with preparing the exhibit. Eva Hitchcock typed all the display cards. The mosquito fleet was always a popular subject; visitors enjoyed particularly seeing the models and old pictures of early day Puget Sound vessels and this type of exhibit has remained standard fare from time to time up to the present.

What had started as an easy-going association to talk about boats and the sea had taken on a good many obligations. Being a member of the society was no longer a hobby; sometimes it was a heavy chore. There was, for instance, the old-timers’ night. A question arose as to whether anyone would take charge of arrangement for the third banquet, in 1951. At first there was no response, no one could spare the time, then Floyd and Vivian Smith rose to the occasion and the event was saved from foundering. It was staged that November again at the Masonic Temple. A complaint was voiced that only 30 members attended, some having the mistaken idea that dinner was only for old-timers. Chris Querin, who had been operator of the Arlington Dock, was the speaker, Don Venables sang, Tom Sandry was at the piano, and Bill Bailey, Jr. played the accordion. Ken Ayers phoned long distance to wish the gathering luck; he was by this time at the Armed Forces staff college at Norfolk, Va.

The fourth annual banquet moved to the Benjamin Franklin Hotel, with the gangplank down at 3 p.m. for coffee, and dinner was served at an early hour. Captain Ben Joyce, Sr. was speaker, Captain Frank Huxtable was master of ceremonies and pictures were shown by Joe Williamson and Bob Leithead.

The advertised speaker for the 1954 old-timers’ meeting became ill two days before his much-publicized appearance and there was no choice but to turn the meeting over to the old-timers themselves. About 15 were warned by telephone that they might be called upon and they responded with great enthusiasm. Not all had a chance to speak their piece before the hour became late and a halt had to be called. It was declared one of the best programs to date.

Next year the speaker was Captain C.W. Cates, Mayor of North Vancouver, on “Adventures in Sail and Steam.” Both those dinners were at the Stewart Hotel.

From time to time the board of governors had asked themselves if they were carrying out their goals and giving the society real meaning in the community. The early, motto, oft repeated in the News Letter, was “For the collection and preservation of objects and data of maritime interest.” But what was the use of saving them if there was no place where they could be seen and utilized? Though acquisitions continued to pour in, little could be done with them except to mount loose photographs in albums. Regret was felt that some sailing ship pictures were being lost due to the energetic search conducted for the San Francisco marine museum. [The San Francisco Maritime Museum was established in 1951.]

The society’s was the not the first attempt made in Seattle to sponsor a maritime museum. As far back as 1934 the Puget Sound Academy of Science had moored the old square-rigger St. Paul near the Chittenden Locks and fitted her out with artifacts and photographs. Thousands of school children, tourists, and marine-minded citizens visited her before the craft was pronounced unseaworthy. Her spars had to be removed and, in 1940, she was towed to Vancouver Island and sunk as part of a breakwater for a logging company [at Oyster Bay].

The St. Paul, a short-lived marine museum and aquarium, at the Locks, circa 1934. Photo courtesy of Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society.

Her departure from the scene was deeply mourned and since all efforts to replace her with another old ship seemed doomed to failure the Maritime Historical Society altered its goal of a waterfront museum and joined forces with the Museum of History and Industry in an effort to finance a new wing for nautical collections. The museum already owned more sea-oriented artifacts such as figureheads, old sextants, hundreds of pictures, name-boards, and other items than could be accommodated in available display space.

In January, 1954, the executive board established a building fund, to begin with life memberships. Webb Anderson was first to buy one and Floyd Smith was second. It appeared practical to construct an annex to house all the marine material and in 1956 Floyd Smith was appointed head of a fund-raising committee sponsored by the society. Plans already had been drawn for the addition to the Museum of History and Industry and a goal of $100,000 was set to finance it. The structure was to be 53 feet wide and either 81 or 100 feet long, depending upon the state of the exchequer. It would allow for a display room on the main floor and office and storage space below. Smith said it was to have been approached with four steps down. The members objected; they were thinking of years ahead when they might not be sure-footed.

Other members of the committee were John W. Todd, Horace W. McCaurdy, Coiln McLennon, Robert Hitchman and Ralph Hitchcock. Their meeting place was the pilots’ office. Individuals made calls upon steamship companies, but only succeeded in securing gifts from four of them.  Many persons were solicited for whatever amounts they were willing to donate. The backbone of the fund consisted of 27 life memberships of $100 each, which became what Smith termed “seed money.” It was used for brochures and other expenses. McCurdy’s private secretary volunteered some of the work such as writing letters.

“We worked six or eight months on the drive,” Smith said. “There were lots of small donations, but we had a tough time until Horace McCurdy, acting in behalf of the Seattle Historical Society, brought in Dwight Merrill and Joshua Green. McCurdy also gave generously himself. I remember that McLennon and I used to go and see Green and invariably he wound up saying, ‘You know, Floyd, the waterfront is in my heart,’ but we didn’t know where we were with him until McCurdy pinned him down.”

Another consideration which occupied the committee for a long time was that, although the fund reached $1147,000, it was not all in negotiable form. The building’s actual cost was $136,000, of which very little in the end was raised by the society.

At length on August 8, 1958, ground was broken for the maritime wing, Vivian Smith, Bob Hitchman, Joshua Green and Horace McCurdy manning the shovels along with the mayor and others. Floyd Smith was unable to be present, so Vivian took his place. The building opened June 9, 1959, with more than 1,300 persons attending the evening program, which was heralded with the characteristic blasts of a steam whistle, this time from the historic Sound vessel the Politofsky that had once been a Russian gunboat. This same whistle became a part of the permanent collection. In 1909, it had blown for the opening of the Alaska Yukon Pacific Exposition.

By 1956, a tape recorder had been acquired by the society for the purpose of preserving worth-while addresses at the meetings. Had this practice been followed in earlier years many a speaker’s narrative of pioneer shipping in the North Pacific could have been added to the collection. These were experiences impossible to recapture.

There were speakers on such subjects as “Early Tugs on Puget Sound,” the works of the Coast and Geodetic Survey, the Dew Line, Admiral Donald B. MacMillan and his Arctic adventures, Edward Allen on LaPerouse’s explorations, author Kenneth Dodson, Captain Carl M. Hansen on an expedition to record Arctic drift, two fisheries experts telling of a trip to Kamchatka and Sakhalin Island, Dr. Victor Scheffer on the fur seal islands, a Coast Guard officer with a film on the cutters that sailed the Northwest Passage, the commander of the icebreaker Burton Island on his just-completed trip to the Antarctic, Bill Holm on early Indian canoes. There was always something stimulating in the programs and sufficient variety to attract an audience of varied ages.

