John Leale was at the helm of San Francisco ferryboats for 41 years, from 1873 to 1914, the Golden Age of ferries on the Bay. He was in his prime as ferry service reached its zenith in the late 1800’s and played an important role in the relief effort after the Great Earthquake. He lived long enough to see the opening of the Bay Bridge that would nearly destroy ferry service in the Bay Area. His charming memoir, freighted with wit and wisdom, is a distilled accounting of Leales’ 125,000 round-trip crossings of San Francisco Bay.
Published: February, 2000
John Leale was at the helm of San Francisco ferryboats for 41 years, from 1873 to 1914, the Golden Age of ferries on the Bay. He was in his prime as ferry service reached its zenith in the late 1800’s and played an important role in the relief effort after the Great Earthquake. He lived long enough to see the opening of the Bay Bridge that would nearly destroy ferry service in the Bay Area. His charming memoir, freighted with wit and wisdom, is a distilled accounting of Leales’ 125,000 round-trip crossings of San Francisco Bay.
"Tule sailor" is a disparaging epithet once applied to inland boatmen by blue water sailors. The common great bulrush, tule, was more in evidence in the back country of the Sacramento River in the past than it is today where miles and miles of river land have been reclaimed. Then, the tules, with their long hollow reed-like spikes, covered for miles the Sacramento River in its lower reaches. Leale explains, "In the old days, when it was necessary to make a line fast on shore to heave on, and there were no trees or brush to make fast to but only tule were at hand, we used to take in a large armful of tule, and with a long end take a round turn and hitch, then repeat the same with a stake driver to which to make fast the end. You could then heave away until the line parted. I might add that this is a "tule sailor" trick."
Arrival in San Francisco
We arrived at San Francisco midnight of November fourth, 1864 and docked at Folsom Street Wharf. On landing we took a bus to Third Street Wharf; from there a whitehall boatman rowed us over to the Potrero to the home of a relative, at a point which later became the Union Iron Works. Third Street at that time ended at about Townsend Street or Steamboat Point. Between there and the Potrero was a large bay at the head of which was San Francisco’s first Butchertown. I later learned that it was a long way by land from the Potrero to Third Street with its muddand y unpaved road. I recall that the morning after my arrival, I meandered to the top of a nearby hill, and after surveying the beautiful bay and mountains before me and realizing that I was indeed in California, I began to do some quiet prospecting-for there were croppings in sight, and I had heard so much!
California’s First Railroad
In 1856 a railroad was built between Freeport and Folsom. This was California’s first railroad and not until 1864 was the second road built. This was the San Francisco-San Jose Railroad. The Central Pacific Railroad (now the Southern Pacific Company) operated its first train in California from Sacramento East to Newcastle (31 miles) in June 1864. On May l0th, 1869, the "Last Spike" was driven, thereby connecting the Central Pacific and the Union Pacific. San Francisco was then connected by rail to all Eastern Points. There was an extra boom in freight during the building of the Central Pacific Railroad as all the railroad iron and much of the other material went to Sacramento by river.
The Sacramento River
My first job in California was cook of the Schooner "Emma Adelia" of which Captain Andrew Nelson was captain and owner. My work was not cooking alone but also tending the jib sheet and working cargo. During the summer we ran in the fruit trade.
The passengers who got on board well up river had a whole day’s entertainment plus looking for a cool spot, for a summer day on the Sacramento is "heap hot." Rio Vista was usually the last landing and the boys would turn in for about five hours, to be called when Angel Island was reached, for we must have coffee before beginning to discharge. This would be perhaps three or four o’clock in the morning, and if it happened to be low water with the corresponding steep gangway plank, it was a tough job. At about 11:30 AM we would leave the city again for the next trip. So it will be seen that the life of a deckhand on the river in those days was a bit strenuous.
My clerking job allowed me considerable time to spend in the pilothouse, and with my general boating experience, I was an apt scholar at piloting and soon passed for a pilot’s license, which I held for one year. I then went up for Master’s papers, with the result that I received my license as Master and Pilot for San Francisco Bay and its tributaries in 1873. I might here add, I am happy to say that I used it continuously for forty years without its being rescinded.
The Alviso Run
The "Alviso Run," when it was founded, bade fair to be important, and had the engineering of today been applied then, it would have been. The town itself has an interesting history. In 1777 the Franciscan Friars founded there Mission Santa Clara de Asis, but floods came too often in those first months and after two years the Mission moved to Santa Clara leaving only the memory behind. Some sixty years later, Ignacio Alviso who had come to California with the Anza Expedition was granted several hundred acres there and the town was named "Alviso."
A boom in the ‘50’s was intended to make Alviso the seaport of San Jose with a canal up the Guadalupe Creek, but Steamboat Slough with its greater depth took the trade away until by a canal connecting Guadalupe Creek with Steamboat Slough it was recaptured. Development of flour mills on the Guadalupe River operated by water-power followed, and in their prime were the finest in California it was claimed.
