The fortunes of war have smiled on a group of old wooden steam schooners that have long been tied up in obscure waterways of San Francisco Bay. Abnormal demands for cargo space in the transportation of war materials have necessitated the return of these obsolete carriers to coastwise service. Many of the small ships have lain in the mud flats for a decade or more; some of them have been given reasonable care during their lengthy lay-up; some have been neglected and they lie with their planks rotting and their engines pitted by rust; and some steam schooners have actually fallen into a state of decay and are being washed away by the action of the tides.
To get to know the story of these little- known “Builders of the West,” one must visualize the early days of California, when the men who are the lumber tycoons of today were straggling mill operators supplying the growing railroads with redwood ties and the tanners with tanbark. Pioneer firms such as Dollar, Linderman, McCormick, and Union Lumber Company are still in existence; but the once familiar names of Albion Lumber Company, Mendocino Lumber Company, Kimball, Andrews, and Beadle have been forgotten. Hay and Wright, Mathew Turner, John Dickie, George Boole, Charles White, and H. D. Bendixen, early-day builders of steam schooners, are part of the past.
The ragged Mendocino coast stretching some 200 miles north of San Francisco was the source of most of the world’s supply of redwood. The giant timber tracts were not accessible from inland, so the lumber was hauled down the coast by tiny, two-masted sailing schooners, each having a load capacity of about 70,000 to 100,000 board feet of lumber. These miniature ships bore colorful names such as Lizzie Prien, Bill the Butcher, Wing and Wing, and Sacramento. Dozens of these carriers plied the coastal waters to the lumber ports of Russian Gulch, Bear Harbor, Timber Cove, and others.
The coast was rocky and there were very few harbors; consequently the vessels had to load in little coves by means of apron chutes, reaching from the 75-foot cliffs down to the water level. Split railroad ties, posts, wood, and tanbark were slid down these chutes to the moored schooners under the outboard end, and retarded when over the deck of the ship by means of a small apron, hinged to raise and to stop the cargo. Later the apron chute method was superseded by a wire chute method. A wire cable was stretched from the cliffs out into the ocean and anchored. The ship lay underneath the lower end and slings of material were let down the cable by gravity feed and were lowered when just above the deck. In some of the ports this means of loading was dangerous as the schooners were forced to moor too near the shore and wallowing in the breakers met their doom in the treacherous surfs.
The passing of the two-masted schooners came about when some ingenious mariner hitched a steam engine to one of the schooners and thus made the ship respond to the will of the pilot rather than to the elements. No longer were the coastal ships forced to lie dormant awaiting a wind to take them on their way. No longer were the small rivers and shallow harbors inaccessible to schooners. Soon, ships were loading from alongside wharfs at mills on inland waterways rather than from precarious outside ports by wire chute method.
Generally, the steam schooners were of wood hull, propelled by a single screw and powered by a small reciprocating steam engine. Their dimensions were 130 to 200 feet in length, from 32 to 40 feet beam, and about 14 feet in depth. They had a load capacity upwards from 200,000 board feet of lumber, and were single enders (engines aft) with one loading gear. Approximately one-third of the cargo was stowed below deck and the remainder carried on deck, securely lashed with chains and tumbuckles. The first schooners converted to steam were the Celia, Surprise, Laguna, and Lacme. They still carried sails and used them whenever convenient to do so. Steam schooners built after the first conversions also carried sails until 1912. The style of the first steam schooners was similar to the sailing ships and it wasn’t until the general use of wharfs that the design was changed from the schooner stem to the round stern. Later schooners were double enders (engines amidships) and had two gears for loading; and still later vessels with three and four gears came into existence.
The Point Arena, Prentice, and Newsboy were among the first steam schooners launched with engines. The Newsboy was used by the Robert Dollar Company to haul lumber from Usal to San Francisco. She was a single ender with one gear, about 125 feet in length and carried about 150,000 board feet. She was lost in April, 1906, when she struck the bar at Eureka.