Usually once a year the society sponsored a boat trip of some sort. In September, 1957, it made the final crossing of the ferry Chippewa to Bremerton under command of Captain Louis van Bogaert. Cake was served on board, whistles were blown frequently, and tickets were free to members for the round trip. In 1964, there was a cruise aboard the Thea Foss to Port Townsend and again that year members made an excursion to Victoria on the Princess Marguerite and were bussed to the Maritime Museum at Esquimault. Another cruise on the Thea Foss was around Bainbridge Island.

Usually the first session on the fall calendar called for reports of interesting marine vacation trips made by members. For the tenth anniversary meeting Joe Williamson arranged a display of photographs of early society activities. This was the first time the society experimented with a no-dinner meeting at the Museum of History and Industry.

Over the years the organization had received an increasing variety of gifts, among them a harpoon gun for whaling, the Seth Thomas clock from Burroughs Island Lighthouse, 10 half-hull models of ships from a marine architect’s estate, a knot board, a kerosene powered sailing ship’s starboard running light, a telegrapher’s key with a British tuppence soldered to it as one of the breaker points, a volume kept by the official wine measurer of the Port of New York, the records and papers of the Puget Sound Navigation Co., the lens from Patos Island Lighthouse --- these were just a few items among the hundreds that came in.

In the beginning, Lloyd Stadum was willing to be librarian and keep track of the receipt of books, magazines, pictures, postcards, albums and circulars, but after five or six years the task required more than 20 hours every week and he asked to be relieved. This was done and Alexis Alvey took over for a while, but in another six months Stadum was at it again and he has been so occupied consistently ever since. In 1962, he was made an honorary life member in recognition of his long service as a librarian.

The most important literary acquisition was the Jack Rabell collection of books on marine subjects, a private library which the Alaska Steamship Co. purchased and placed in custody of the society in 1961. Rabell had spent 14 years assembling it. He was American representative of the World Ship Society. His collection gave the Maritime Historical Society one of the best marine libraries in the country. However, the material is not yet fully organized.

From the time when John W. Todd became a member he took a prominent part in the society, not only editing the News Letter, but offering his book shop as a place for board meetings. When contributions for the bulletin did not arrive in time he filled the pages with poems about the sea, jokes culled from old Readers Digests, and sometimes with selections that had a devout slant. Alexis Alvey also sent in a column headed “Beachcombing Among the Bookshelves.”

Publication of the News Letter was then the group’s major item of expense. Artwork for it was donated by Mrs. Otto Marsh, who illustrated Shorey’s catalogues. Doc Freeman and his wife handled the mailing. By 1963, the publication ran as many as 16 pages in its supplements and another eight pages for the letter itself, plus a colored sheet for cover.

Eventually ten members addressed a letter to the board of governors in 1961 requesting that no more articles of a religious nature be printed, since they were not in accord with the purpose of the society. A committee was appointed to review the matter, and, after being considered at two board meetings, it was voted that nothing controversial should appear in the space allotted to Todd for editorial comments.

By 1963 there were suggestions from members to publish a quarterly, reduce the news letter to a one-sheet program announcement, cut out the supplements and limit the content only to maritime articles of historical nature. [Old members were encouraged] to think and write about the past.

The board [ultimately] chose a middle course as a result of the discussion and the News Letter ended its career with the March, 1967, issue. The Sea Chest was launched the following September and the practice of sending brief monthly meeting announcements began. The society then had 226 paid-up members.

William O. Thorniley edited the first issue of the quarterly, which had for its editorial board Wilbur B. Thompson, then president, Bob Leithead, Jim Vallentyne, Tom Sandry, and Hal H. Will. By the December issue Hal Will had become editor. Gordon Jones also joined the editorial board and Roy J. Storey was handling circulation.

The second number was dedicated to the memory of James Davenport Vallentyne, who in the interval had been tragically lost at sea. He was credited with having put in much time and effort to make the initial Sea Chest a success. He had been president of the society in 1959 and 1960 and his home was then the meeting place for the board of governors.

For a time, regular sessions in the Museum of History and Industry were tried out, but the membership preferred gathering for dinner, so except for special programs this became the rule. The place had shifted from the Stewart Hotel to the Edmond Meany [Hotel] to the Roosevelt [Hotel] and the Norselander [Seafood Restaurant]. In September, 1964, a meeting was staged aboard the historic ship Wawona, when coffee was served to about 75 persons and the session was called to order in the lower hold to hear a talk by the late [Seattle City] Councilmember Wing Luke. In 1967, a similar meeting was held aboard the Hyak.

In the 1960s the old-timers’ dinner continued to be an outstanding feature of the year. Among the speakers highlighting these occasions were Dr. Athelstan Spilhaus and Rear Admiral Zausler. One program honored Puget Sound Freight Lines and another featured the American Mail Line. Joshua green was so often the oldest member present at this affair that it became sport to guess who would be the nearest runner-up. The October 1969 waterfront reunion honored Green’s 100^th birthday.

Membership dues were a matter of concern for several years. In 1968, they were increased to $7.00 and in 1969 they were again raised in order to balance expenses. For a time, it was tried alternating dinner meetings and sessions at the museum, but the latter was given up entirely except for the annual gathering to view the Christmas trees, an established tradition. The group ate for a while at the Swedish Club, but in the winter of 1970 moved to the Windjammer, which ever since has been the organization’s choice.

The year 1968 was notable for raising a fund for a memorial plaque honoring the late Jim Vallentyne and for winning the anchor award from the Port of Seattle on Maritime Day when the Sea Chest was named the best marine book of the year. Outstanding programs feature Lieutenant Hamilton of the icebreaker Staten Island telling of the rescue of the Northwind and another describing the towing of the battleship Oklahoma from Pearl Harbor to Puget Sound after the sunken vessel was purchased for salvaging. Captain Ben Joyce was the oldest member present at that year’s waterfront reunion and had been to sea the longest – 58 years.

Programs in 1969 included a showing of the Tugboat Annie film and introducing members of the Foss family (the affair brought a much-needed profit of $390), a speech on escorting the supertanker Manhatten through the Northwest Passage and Mike Mjelde’s story of his research and how he came to write the book Glory of the Seas. Another fund raising event was a cruise on the Virginia V with dinner at the Salmon House. The Virginia V was honored at the waterfront reunion by being named flagship of the society.

At the beginning of 1970 John Meals retired as treasurer and was officially thanked for having served nine years at this unrewarding post.

The January 1971 meeting was entertained with a film on the blasting of Ripple Rock[ii]. That year the annual cruise went to Blake Island. Merle Odlum was speaker at the old-timers’ banquet, where the veteran members present were Bob Hill, 95, Ben Joyce, 93, and Louis Van Bogaert.

An editorial board for the Sea Chest was inaugurated during the year and Hal Will, editor, received a life membership. At the first board of governors meeting in 1972 Hal called attention to the fact that H.W. McCurdy’s gift to the Sea Chest by then totaled nearly $1,000.