Now the South Bay is the roughest part of San Francisco Bay. The reason for this is that our strong summer winds have a straight shoot for over twenty miles of channel. This means rough water when the tide is running in the opposite direction. Often when blowing hard ahead, I would close one of the forward pilot-house windows thereby allowing just enough space at the top to hold my guitar, and after securing it there, would let the wind do the rest. I would then listen to the weird sounds resembling that of an Aeolian harp.
California Transportation Company
In May 1875, the California Transportation Company was organized. I left the Alviso Run in 1876 to take charge of the Company Steamer "Constance." Navigation was pretty bad in the fall of the year for the reason that there was much burning of peat land, which caused dense smoke. This would mix with fog and shut out everything. I remember landing a farmer one night on Staten Island who had a mile to go to reach his home, and he told me later that he wandered lost for four hours.
One day on my return from Alameda Point, when about five minutes out, the main-line train conductor rushed up to the Pilot- house in a blue funk. He had come over with us a boat ahead of his passengers and had fallen asleep in the cabin and failed to go on shore. I said to him, "Don’t get excited, Tom; I’ll take a chance if you will." So in meeting the "Bay City" near Goat Island with Tommie’s passengers on board, I blew the whistle for her to stop; then stopped my boat, lowered a boat and sent Tommie off to join his passengers. The first man he met in going over the rail was Mr. Davis (President of the Line), who said to him, "Where the hell have you been, a fishin’?" I was happy to know later that was all the investigation held.
Pilothouse
I was still plodding along as a Ferryboat Captain, an occupation which to many might seem a very monotonous one. But each trip is different and responsibility ever to the fore. What you are looking for, doesn’t happen-it is the other way about. One rule of the company I must plead guilty of having broken, and that is having guests in the pilothouse. Many of the old Oakland and Alameda commuters can testify to that. Nevertheless my mind was always on my job.
Jumpers
For a long time the same Mr. Scott would say when we picked up a "jumper," "We haven’t drowned anybody yet, Cap." But one day a chap jumped forward of the wheel and the wheel didn’t miss him. He was finished when we picked him up. Another day, about half way across, I was walking the pilothouse floor when I saw a passenger step over the chain at the bow and jump straight ahead.
Strange to say, he went clear the length of the boat and bobbed up astern. Four minutes from the time he jumped, he was back on board the steamer-just wet. On another occasion, just coming off watch, I thought I would call on a "jumper" at the Receiving Hospital where we had delivered him the afternoon before. He was a German. I asked how he felt when he struck the water. He answered "Not so good, but ven de steamer vent away, I feel so lonesome. Say, Captain, it’s in de paper, yes? I sure vant her to see it." Strange to say I don’t recall ever having a "jumper" in foggy weather. Maybe they considered how awkward it would be for the navigator. However, they were no respecters of a gale of wind.
Tides
It also may seem strange to say that the tides at the ferry landing at San Francisco (and in fact on the city front generally) are not so strong as in former years. The reason is, that the by-passes on the Sacramento River-such as the cut from Rio Vista to the lower end of Horseshoe Bend-do not allow the winter water to accumulate in the Delta regions. All the water from the river-floods goes through Raccoon Straits or around Angel Island Point out the Golden Gate to the sea. As the young flood tide "makes," the river water presses it out to the city shore, and as the flood strengthens, it forces the river water toward the city, then in time-for a short while-the flood joins forces with the river water and this is called the bore. I have seen a ship at anchor in the stream in absolutely slack water when the bore struck her. She would quickly swing to head it and one could hear the anchor chain surge-the tide came with such a rush.
Earthquake and Fire
The great earthquake and fire of 1906 has oft been chronicled, yet it has a place here for we were "among those present." When the shake came at 5:18 AM, I was at home in bed. The family immediately assembled in Mother’s room and I recall Marion saying, "Never mind, we are all together." I started to leave the group to save some wobbling bric-a-brac but, "No Dad, stay right here," came in a chorus. I went back to bed, as I was facing a hard run for the following night, but my family soon rousted me out, for smaller shakes were occurring, and "you never know." I got up and fully dressed, walked to the top of the hill in Alta Plaza (a block away) and surveyed the city. From that point I counted ten different fires in the down-town district. I hurried home and advised, "Go down Fillmore Street and buy all the grub you can get."
As I was due to go on watch, I started to walk it by way of Pacific Avenue to the Water Front. I arrived at Van Ness Avenue just as General Funston and his men were passing on their way down-town to install martial law. I remember distinctly the impression of safety the scene gave me. When I got to the City Front the fire had nearly reached the wharves and in places I had to run with my coat up to my face as protection from the heat. I arrived at the boat and relieved Captain Bradley, just as an order came to go with the boat as near as possible to St. Mary’s Hospital to receive and move the patients. The hospital was situated on the top of Rincon Hill. After going to the nearest dock and waiting an hour, I received an order to return to our slip, other arrangements having been made for these patients. My relief, Captain Bradley, lived in Alameda. Therefore his home was not affected. So he said to me, "Jack, you better go home; I’ll look out for things." I did not need a second invitation.