L. E. White Company, one of the earliest companies on the Mendocino coast, located at Greenwood, launched the steam schooners Alcazar and Alcatraz. A. W. Beadle and Fred Linderman also placed steam schooners in operation. One of the early steam schooners, the Brunswick, was built by the Union Lumber Company in 1898 and was approximately 120 feet long. The need for a vessel with greater load capacity prompted the owners to rebuild the Brunswick. She was hauled out at Alameda, cut in half, the two ends hauled apart and 40 feet was built into her length. For over 40 years this ship carried lumber in the coastwise service until she was tied up about one year ago. The Brunswick is still in good condition and is ready for operation if conditions warrant.
Lumber ports which, before, were reached only with great difficulty by stagecoach, were now reached by steam schooner within 24 hours, so several of the schooners were outfitted to carry passengers. As many as 60 passengers were accommodated by some of the schooners.
The first steam schooners were all coal burners and it was not until the launching of the Pasadena that oil was used. This first oil burner on the Pacific coast was built in 1887 by Hay and Wright and was operated by Kerchoff Cuzner Company. She was looked upon rather dubiously by mariners and even the port authorities at San Francisco made her extinguish her fires at the bar and be towed into her berth.
Skippers of the steam schooners hugged the coast line to escape the heavy weather that often remains offshore. There was a saying that the masters knew the bark of every farm dog along the California coast. When the ships ran into heavy weather they often met with disaster for there was not the room to maneuver that there was farther out to sea. One ship that went aground was the Crescent City, which struck a rock near Fish Rock, in 1903. She was so close in that the gangplank was lowered and passengers and crew walked ashore. The boilers and engine of the Crescent City were salvaged and placed in the Bee, a steam schooner under construction at that time for Fred Linderman, a veteran shipping man still operating in San Francisco.
The Bee had an interesting career. She was a smart little coaster 160 feet in length and with a load capacity of 550,000 board feet. She was run coastwise by Linderman until 1907 when she was sold to the Western Lumber Company and renamed the Westerner. She operated out of Grays Harbor until 1909 when the ship was chartered for a trip to Central America. Returning with a cargo of coffee, the Westerner ran into heavy weather and filled with water. The cargo swelled and burst the decks. Towed to Salinas Cruz, Mexico, she lay idle for a long time. She was finally towed to San Francisco and tied up in Alameda by a lumber firm who intended to rebuild her. For some reason this was never done and she lay idle until she rotted.
The Wasp, a sister-ship, operated in the coastwise trade until World War I, when she was taken to the Gulf and operated in the Central American mahagony trade. One trip the Wasp encountered a hurricane in the Gulf and foundered. The captain, his wife, the crew, and a dog took to the small boats. During the long stormy night they lay in the lee of the Wasp. When morning came they discovered that their ship had turned turtle during the night. The survivors were picked up by some fisherfolk and brought to a Florida port. A salvage crew was sent out and the ill- fated craft was towed, keel side up, to Pensacola. She was righted and sold by the owners to New Orleans interests who operated her in the Gulf lumber trade for several years until she finally was a total loss by fire in some Texas port.
The Hornet, another of Linderman’s vessels, ran coastwise until 1918 when she joined the mahagony fleet. After the war, she was returned to the coast and was operated by a third owner in the lumber trade. Finally the ship was sold to Hawaiian interests which used her to haul cattle between the islands until she was lost about 1921.
Many of the schooners served under various house flags and hauled sundry cargoes. The Cleone, ex-Gualala, a Linderman schooner, operated for six years under Linderman’s flag. Then she was sold to A. W. Beadle, who in turn chartered her to the Robert Dollar Company. For a while she was used to haul cedar logs from Ban- don to Grays Harbor, a distance of 30 miles. Later the ship was operated by the George Beadle Company, who contracted to transport bulk gasoline to Crescent City in tanks installed on deck. In April, 1931, the Cleone met her fate off the Mendocino coast.