Other events of the following months were the showing of the film about the Nonsuch, the fiftieth anniversary cruise of the Virginia V to Tacoma, an exhibit installed at the museum of the Klondike Gold Rush, and a slide program, “Pictorial Art of the Northwest Explorers.” H.W. and James McCurdy spoke at the old-timers’ banquet and showed a film. The board donated $1,000 for shelving in connection with the new library in the museum.

END OF PART I

PART II: CONTINUATION OF PSMHS HISTORY: 1974-1979

Early in 1974 it was realized that past meetings had brought to light much maritime history and an effort was launched to get tapes of speakers’ talks transcribed. A shelter for bulky exhibits outside the museum was investigated.

In October, a Captain Cook film was borrowed on a loan from a Portland museum. The Arctic regions were featured in several programs, one by Stan Patty on what the Prudhoe Bay oil development has done to Alaska, another on it effect on Seattle shipping and the third a travelogue from a trip made by Austin Hemion and Lloyd Stadum along the Norwegian coast.

Late in the year the Society received through Ed Shields a gift of Alaskan material contained in the Archie Shiels collection. While much of it related to other subjects, the marine manuscripts were exceptionally good.

Future researchers into the Society’s archives may puzzle over records in the minutes of early 1975 board meetings concerning the necessity for a special audit of funds. These relate to the unfortunate experience when an elected officer of PSMHS “borrowed” from the savings account and by devious means concealed his shortages of more than $650. When this was discovered a bank search was ordered and, rather than prosecute, the executive board demanded a private settlement from him of the full amount. After this happened the board voted to require two signatures on any future checks and savings withdrawals.

That year the organization sponsored three performances of the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta “Ruddigore” in the museum auditorium. This netted a profit of several hundred dollars.

With Hal Will elected to the presidency for 1977, he retired as editor of the Sea Chest and Ed Shields took on that responsibility for the next three years.

The Society donated $100 to the Seamen’s Memorial Fund for a navigation light on the waterfront. A book auction of donated volumes grossed $2,040 for the PSMHS treasury.

Dues were increased in January, 1978, due to the escalating cost of printing and postage. It was agreed that the sale price of the Sea Chest should be fixed at $3 instead of $2.50. The quarterly was at that time being mailed to 647 addresses in the United States and 18 abroad. There were 803 members on the roll.

The largest expenditure of the preceding year was for Scriptomatic equipment to assist with mailing. A report was given by Perry Williams on his ten years as curator for the society. Another long-time volunteer in a work-laden position who should have been mentioned before this was Vivian Smith. She retired as secretary in 1975.

A new editorial board was appointed for the Sea Chest in December 1978. By that time to cost of getting it out had risen from $1.09 a copy in 1975 to $1.33, not counting the stamp. In 1979 Ed Shields prepared a subject index of the Sea Chest, but it was considered too expensive to publish.

Some guidelines controlling acquisitions and other interests of the Society were adopted, specifying its territory as extending from the Columbia River to the Arctic Ocean and eastward in a line along the Columbia. The articles of incorporation were amended in 1979, making the Seattle Historical Society the registered agent for PSMHS and the museum location its registered address.

Two more collections had come to the society, the Joe Johnson books and scrapbooks in 1978 and the Coolidge Collection in 1979. The directors agreed to pay a student to do some work on the latter.

Most successful of all the summer cruises the society sponsored was the Virginia V’s trip to the Duwamish River in 1979. A speaker was on board to explain the sights to the record crowd.

In June Elizabeth Sutton-Gustison, who had been ex-officio a member of the board in order to represent the museum died after her long service. She had been scheduled to retire in another month. In recognition of her long serviced to the Society a posthumous life membership was awarded her and the citation was to appear with her portrait displayed in the museum.

As early as 1976 the executive board had commenced to talk of someday acquiring the Joe Williamson collection of photographs. Various guesses as to their valuation were hazarded but no negotiations came out in the open until Williamson received an offer from the San Francisco Maritime Museum. He was ready to sell by 1979 and in July the Society learned that the price was either $50,000 cash or $500 a month for the duration of his life and something for his wife if she survived him. The acquisition committee proposed that the Society offer $1200 for one year’s exclusive option to purchase the collection. This was voted and the board began to work out a plan of action to raise the necessary money. In October, it received an unexpected donation of more than $1,000 when the price of a very poor meal at the Windjammer (then going through a change of ownership) was refunded.

The dinner disappointment, incidentally, was offset by the excellent speech and slide showing by Robert Wing, author of a new book on Peter Puget.

In June, the board approved making a gift of surplus copies of Lloyds Register to other libraries that could use them and to send the entire set of New York Shipping Registers to the University of Washington Library. These volumes were said to be taking up too much space in view of how seldom they were consulted. This action brought a strong protest from member Harold Huycke. He and two others attended the October 10 board meeting to state their reasons for objecting and point out the great value of the books for researchers. He said almost no members knew they were available in the museum to consult.

Dr. James Warren, director of the museum, defended the board’s action and said the registers would be used 400 times as often in the University Library.

Jim Cole thanked the protesting group for presenting their ideas and said the board in the future would try to keep the membership better informed about the availability of material.

The only other business during 1979 was the receipt of $500 from the King County Arts Commission which had to be used by the end of the year. The board designated it for purchase of storage cabinets for the Coolidge collection. One of the final acts was to endorse the proposal to cooperate with Northwest Seaport in its planning for a museum in Seaport Park on Lake Union. The board also appointed a committee to direct the drive for the Williamson picture collection.[iii]

END OF PART II

About the author:

Lucile McDonald (1898-1992) in her home office with her Royal typewriter, ca. 1990. Courtesy Eastside Heritage Center (Lucile McDonald Collection, 93.132)

The following is excerpted from the HistoryLink.org essay about Lucile written by this editor.

Lucile Saunders McDonald (1898-1992) distinguished herself in the fields of journalism and popular history through a prolific lifetime career that produced several thousand news features and columns, 13 published books on local history, an equal number of children's books, and countless contributions to magazines, journals, and anthologies. By the age of 23 she could call herself the first female news editor in Oregon, the first woman general-assignment reporter for the Portland Oregonian, and the first female news reporter in South America. From 1942 to 1966 she was a popular feature writer for The Seattle Times. In later life, she enjoyed a reputation as a local historian, in demand as a speaker for clubs, school groups, and historical societies.

With an interest in boats and maritime history, McDonald offered her writing skills to the [PSMHS] society's journal, theSea Chest … she eventually joined that group and contributed a total of 91 articles to the journal, more than any other author. Mike Mjelde, a past editor of The Sea Chest, recalled her contributions:

"When I became editor of The Sea Chest in 1991, Lucile was considered a valuable member of the editorial board because of her depth of knowledge. We viewed her as an honored member and she helped us in choosing suitable articles for publication. We also appreciated her giving us permission to publish excerpts from her [unpublished] maritime history of the Washington Coast."

Read the entire essay on Lucile McDonald at http://www.historylink.org/File/11121.

