Bay CrossingsBellingham
BELLINGHAM BY THE BAY
September, 2000
By Bruce Bellingham
Fred
"Spike" Manley decided to stretch his legs a little bit as the sun went
down. He climbed off his boat in the Marina to take a walk along the dock.
"It was real windy and I
noticed a small sailboat that was clearly in trouble," says Spike.
"Then I saw a little head bobbing in the water. I thought, ‘Uh-oh.’"
Spike called to neighbor who
rushed to keep the boat from being dashed on the rocks. Meanwhile Spike climbed
out to the rocks and managed to grab hold of the stricken man. "His hands
were so cold, he couldn’t grab a hold of me," Spike recalls. "I saw
he was elderly and knew he didn’t have much time — the water was so
cold."
Spike and his neighbor managed to
save the fellow, who is 83-years old, and his boat. The man — a retired
official of the Harbor Tenants Association.
The rescue comes at a time where
the new Harbormaster, Ed Ross, is calling for more people to be able to live
aboard their boats on the San Francisco waterfront. He says it would only help
safety and security. Spike’s bravery seems to support Ross’ argument.
"I’ve never seen human
ashes poured into the ocean before," remarked Tim Delaney, a bar owner in
the Marina District. "As the ashes sink below the surface, they begin to
dissipate. The light hits them in such a supernatural way. This, I was thinking,
is a man’s life."
Tim stood on the deck of the
"Alpha," which belonged to his friend, Neal Heis. Neal died in June
after a long bout with cancer.
Tim delivered a few remarks —
surrounded by a flotilla of four other boats. They circled within a cove just
off the Marin Headlands as trumpeter Mack Horton, from the Walt Tolleson
Orchestra, played "San Francisco (Open Your Golden Gate)" just beyond
the Golden Gate.
Bill Kelly, who worked for the
Matson Cruise Lines for many years recalls the time he stood on the deck of the
S.S. Mariposa as the ashes of the brilliant and curmudgeonly Charles McCabe were
scattered over his beloved Pacific.
"As the sun came up, we
toasted Charlie, glasses filled with Irish whisky," Bill recalls.
Today, Bill is a great champion
of expanding the ferry systems on the Bay. "When we get a big quake
here," he says," it’ll be the only way to go — it might also
get people out of their cars."
Al Hart, who recently retired as
morning anchor at KCBS Radio, says the architects of the ferry systems have so
far failed to provide enough parking at the various terminals.
"The same problem exists at
the BART stations, " Al adds.
Aside from the advantages of
staying off the freeway, it’s endlessly fascinating to hear the conversations
on the ferry commute.
On Anna Kourakova’s ability as
a tennis player: "Who cares? Did you see her on the cover of G.Q.?"
"Saw ‘Titanic — The
Musical’ at the Orpheum. Say, how many life preservers does this boat carry,
anyway?"
The murder of a guest who
appeared on the "Jerry Springer Show" was discussed at the bar on the
Larkspur ferry.
"Did you ever notice how
those big security guards on Jerry Springer always let the guests land a few
blows before they step in?"
Ya know, if I bought a warehouse
in SOMA back in the 80s, I wouldn’t be on this ferry going to the damn office
today. I’m going to the bar..."
Plans for developing Pier 45 as
an "Interactive San Francisco Museum" is a hot topic. Joked one
commuter, "It’s a lot safer than visiting the real Haight-Ashbury."
Tourists say the darndest things.
The legendary Powell-Hyde Street
cable car — launched a very long time ago — turns around amid the
less-than-picturesque public housing projects near Fisherman’s Wharf.
"Imagine!" a woman
scornfully observed. "Why would they put those pretty trolleys near those
ugly buildings?"
"This Flood Building,"
inquired a fellow in baseball hat and searsucker shorts, freezing in the summer
wind. "When did San Francisco have a flood??"
It’s true San Francisco has
witnessed many disasters. But a flood is not among them.
"There have been all kinds
of catastrophes here but the residents haven’t been underwater — not yet,
anyway," stated Sue Nammi, with the U.S. Geological Survey. "The only
big wave we’ve seen is the kind the fans make at Candlestick Park."
Quakes, fires, typhoons, typhoid,
water spouts, downturns, updrafts, overdraughts, shipwrecks, sweat shops,
assassinations, bad-acid rain, balcony collapses, nor’westers, squalls,
squalor, errant schools of squid, pyramid schemes, colic, cholera, panic
attacks, STD’s, riptides, rip offs, Ripple, rotgut, rents-run-riot, AIDS, ague,
catarrh mudslides, dueling publishers, hail, gas leaks, rats, sunspots,
sinkholes, ozone depletion, road rage, cell-phone frenzy, margin calls,
meteorites, tons of dead anchovies, intermittent drivel and fetid fog.
All kinds of disasters — but
nary a flood.
Well, maybe just the flood of
tourists.
Bruce Bellingham is the author of
Bellingham by the Bay. He may be reached
at bellsf@sirius.com