An early-day fleet that is still in operation is the Daisy fleet of the S. S. Freeman Company of San Francisco. The company was originally established by a William Mitchell, who died and whose operations were taken over by S. S. Freeman. The fleet was composed of the double-end wooden steam schooners Daisy Mitchell, Daisy Freeman, Daisy, Daisy Putnam, Daisy Gadsby, Daisy Mathews, and the Daisy Gray.
The career of the Daisy Freeman is centered around the building of San Simeon Castle, 200 miles south of San Francisco, by the publisher, William Randolph Hearst. The Daisy Freeman was, at the time, engaged in hauling lumber and general cargo from the Northwest to southern California ports. She was delegated to transport a large part of Hearst’s priceless collections, including statuary and medieval castles, from San Francisco to the port of San Simeon, near the Hearst estate. With the depression, the Daisy Freeman was tied up and never used again and eventually rotted away.
The Daisy was sold to an L. Segelhurst who operated her in the San Francisco-Los Angeles trade. Later she was purchased by the Hammond Lumber Company, renamed the Redwood, and used in the lumber trade. In 1939 the Redwood was destroyed by fire at sea. The Daisy Putnam was lost on the coast in 1929. The Daisy Mathews was lost in 1940 off the port of Trinidad, California. Linderman now operates the Daisy Gadsby and Freeman is running the Daisy Gray.
The forerunner of the vast McCormick Steamship Company was the old steam schooner Cascade, built at the Bendixen yard, Humboldt Bay, in 1905. She was larger than the other early-day schooners and was built for Puget Sound and Columbia River service. McCormick assembled a fleet of the following wooden steam schooners: Willamette, Yoscmile, Merced, Multnomah, Wapama, Celilo, Klamath, Ernest A. Meyer, Wakeena, Everett, and Yellowstone. The Cascade was sold to Hawaiian interests who used her in interisland service. The Willamette was sold later to a Captain Dietrick who converted the ship into a whale reduction plant and renamed her the California. Later, a John Gregg purchased the ship, and in 1940 the Oliver Olson Company bought the vessel, rebuilt her to haul lumber, and placed her in operation over the same route she had plied many years ago. She is now the Susan Olson. The Wapama is now the Tongass, operating in the Alaskan trade, and the Celilo is tied up. The Merced was lost on her second trip and the Klamath was lost when she grounded off Mendocino coast. The Everett, largest wooden steam schooner ever built on the Pacific coast, was lost by fire off the Mendocino coast. She was 236 feet long, had a 46-foot beam and a depth of 19 feet. She carried 1,750,000 feet of lumber.
The coast lines of California and Oregon are strewn with the wreckage of steam schooners. Many of them met their fate due to the long standing practice of skippers following the shore too closely. Shallow ports harboring dangerous bars have been the death of many other steam schooners. One of the worst wrecks was that of the Brooklyn, a small ship 137 feet long and carrying a load of but 350,000 board feet. On a stormy November day in 1931 she sailed out of Humboldt Bay and struck the bar, breaking up almost immediately. Despite the heavy weather, coast guardsmen attempted to rescue the crew without avail. After several days, the search for survivors was called off. Days later and miles from where the Brooklyn met her doom, the second mate was found clinging alive to a hatch cover. He is serving today on a steam schooner.
Many of the vessels are old and in poor condition. The newest steam schooner is the Esther Johnson and she is over 15 years old. Every winter takes toll of at least one steam schooner. Their seams open up during heavy weather and they founder. Last winter it was the Stanwood, Bandon, and Davenport. The Stanwood was towed to San Francisco and repaired and today is operating. The Bandon is still unrepaired and is tied up at Coos Bay. The Davenport foundered off the coast of Oregon during a heavy gale. She was kept afloat by the lumber cargo and towed to Astoria by a passing oil tanker. Repaired later at Portland, the Davenport re-entered service but during winter months has been kept out of service by owners not wanting to risk the old craft in winter storms. This winter it was the Willapa, foundered off Gold Beach, Oregon, with a load of one million feet of lumber. Her crew of 24 was rescued by coast guardsmen.