[i] Ruby El Hult was the maiden name of Ruby McAndrew, an author and historian who, writing under her maiden name, wrote a number of books and articles about topics in Northwest history, including steamboats, trains, and lost mines.[ii] Ripple Rock was an underwater hazard in Discovery Passage, British Columbia. Its top was blasted away in 1958 by the government of Canada.[iii] For the full story of the acquisition of the Williamson Collection, refer to our blog post, Deep Focus, Part I – The Joe Williamson Photographic Collection: http://psmhsinsidepassage.blogspot.com/2015/02/deep-focus-joe-williamson-photographic.html.

Snagboats on Puget Sound: A Photo Essay

The snagboat Swinomish in Lake Washington, circa 1916. The lowering of the lake to accommodate the new Ship Canal left many snags exposed. The photo is credited to Asahel Curtis. 

Photo, Shoreline Historical Museum, #1249.

Snagboats were a familiar sight on the Ship Canal and on Puget Sound rivers from 1885 to 1981. The snagboats Skagit (1885-1914), Swinomish (1914-1929), and W.T. Preston (1929-1981) were charged with clearing snags and other debris from the region’s waterways. Aside from this primary duty, the snagboats were called to serve in many other ways.

For the full story of the Puget Sound snagboats, read Ron Burke's detailed and beautifully-illustrated article for The Sea Chest -- "Heritage of a Snagboat" (June 2001).

The snagboats Skagit and Swinomish side by side in 1915. Their A-frame cranes sit on the bows. 

Photo, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.

In 1980 and 1981 Pam Negri conducted a series of oral history interviews for the Corps of Engineers with current and former crew members of the W.T. Preston. The men shared a number of stories detailing both their ordinary duties and some unexpected tasks. (Tapes and transcripts in the care of the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center)

WHOOPIN' IT UP!

In a 1981 interview, Sandy Welsh Jr. explained that the Preston ended up with the whistles of both earlier snagboats, as well as its own:

The two big steam whistles from the Swinomish and the Skagit, they operated together. Mine was, well I call it a whooper, and it was kind of a steam siren. I operated it independently. You could kind of play a little bit of a tune with them both going. We had a lot of fun. There was a couple other steam boats that had whooper sirens on them. We would whoop back and forth.

People really get a thrill out of listening to the steam whistles. You'll go by, like through the Lake Washington Ship Canal, and people will come out of their offices or on the boat next to you and yell, "blow the whistle, blow the whistle.“ I'll always give an extra toot for a thank you for each of the bridges we go through. Most of the time the bridge tenders will give a little toot back in answer. Especially Bill, who works on the Ballard Bridge up there, he says, "how about a real long one with the bridge opening?" So, I'll give him a little bit extra long one because he really likes to hear the steam whistle. It's really funny though. You'll just see the people, and if you can't hear them you'll just see the arms pump up and down. "Blow that whistle!“ (Oral History, Virgil (Sandy) V. Welsh Jr., Second Mate and Caption on the Preston, 1975-81.  From the archives of the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center)

BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE

Captain William M. Morgan at the helm of the W.T. Preston, 1975. 

Photo, Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society.

Captain William W. Morgan told Pam Negri about part of the job that involved burning derelict houseboats:

We used to do quite a bit of work in conjunction with the Seattle Harbor Patrol. They would assist us, either bring in snags or tell us where they were at. Anyway, we were burning a considerable amount of houseboats, and they were the ones that were towing the boats down to Montlake across from the old canoe house at the U.W. There were times when we would have a half-dozen houses. We would burn them right down to the logs, then pick the logs up and set them on the beach.

This one particular time, we used to go in and open the valves or break the water lines so there was no water remaining to cause any possible explosions. We'd gone through this one house and broke a few lines, opened all the valves we could see. Then we set our fire. Well, it was really burning pretty good. The old tar paper roofs-everything was really going strong. Here comes a harbor police boat heading toward the shore-must have been an emergency. We were all standing on our deck, watching this houseboat burn when all of the sudden there's this terrific explosion. Here goes this hot water tank, shooting out across the water, landing right in front of this police boat coming full out towards it. It was pretty funny at the time, but could have been extremely serious.

[The Harbor Patrol] kind of laughed it off. Particularly one of them that I knew quite well, he said, "Wouldn't that look good on the front page of the PI [Post-Intelligencer], Preston torpedoes Seattle police boat with hot water tank." (Oral History, William W. Morgan (Tape 16), Deckhand, First Mate, Second Mate, and Captain 1952-1982. From the archives of the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center)

COWS ON THE BRINK

Norman Hamburg began his career as a cabin boy on the Swinomish in 1927 and later transferred to the Preston. In his 1982 interview he told Pam Negri about one little-known aspect of the work:

A lot of times there was a lot of erosion along the [river] banks. The cows would get too close to the edge of the bank eating grass, and sometimes the bank would cave in and down would go the cow in the river. We picked up quite a few cows in the river, set them back down on the bank for the farmer. [How?] Put a rope sling around 'em, just behind their front legs and just ahead of their rear legs, picked 'em right up with the donkey engine and swung them over and set them on the bank. They very seldom hurt themselves; they landed on the soft mud in the river there.  (Oral History, Norman Hamburg (Tape 10), January 15, 1982. From the archives of the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center)

Crew of the W.T. Preston, 1939. U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. 

WARTIME

Hamburg explains the effect of World War II on the snagboat business:

During World War II, when they stopped all river and harbor work, they tied the Preston up at the locks wall. They transferred all the laid-off crew that didn't have 15 years of service in. They found other jobs for them, but what I mean [is] they were laid off the Preston. They kept the captain, the chief engineers, myself and the cook. We stayed aboard the vessel for quarters and helped keep the vessel in shape, and we were transferred over to the locks. The chief engineer and I were transferred over to the machine shop -- working for Charlie Seagren. We were outfitting boats for Alaska and a lot of the boats were going up to [Adak?] Island, building the airbase up there. Also, the Alcan Highway [Alaska-Canadian]: we did a lot of work at the locks for the Alcan Highway making different things in the machine shop and the blacksmith shops. They didn't bring the Preston out until after World War II....but they kept us crew aboard in case some emergency would arise.

I remember when we came to work on December 8th [1941]; it was on a Monday morning. Driving down from Mount Vernon, we were stopped at the main gate going in -- soldiers galore. Went through  our suitcases. They went through our luggage and they walked with us down to the Preston to get verification that we belonged to that crew. Our cook -- little Fritz -- fed about, I'd say, 30 soldiers for the meals on the Preston until they had facilities built and they built barracks down at the locks for these soldiers to stay in because they were on guard there -- on duty 24 hours a day. The barracks at that time were built on a wall just west of the administration building. 