We didn’t leave the house until the second day later, when we all went over to our friends in Alameda, taking with us Auntie Nelson, who had by now been burned out. We went over from the foot of Baker Street in a launch. As we passed the City Front going south, the whole of the North Beach District and Telegraph Hill was aflame and fire tugs were working hard to save a group of oil tanks. The quiet of the homes and flowers of Alameda was very striking to the refugees.
During the first few days of the fire no one was allowed into the city without a pass. There was therefore very little ferry travel. All saloons were closed in San Francisco. As soon as ferry service was established, Oakland saloon business began to pick up. During this time, at San Francisco, there were two policemen stationed at each side of the landing bridge, and if among the passengers coming ashore, there were any visibly "under the influence," they would be rushed back on board and not allowed to land. It was funny to see "a drunk" try to straighten up when he saw "the Cop."
Ferry navigation at night was handicapped for a long while after the fire. The downtown district being in total darkness made it necessary to stick closely to the compass course and not chase the will-o-the-wisp. On my way to and from the boat from home, I would usually walk straight out Pacific. As there was not a house standing east of Van Ness, one never knew what street one was passing. By the time the downtown merchants established make-shift places of business on Van Ness Avenue and street grades were reestablished, I recall riding on the Sutter Street line with its new track a foot or two above the then street grade from Van Ness to Kearny, going at the rate of forty miles "per" with no stops or cross traffic, not a building all the way.
Collision
When the tule, or land, fog shuts out Goat Island in the middle afternoon, it is usually good for at least twenty-four hours, and very dense at that. Such was the condition on Sunday, December sixth, 1908. Just before leaving the slip, I got word that the "Oakland" was coming as an extra boat, with a load of automobiles. I blew a long whistle on leaving the slip. I then heard the "Oakland’s" whistle and remarked to my first officer, "He’s so far south, he won’t bother us." I had just about gotten well under way, when I heard his whistle pulling up to our track, and I stopped my boat immediately. I backed her, signaling accordingly, but about the time I got "the way" off her, I saw the loom of his lights. A few seconds after, he struck us just forward of the port paddle-wheel at such an angle that he wrecked the whole wheel and went into the hull above the water-line. I rushed below and running through the crowd with both arms up, shouted, "It’s all over. No danger. We are on shoal water anyway." There was great excitement and confusion, and pulling out of life preservers from the racks. But I must add that a determined voice with authority behind it had its effect. I was on my way to investigate and see if there was any water in her. I went down into the fireroom and could see the "Oakland’s" lights through our side-all above the water-line however. The other boat was so jammed into us that I had to get the passengers over to list her over so be could back out.
When we cleared, I started to limp over to the city. It was distressing to hear the effect of the broken wheel slamming against the paddle-box at every revolution. Just before entering the slip, I got word that the "souvenir hunters" were selecting life preservers. I stopped the boat at the mouth of the slip and arrived at the main deck by way of the boat davits, and addressing the crowd, saying, "When you people drop those life preservers, I’ll land this boat!" After a few kicks, laughs and "You are all right, Cap," I motioned to the mate to "come ahead" and the passengers were landed minus souvenirs.
I then went over to the ship-yard at Oakland Creek for repairs. The damage to the "Oakland" was merely the two broken jack staffs, rails, and bow rudder, but there was much broken glass from automobile headlights when the impact came. The usual investigation by the United States Local Inspectors and also by the Company was held. I was exonerated from all blame by both. This incident stands out forcibly in my mind as in all the years of my command, no other vessel ever collided with me, nor I with another.
Retirement
I have taken a steamboat more than one hundred and twenty-five thousand round trips across the Bay, and at various times have captained the ferry steamers "Newark," "Bay City," "Garden City," "Encinal," "Oakland," "Piedmont," "El Capitan," "Alameda," "Sausalito." I have now reached the swan-song of my career as a "Ferry Boat Captain."
It is the last day of May 1914. As I go on duty this Sunday morning, I have a feeling that it is to be a tame windup, for the regular commuters will be missing. At any rate the "Newark" is an old friend, and I am a bit sentimental, as the fact comes to mind that at my first and my last trips as captain, I am in command of what I considered the finest ferryboat on the bay. Five P.M. and my last trip from the City, and nothing unusual to indicate it.
Half an hour later I left Oakland Pier homeward bound, starting the boat as usual from the shore end. As I walked the hurricane deck toward the other pilothouse, the fog-bell on the end of the pier began to ring, the company’s fire tug steamer "Ajax" lying at Outer Wharf commenced blowing her whistle, and on entering the pilothouse, I was greeted by my friends Allan Pollok, Judge Melvin, my brother Bill and my worthy successor Captain John Carson. After a hand-shake all round, we were meeting the "Piedmont" with her flags flying and whistle blowing and crew lined up on the hurricane deck. As we met the other boats in crossing, each saluted with her whistle. The result was that we were busy answering three blasts all the way over. I took the helm and made the landing with a quiet resolve not to break a pile. After I "rang her off," I went down on deck where a delegation of company employees and other friends who had come on board were awaiting me to offer congratulations and a hand-shake. The time now went so quickly that I had not gotten out of my uniform when it was time for the boat to leave with her new captain.