Two of the old steam schooners, the Tahoe and the Hoquiam, have been withdrawn from the lumber trade and converted into bulk carriers. They are now hauling garbage to sea for the City of Oakland. Three times a week the ships head out to a spot approximately 30 miles off the California coast and 10 miles southeast of the Farallone Islands. Some two days are necessary to load a vessel, but with favorable seas, the load can be dumped within a few minutes. However, as long as 10 hours have been taken to dispose of one load at sea, under unfavorable conditions. At such times sea water is pumped on board and the refuse is washed down the slides by a sprinkling system. The Tahoe was built on Humboldt Bay in 1907. She is of wooden construction, 179 feet long, 38 foot beam, and had a lumber load capacity of 750,000 board feet. For nearly 20 years this schooner, along with her sister-ship, was operated in coastwise service. In 1925, the Signal Steamship Company, owned by Linderman, purchased the vessels and converted them into garbage scows. Ten bunkers were built on either side of the deck and each ship had a cargo capacity of 600 tons of garbage.
The garbage ships carry a personnel of 12 and a city inspector to give the order to dump. A long series of complaints from coastal cities that their beaches were strewn with Oakland garbage led to the appointment of an inspector to accompany the garbage scows on each trip. It is his sole job to decide the exact location for discharge. Inspectors take bearings opposite the Farallone Islands and then determine the location by calculating the distance by pocket watch and the speed of the ship. On several occasions, deliberate slowing down of engines by facetious engineers have thrown the inspector’s calculations awry by several miles. Late in December, 1941, the Tahoe was returning from the dumping grounds when she sighted a submarine. The skipper swung his ship and rammed the submersible. Little credence was given the story by the 12th Naval District Headquarters but circumstances bolstered the captain’s story. The scow shipped water and finally was placed in dry dock for inspection. A portion of the keel had been ripped away and underwriters acknowledged that the ship must have hit some metal object. This controversy will give water-front politicians another subject for argument until the close of the war, when the truth may be learned.
The war has taken toll of the humble steam schooner as well as of the larger craft. Recently off the California coast, the Dorothy Philips was shelled by a submarine riding the surface. She was damaged but was able to make port. Another schooner, the steel ship Cynthia Olson, ex-Coquina, was 700 miles off the west coast, in service of the Army, when she was attacked. Her radio flashed a distress signal but nothing more was heard. To this day no word has been heard from the unfortunate craft and it may be assumed that she was lost with all hands. She had been in lay-up 11 years prior to her recent service.
Two sister-ships, the Ryder Hanify and the Ann Hanify, units of a once large fleet operated by the Hanify Lumber Company, are in use after being idle for over 10 years. The war has been the factor in making use of the old ships but this same factor has been an obstacle in making more expensive use of idle steam schooners. Insurance rates, always higher for the wooden vessels, soared sky high at the outbreak of hostilities. One ship was taking on a cargo of lumber at a northwest port when the war began. War-risk premiums were placed in effect immediately, upping the cost of the return trip to her home port of San Francisco by $3,000. The owners simply paid off the crew and tied up the ship at the port for the duration.
There are many mysteries of ships and their men; and the steam schooners are no exception. The Quinalt was plying her course down the coast when the mate had occasion to call the captain. He was unable to locate the skipper and a search of the vessel failed to disclose him. The weather was fair and the sea was calm, so there was little likelihood that he had been washed overboard, accidentally. It has been assumed that the master went overboard with suicidal intent, but there is little evidence to back up that supposition.
The days of the steam schooners are coming to an end. No longer do they travel northbound and lie in the surf while taking on a load by wire chute. The larger offshore vessels can now navigate the dredged rivers up to the wharfs of the mills and load forty times as much cargo as the steam schooner can carry. The steam schooners are ancient, ranging from 35 to 50 years old; their engines are worn and their hulls are aged. The accommodations are uninviting to the modern sailor. It may be stated safely that with the cessation of hostilities the steam schooners will be junked; but if they will have been able to proffer any aid toward the annihilation of a common foe, they will have been well worth the added cost incurred in the last attempt to use them.