One of the first jobs the snagboat had was to lay a cable across from the small locks over to the south end of the spillway to hang a netted, mesh fence on there to stop anything that could drift down to blow up the spillway. Everything was very vulnerable. They had blackouts for all the sawmills, the homes, the street lights -- everything had to be turned out at dusk and you had dark blinds over your windows in the homes. There was absolutely no light on the west coast at all, until they found out just how vulnerable it was. They were afraid of a Japanese attack on the west coast. 

There were a lot of boats tied up in Lake Washington and Kirkland in the area.....Lake Union....and if something would have happened to the locks there, it would have drained the water out of Lake Union and been a real disaster. (Ibid.)

Coast Guard barracks and mess hall at the locks, August 14, 1943. 

Photo, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.

The last of the Puget Sound snagboats -- W.T. Preston -- was retired in 1981. Such snagging duties that are left on our well-traveled waterways are now carried out by the Puget, a small derrick barge. Two years afterwards, the Preston was acquired by the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center where she may be seen today.

-- Eleanor Boba

The W.T. Preston, with sternwheel, was an impressive sight passing through the locks, February 3, 1972.
Photo, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. 

Sawmills on Puget Sound

Puget Sound Maritime historian Joe Baar shares his timeline of the early sawmills on Puget Sound along with some thoughts on their importance to the Mosquito Fleet and other local shipping.

Stetson and Post Sash and Door Company Mill, Seattle, 1882, Courtesy of Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society, Williamson Collection, Neg. 1741-84.

A sawmill’s economic purpose is to extract wealth from the natural world by processing timber into lumber. Sawmills embodied the first mechanical infrastructure in the Puget Sound region after European settlement began during the early 1850s. By the mid-1860s Puget Sound’s mills were exporting lumber to customers around the world, and the earnings from this trade attracted population and investment to the region.

Lumber was Washington State’s leading product in 1889, valued at more than $15 million then, or in today’s terms, almost $400 million. Statewide, lumber production increased from 1.2 trillion board feet in 1889 to 7.3 trillion board feet 40 years later, in 1929.

Sawmills fundamentally consist of machinery. The mill assembled on Henry Yesler’s beach in 1853 had three main parts: a 12-horsepower steam engine, a boiler, and a 48” circular saw. Wear and tear on machinery in use requires constant maintenance to keep the plant in service. We can imagine, then, every sawmill on Puget Sound would likely have a machine shop and possibly a foundry to provide replacement parts for those worn out or broken during the mill’s operation. The alternative to these ancillary services would have been a 6- to 9-month wait for spare parts shipped from San Francisco or New York; this downtime would be long enough to bankrupt most mill owners, so the mill’s capability to repair itself was a critical issue.

Port Blakely Sawmill with lumber ship, possibly the Forest Friend. 

Courtesy of Museum of History and Industry, PEMCO Webster & Stevens Collection.

Steamers of Puget Sound’s Mosquito Fleet also used machinery for motive power, and just as with the sawmills that preceded them, their machinery was subject to wear, tear and breakdowns. Sawmills dotted throughout the area could always restore worn or broken parts much more quickly than they could be shipped from distant manufacturers, and probably at a better price. Finally, in 1882 Robert Moran and his brothers started a ship-repair business at Yesler’s Wharf in Seattle, so 29 years after the first powered vessel came to Puget Sound, maintenance and repair services specific to maritime needs were at last available on a large scale in this region.

• 1828 Hudson's Bay Company establishes a sawmill at Fort Vancouver

• 1846 Great Britain cedes territory south of the 49th parallel to the U.S.

• 1847 Puget Sound Milling Co. leases land 8/20 at Tumwater and incorporates 10/25; purchases mill equipment from HBC for $300 in lumber, delivered to Fort Nisqually @ $16/M board feet

• 1848 January, California gold rush begins at Sutter’s (saw)mill, Coloma, California

• 1851 Denny Party lands on Alki beach; Henry Yesler, in San Francisco, asks John McClain to order components for a steam-powered sawmill, to be shipped to Seattle

• 1852 May, Henry Yesler’s mill machinery is shipped from NYC: 12-hp steam engine, boiler, 48” circular saw

• 1852 October, Henry Yesler arrives in Seattle and convinces Boren and Maynard to give him a 500-foot wide parcel between their properties for the public good 

• 1852 Puget Mill Co. at Port Ludlow established with 2 sash saws by John R. Thorndike and W.P. Sayward

• 1853 late March, Henry Yesler’s mill machinery is assembled on the beach at Seattle and cuts its first log: price $35/M board feet (=$976.50 today)

• 1853 Josiah Keller, Andrew Pope & William Talbot form Puget Mill Co at Port Gamble

• 1853 William Renton forms Port Blakely Mill

• 1853 September, Port Gamble mill in operation with a muley saw

• 1853 Washington Colony Mill on Whatcom Creek established by Henry Roeder, Russell V. Peabody at Whatcom Creek falls

• 1854 Port Madison mill moved from Apple Tree Cove by George A. Meigs

• 1855 Treaties replace the Donation Land Act of 1850, white settlement proceeds

• 1856 Marshall Blinn and William Adams form a corporation in San Francisco to establish a sawmill at Seabeck under the corporate name of Washington Mill Co; their intention is to supply lumber to the gold rush cities of California

• 1856 Battle of Seattle

• 1858 February, Lawrence Grennan & Thomas Cranney’s Saw Mills established at Utsalady

• 1858-9 Port Discovery Mill established by S.L. Mastick & Co., of San Francisco, at Discovery Bay’s Mill Point on the W. shore at Broder’s Road

• 1858 Fraser River gold rush

• 1858 July, Sarah Yesler arrives in Seattle

• 1858 Port Ludlow mill is leased to Amos & Phinney, later to Pope & Talbot

• c.1859 Maynard Mill established on Discovery Bay south of Port Discovery Mill, in the bight at the S. end of the Bay

• 1862 Port Gamble mill ships lumber to 37 ports worldwide, Cape Town to Shanghai

• 1869 March, Henry Yesler’s new mill begins operation, double the capacity of his first facility

• 1876 After Lawrence Grennan’s death, Thomas Cranney sells his Saw Mill at Utsalady to Pope & Talbot’s Puget Mill Co.

• 1877 Seabeck’s population is 400, Seattle’s is 3,100 whites

• 1880s Logging railroads and more robust roads bring down the cost of transporting logs by land enough to allow logging farther than 2 miles from the nearest body of water

• 1882 Moran Brothers begin a marine repair business at Yesler’s Wharf

• 1883 Bellingham’s Colony Wharf opens

• 1886 August, Seabeck’s Washington Mill burns; Seabeck is abandoned until 1914

• 1890 Bellingham’s Ocean Dock constructed by Fairhaven Land Co – lumber interests

• 1890 Port Ludlow mill closes

• 1893 February, The Panic of 1893 begins

• c.1894 Puget Mill Co. moves Cranney’s Utsalady mill machinery to other P&T mills

• 1895 James A. Loggie rents (Washington) Colony Mill at Whatcom falls from Roeder & Peabody and renames the company Whatcom Falls Mill Co.

