The Bay Before Bridges

An uncle and his family lived across The Bay in Berkeley. When my sister and I were in the primary grades, New Year's was not a big deal at home; but Uncle Ath and Aunt Alice were celebrators. We could expect to be regaled with lively stories, and our three cousins always made the visits fun. We looked forward to them.


But, for me, the highlight wasn't our uncle and his family: it was the Ferry Building. Until the bridges were completed in 1939, the distance from San Francisco to Oakland was a miserable trip through San Mateo, across a bumpy two lane causeway to Hayward and back north -- or an eleven mile leisurely ride on a ferry. No contest.

We boarded a trolley at our home near the beach, rode clear across town through a tunnel, past the federal mint and the cable car terminals, made the loop at the Embarcadero in front of the Ferry Building, and my day was made. I didn't really care if we boarded a ferry.

Oh, the ferries were continuing delights. Gulls always trailed along for bread (or candy wrappers and cigarette butts; they weren’t too particular). I knew that crossing the Bay there would be Goat Island, now Treasure Island, since the World’s Fair, and subsequently turned into a Naval base. I tried always to be toward the front as the slips gradually took shape. I’d usually guess as which slip would be ours.


I liked to watch the passengers begin to crowd at the bow to dash off when the big metal ramp wheeled down, as if they might not find a seat in the waiting big red trains. I would wonder if their weight might tilt the ship forward and soak their feet. And I’d guess which pilings, port or starboard, the ferry would bump first.

Ferry Building 1898 - 1938

But my real goal was to sprint up to the second level of the Ferry Building to study "The Map," to move slowly along the sides of the thirty foot three dimensional full color map of California as it rested on a table I now guess to have been desk high. I would imagine myself in a Curtis Wright WWI single seat plane scooting barely above the ground from the Ferry Building, over San Jose, past Salinas, eastward to King’s Canyon, north from Mt. Whitney to Mt. Shasta, and back over the redwood forests. Usually, I switched, mid-air into a sea plane to alight amid the sailboats in the marina at the foot of Van Ness.


Of course, more often than not, my journey was curtailed by a parental call to get on the ferry before it left me. I wanted to test their threats; but I never quite did.


I was disappointed when our family didn't go at Christmas to my uncle's place .I wouldn't have time with the map that season. The map never dimmed. I suspect because of it I've walked every part, border-to-border and Coast to Nevada. If I had not been entranced by the map, what I might have missed!

Modern Ferry with Golden Gate Bridge