• 1897 Bellingham’s G Street Wharf opens

• 1898 Port Ludlow mill re-opens

• 1898 Klondike gold rush

• 1903 Towns of Whatcom, Sehome, Bellingham and Fairhaven consolidated as Bellingham

• 1903 Whatcom Falls Mill Co. establishes a new plant at the foot of “Q” St

• 1904 Moran Brothers Shipyard launches battleship USS NEBRASKA

• 1909 A-Y-P Exposition, Seattle

• 1913 Bellingham’s Citizens’ Dock opens

• 1914 Laurence Colman and Arn Allen rehabilitate Seabeck as a YMCA town

• 1918 Bellingham Municipal Dock opens

• 1920 Port of Bellingham formed

• 1935 Port Ludlow Mill finally closes

• 1936 Kenneth Burwell Colman incorporates the Seabeck Conference Grounds as the Seabeck Christian Conference Center, until 1981

• 1940 Whatcom Falls Mill Co. is dissolved

• 1995 Port Gamble’s Puget Mill closes

-- Joe Baar

Moran Brothers Shipyard, Seattle, undated, with lumber ready for loading. 

Courtesy of Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society.

Ghost Ships at Work

A lovely panorama of a Puget Sound marina with snow-capped mountains. Photo, Alan Humphrey.

But wait! What's really going on here? What is familiar about that shape in the middle with the small forest growing out of it?

This is actually the ship La Merced, once a proud schooner, now a permanent part of a breakwater for nautical businesses on Guemes Channel at Anacortes.

Over fifty years La Merced has created its own ecosystem. Photo, Alan Humphrey.

La Merced was built in 1917 in Benicia California, during the ship-building boom of World War I. She carried petroleum products for Standard Oil and other concerns. Like so many of the big ships, she was eventually converted for us as a cannery in Alaska. In 1966 she was sold to Lovric Shipyard in Anacortes where she was filled with sand and dirt and grounded on a bed of rubble. The ship was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1990.

La Merced at Anacortes, circa 1966. Photo, National Register of Historic Places.

There are a number of examples of ships used as breakwaters. La Merced is a bit unusual among these in that the hulk is raised completely out of the water and thus readily visible. In most cases, ships enlisted into service as breakwaters have been sunk to the waterline or just above, with only portions visible at low tide.

D-Day -- June 6, 1944

The most notable historical example are the ghost ships of Normandy -- a flotilla of American and British merchant ships on a suicide mission. As the Allies prepared to storm the beaches of Normandy in an all-out assault on the entrenched German forces, somewhere between 50 and 100 old er or damaged ships limped across the English Channel to be deliberately sunk as part of the complicated landing strategy devised for the treacherous beaches. Called "corncobs," these hulks did their part to create breakwaters to protect troop transports.

The Ghost Ships of British Columbia

We have several examples of ship breakwaters in our own backyard -- almost. Three such installations exist on the inner coast of Vancouver Island -- at Royston, Kelsey Bay, and Oyster Bay, as well as one at Powell River on the mainland of British Columbia. All were built in service of the lumber industry beginning in the 1930s, creating sheltered harbors -- uh, harbours -- for log booms. The Powell River group is the largest floating hulk breakwater in the world, according to Tourism Powell River. The 10 concrete-hulled ships, many of them damaged in service to the U.S. Army, are sunk 12-15 feet underwater and held in place by concrete anchors. 

Ship breakwater at Royston, Vancouver Island. Photo, Gerry Thomasen, [Creative Commons]

A number of the Vancouver Island hulks have Puget Sound connections. The St. Paul is an 1874-built clipper ship which ended her days afloat as a museum ship berthed at Seattle's Hiram M. Chittenden Locks during the 1930s. In 1942 she was towed up to Oyster Bay and sunk. The five-masted barkentine Forest Friend was built in Aberdeen in 1919 and served, naturally enough, the lumber trade, including mills on Puget Sound and Lake Washington. However, her career lasted barely a decade, far less than the St. Paul, before damage and legal troubles sidelined her. At some point in the 1950s she was "holed, sunk, and used as a breakwater," according to her registry. (James) A floating drydock from Puget Sound is an even more unusual addition to the Oyster Bay breakwater.

The St. Paul under tow out of Seattle, circa 1923. 

Courtesy Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society (Williamson Collection)

SOURCES

• Rick James, The Ghost Ships of Royston (Vancouver: Underwater Archaeological Society of British Columbia, 2004).
• Rick James, "Fine Old Ships of Yesteryear continue to serve...but perhaps for not much longer," Resolution (Maritime Museum of British Columbia), Winter 1995, pp. 13-17.
• Joseph Israels II, "Ghost Ships at Normandy," New York Tribune Inc., November, 1944.
• National Register of Historic Places, Registration Form for La Merced, 90000588.
• Brochure: The Giant Hulks Tourist Information, Tourism Powell River.

--Eleanor Boba

Lake Union: The Human Impact

Dick Wagner, the Founding Director of The Center for Wooden Boats, explores the ecology of the lake destined to unite the saltwater and freshwater sides of the Ship Canal. This essay was originally published on the CWB blog Shavings.

Engraving of Lake Union, 1891. Courtesy University of Washington Special Collections.

Western Washington has a mystique. It’s a unique blend of snow-capped mountains, misty rain forests, waters everywhere (an inland sea, bays, lakes, rivers), whales, elk, salmon, and mild, mosquito-free climate. These diverse natural elements are entwined in a complex, self-sustaining order. The threads of its beautiful tapestry began to weave together about 13,000 years ago when the 3,000-foot-deep Vashon Glacier retreated. 

Unfortunately, after thousands of years of perfect primal coordination, this mixture of natural wonders is falling apart. A textbook example of why this is happening to our once perfectly-aligned environment is Seattle’s little Lake Union, now one of the most heavily-altered water systems in western Washington.

The Pre-industrial Lake

When the lake was at its prime, many shoreline plants were of value to the birds and fish and also the human inhabitants. Native tribespeople used Oregon grape for food, made dye from its roots, and an infusion of its bark for skin and mouth sores. They employed yarrow for hair wash, perfume, colds, stomach trouble, and as a general tonic. Skunk cabbage roots were an emergency food; the raw root is as hot as a pepper. It was also used as a blood purifier and for stomach and bladder trouble. Cabbage leaves were made into a healing poultice and also rolled into berry containers or drinking cups. The blossoms, when heated, were applied to rheumatic parts for relief. Springtime skunk cabbage was gobbled by the elk. 

Native healers drew on nightshade leaves to make a drink for liver and yellow jaundice. The juice from the berries thinned blood. A poultice of nightshade leaves was used for rheumatism, skin diseases and abscesses. Natives cooked lady fern and bracken roots and served them with salmon eggs. Nettle was peeled into thin strips and twisted into strong twine for securing bone and stone tool handles and duck nets. Spirea stems also were used to make twine. Pond lily roots were heated and applied to rheumatic body parts. 

When the wapato was lost, native peoples also was lost a cash cow that needed no cultivation. Wapato is the root of arrowhead, an edible tuber. Duwamish women felt for the roots with their bare feet while walking in the shallows, pulled them, and brought them back by canoe to the longhouse, where they were roasted. This “baked potato” was considered haute cuisine. The wapato by Lake Union was so plentiful that there was a surplus to trade with other native groups. Wapato was the chief part of the Duwamish economy for many generations.

The Era of Change

The first residents of Lake Union were about 100 Native Americans whom we call the Duwamish. In the basin of Lakes Union-Washington-Sammamish there were approximately 2,000 more Native Americans. Before the coming of European and American settlers, a roughly balanced relationship was maintained between plants, animals and humans. Today, about 500,000 people live around the lake and about a million live in the greater basin. A growing human population creates buildings, highways, bulkheads, docks, dams and parking lots that all challenge this region’s ecological equilibrium. The process of filling in a South Lake Union shoreline in 1962 forced a mountain up from the lake’s bottom - a mountain of muck. Now a red navigation buoy is moored to warn of the peak of the lake’s pinnacle only 10’ below the surface of the water.

The filling of Lake Union’s shoreline and building of docks and bulkheads began in 1870 and continued until 1967. Between the Fremont Bridge and University Bridge are 700 acres of water. It used to be 900 acres. The fill displaced shallow water which was an incubator, home, hotel and restaurant for a chain of plants and animals. Small fish, including minnows, salmon and trout fry, used the shallows to feed. The plants on and adjoining the lake included wapato, skunk cabbage, nightshade, cranberries, elderberries, smartweed, lady’s thumb, nettles, spirea, miralus, forget-me-nots, yellow mustard, water celery, pond lily, camas, Oregon grape, coltsfoot, yarrow, duckweed, cattail, willow, cottonwood, alder and Indian plum. 

Birds feeding in the shallows included killdeer, flycatchers, red-winged blackbirds, white-crowned sparrows, towhees, robins, black swifts, kingfishers, ospreys, Cooper’s hawks, chickadees, tule wrens, red-backed sandpipers, greater and lesser yellow-legs, great blue herons, goldfinches, bitterns, Virginia rails, and the herring, short-billed, ring-billed, California, and glacous-winged gulls. Nesting waterfowl were pied-billed grebes, mallards, coots, and cormorants, and meadowlarks. Migrating waterfowl, including red breasted mergansers, scaups, wood ducks, pintail, buffleheads, eared grebes, western grebes, common loons, bald pates, blue-winged teals, shovellers, green-winged teals, gadwalls, dowitchers, bald eagles, black-tailed plovers, whistling swans, and Canada geese, found food in the shallows, which also were home to frogs, tadpoles, turtles, snails, crawfish, mussels, dragonflies, damsel flies, nightjars, protezoans, mice, muskrats, weasels, otters, mink, and beavers.

When creatures lose their usual places for food, nesting, hibernation or refuge, they leave. There are no more meadowlarks around Lake Union because there are no more meadows. Fortunately, even though the salmon population has dramatically declined in Lake Washington, there are still enough near-shore habitats for the Lake Union sockeye fry to linger for a year. My litmus test is that the great blue herons and kingfishers still hang out in the shallow areas for a good meal of young sockeye. On the other hand, a litmus test was not needed in 2008 to prove that the waterfowl population, both permanent and migrating, was virtually wiped out on Lake Union. The only birds now seen are a stunningly reduced number of Canada geese, mallards, coots, seagulls, kingfishers, blue herons, and cormorants. The weasel and mink are gone. There are small numbers of muskrats, otters and beavers. 

In the late 1960s our child’s first words were “quack quack.” Mallard talk on Lake Union now is virtually lost, but not forgotten. 

In the beginning Lake Union’s connection to Puget Sound was Ross Creek at the north end, which emptied into Salmon Bay, an inlet of the Sound. The 8’ to 20’ flood tide pushed up the creek to its mouth where the Fremont Bridge now stands. The brackish water of the creek and Salmon Bay was an environmental adjustment for the salmon coming home from the ocean to spawn in the lake’s freshwater streams and also for the salmon fry waiting to grow big enough to swim in the Pacific Ocean. Native legends refer to whales entering Lake Union through a hidden tunnel. In fact, any of them could have done it simply riding the tide into the lake. It’s probable that fish-eating orcas would be tempted to ambush the home-coming salmon at the mouth of Ross Creek.

When the Ballard Locks were completed in 1916, a convenient connection between the lake and the Sound was provided for boaters. There was no more transition between saltwater and freshwater. This was an inconvenient connection for salmon and even the whales. In addition, road and trolley tracks were installed on fill around the lake. Salmon spawning streams were redirected into pipes as their outlets were filled and bulk-headed; these pipes were barren of the pebbles needed for fertile eggs to be laid.

As the lakeside developed, the shallows disappeared. Bright street lights were installed. The sounds of motor vehicles, seaplanes, trolleys, sawmills and boatyards replaced the calls of birds. The forests around the lake were logged off. This cut-and-build development expelled the nesting places and sealed off the sand and gravel that was the habitat of small fish, frogs, salamanders and turtles.

Because of the Locks and because the logged lake basin allowed stormwater to drain into the lake, it was deliberately lowered two-and-a-half feet each fall and raised the same amount each spring. The change of depth had an impact on remaining marshlands. In addition, during our rainy season, the stormwater pipes overflowed and added street and sidewalk dirt and trash to the lake. The lakeside didn’t have a sewer system installed until 1967. Because of the steady flow of the Cedar River through Lake Union, the streams in pipes and the underwater springs, the lake was relatively clean. The crayfish were so prevalent in the lake that they were commercially fished through the 1970s. Crayfish will not live in toxic waters.

There was little or no direct human predation of the plants and animals of Lake Union but new species introduced to Lake Union caused unexpected impacts. The Norway rat was the scourge of the shoreside. They ate the bird eggs in the marshland nests. The rats came from Europe via trade vessels. Carp came from Asia via Europe. They root up the shallow water plants and roots that were food for waterfowl. There are now 24 non-native fish that have been introduced to the lake, including smallmouth and largemouth bass, which eat juvenile salmon. The non-native Eurasian watermilfoil dominates much of the shoreline and the non-native Himalayan blackberries have smothered many historic waterside plants.

Lake Union Today

What Lake Union was we will never see again. Even if there was a skunk cabbage farm on the lakeshore, the elk wouldn’t dare try to cross the congested traffic to get a nibble. What we can achieve is a lake sustained to the best possible state of ecologic balance. 

How can we go about this?

We can crusade against the further building of lake-edge bulkheads and roads. We can advocate for the removal of all non-native plants and against the introduction of non-native fish. Then, seed-by-seed, drop-by-drop, bird-by-bird, fish-by-fish, Lake Union can recover some of the elements that were integral parts of its Northwest mystique. 

Lake Union Dry Dock, Courtesy of Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society.

The Short Career of the Alida

This iconic image of the Alida snug up to the shoreline of Seattle about 1870 has been frequently reproduced in newspapers and books. The Territorial University of Washington can be seen on the crest of the hill. The log pond is that of Yesler's Mill on the waterfront. Courtesy of Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society.

In 1870 local Washington papers announced a new member of Puget Sound's Mosquito Fleet.

The "Alida." -- This new steamer, formerly known as the Tacoma, intended for mail and passenger service between Olympia, Port Townsend and Victoria, and owned by the Starr Bros. of Portland, under the construction of Mr. Hammond, is now nearly completed, and will make her trial trip in about ten days, and on and after the first of July run regularly between the above named ports. Her length of keel is 115 feet; depth of hold 6 feet. She has one boiler with six ten-inch flues, and forty-four four-inch tubes, with a heating surface of twenty-two hundred feet; double engines of two hundred horse power, with 14 1/2 inch cylinders; and one mast with a jib-sail. On the upper deck there will be twelve state-rooms, one ladies' cabin, a dining saloon, 60 feet long, and a promenade deck forward of the pilot-house, and one aft of the ladies saloon. The model and powerful engines indicate considerable speed, whilst her general appearance in creditable to her builders. (The Commercial Age, June 18, 1870)

Lewis & Dryden describes the Alida as a "neat little craft" and explains  an early change in ownership. Apparently a man named Nash had secured the federal contract for mail delivery between Olympia and Victoria and commissioned the building of the new steamer to that end in Olympia, but for financial reasons he turned the vessel over to the Starr brothers before it was complete.  This may explain the reference in the above citation to the name Tacoma.

It is common to find references to the Alida's 20 year history. All agree that the steamer ended her days by fire in 1890 while anchored off Gig Harbor. Apparently a brush fire sent burning embers on the wind which set fire to the ship. However, a review of sources indicates that she ceased active life much earlier. An article in the Seattle Daily Post-Intelligencer from 1884 states:

The Isabel, Alida and Otter have long been lying in Gig Harbor, out of commission. The Otter has been condemned and been shoved up on the beach. She will probably never again be floated, while the Alida is not expected ever again to turn a wheel. ("Steamboat Matters," April 16, 1884)

The Alida's short career was due both to her lack of sea-worthiness and to the cutthroat competition that abounded among the Puget Sound steamers of the day. In the days before highways and trucking firms, the cost of transporting mail, freight, and passengers throughout the inland waters of Puget Sound and across the Strait of Juan de Fuca was critical in determining success or failure on the water. Larger, faster boats had a natural advantage. 

An engraving of the Alida from Lewis & Dryden's Marine History of the Pacific Northwest, 1895.

Only a year after the Alida had entered service, her owners, the Starr brothers (the Oregon Railway and Navigation Co.), put a larger steamer, the North Pacific, on the Victoria mail run. The Alida was assigned to service only inland ports from Olympia to Seattle to Port Townsend, sometimes meeting up with her sister ship, the Isabel, which made the crossing to Victoria. The Starrs also faced stiff competition from a firm headed by George S. Wright which operated the large steamers Eliza Anderson and Olympia.

Competition between steamers sometimes involved actual races, both short and long. These events were trumpeted in the press and were the occasion for heavy betting. The Washington Standard, an Olympia paper, reported on one such contest in 1873:

The steamers Zephyr and Alida engaged in their usual weekly race last Wednesday, blowing their whistles at the same moment, casting off lines together, and starting from the dock almost abreast. The captains and owners show considerable pluck, but as the victory is always on one side -- in favor of the Zephyr -- we fail to see the object of this strife. ("Race," October 11, 1873)

This race exemplified the rivalry between a side-wheeler (the Alida) and a stern-wheeler (the Zephyr). More than once in the history of the little steamers, the operators of side-wheelers attempted unsuccessfully to drive stern-wheelers from the scene with unproven safety concerns.

The Alida came out on top in a contest of a different nature in 1876. It seems another vessel, the Eureka, accused the crew of the Alida of cutting the ship's hawser (mooring rope), perhaps deliberately.

The Eureka* claimed $30 for the hawser cut, $30 for dragging the bottom for its recovery, $25 for loss of half a day's time, and $10 for a steamer to tow her out of the harbor -- $95 in all. The plaintiff lost not only the damages but the costs of suit, amounting to upwards of $50. (Washington Standard, August 12, 1876)

In the mid 1870s there are newspaper mentions of the Alida carrying passengers and freight around Puget Sound, although it appears she had lost the all-important mail delivery contract to the North Pacific and others. An item in the Washington Standard from July 8, 1876, notes that "the (ss) Alida was obliged to get a special permit to carry the large number of passengers returning [to Olympia] from the Seattle 4th celebration." A similar item in that paper from 1874 refers to the vessel as "the old (ss) Alida" -- only five years after her keel was laid! Nostalgia seems to have been a manufactured commodity in many cases.

Mentions of the Alida in newspapers peter out about 1877 and it is likely that she was spent more than a decade cooling her heels in one or more ports-of-call. She did make one attempt to escape her fate. The Seattle Daily P-I reported in 1883,

The steamboats Alida and Isabel, which have been moored off the railroad wharf for some months, on Saturday last dragged their anchors and went to sea without commander or pilot. The steamer Otter, lying at the wharf, was sent after them. She towed them into Quartermaster Harbor [Vashon Island], where they are now anchored. (January 13, 1883)

The geography of this paragraph is somewhat questionable. It is highly unlikely that the sisters left Puget Sound. A likely scenario is that they slipped their moorings at Gig Harbor and headed into the Sound where they were overtaken by the Otter in the passage between that community and Vashon Island.

Despite her few years on the water, the Alida, like many of the Mosquito Fleet, left an indelible mark on maritime history. An 1883 item in the Seattle Daily Post-Intelligencer refers to the little steamer as "that favorite of the traveler of by-gone days" -- those days being only five or six years distant. The column details the visit of the former captain of the Alida  to Seattle, noting "Mr. Harker looks as young and handsome as when in the '70s he daily mashed the girls in the towns on the route of the Alida." (August 18, 1883)

A scale model of the Alida graces the gallery at Foss Maritime Seaport in Tacoma.

-- Eleanor Boba

Sources for this essay include Lewis & Dryden's Marine History of the Pacific Northwest; Joe Williamson and Jim Gibbs, Maritime Memories of Puget Sound; various articles from the Seattle Daily Post-Intelligencer, the Seattle Times, and the Washington Standard.

*Note, this would not be the ferryboat Eureka, now berthed at San Francisco's Hyde Street Pier, which was built in 1890.