Fitzgerald Marine Reserve Challenge: Katie: I was the only person at Fitzgerald in the 1970s & what shells I used to collect

June, I just got done reading about Bob Breen at the tidepools, and the hordes and crowds at low tide:

http://www.fitzgeraldreserve.org/conservation.html

I can hardly believe it! I was usually the ONLY person out there around 1972 – 1977, climbing over the rocks at low tide, watching the sun come up over the shining waters, and I would go help Bob with whatever I could many a time since he was the ONLY person hired by Parks & Rec to work the entire stretch of the coastline. I always wished I could have had a job like he did; even all these years past I have remembered the wonderful times I spent at the marine reserve. 

On those days that others would show up saying “there’s nothing out here, what are people talking about?” I would show them how to find life under the sea and most importantly, to return the rocks to their original position so the life growing underneath them would not die. I am so sad to find out that this has not been the case, with so many incredible numbers climbing over the area. My, how times must have changed! I specialized in studying the nudibranchs of the coastside, which are exotic and beautiful beyond belief. No one would ever guess these small animals could have developed and exist hidden in the rocks, yet so close in the sea.

I will have to write to Bob and send him my photos and drawings, since I did them when he was there (or perhaps pass them on the the Friends of Fitzgerald Marine Reserve; how wonderful that this group has been started). Who would have guessed that he would still be there, all these years later? What a treasure that Bob was to the tidepools and to me. He was always so nice and such a well-educated gentleman. There weren’t too many of them back in those days. He treated me so well, and showed me that kindness, conservation and respect for all life forms really did matter.

John Vonderlin: 1905: Let’s Go To HMB (2)

The Occidental Hotel started out to be 3 stories tall, then two stories tall, then gone….The stage driven by Half Moon Bay local Buckskin Bill Rawls stopped here daily on its way to Pescadero.

occihotel1

Story from John Vonderlin

Email John ([email protected])

Hi June,
   Here’s the second excerpt from the
auto trip to Halfmoon Bay in September
1905. Although the railroad did finally
reach Mr.Weinke property, 
his skepticism about the OSR was well-
warranted given the events over the next
decade. I wonder if an epihanous
light bulb went off in his head after this
author’s visit? Did Herr Vinke turn to his
bent and worn helpmeet und say,
“Fraulein, dis otto machine may bring many
beeples here evun if the railroad no is
coomin’.”  How right he would have been.
Enjoy. John
 
   Soon the double-lunged machine was
tearing off the miles again. Houses
came into sight with smoking chim-
neys and every evidence of joyous
tables full of good cheer; then they
disappeared again to the rear.
With each house that came into sight my
heart rose, but when it disappeared
again to the rear and no “Germans,”
my heart sank one dull thump deeper
into the place my stomach
should have been.
  And then–Oh. joy!–we swung
around an unexpected corner, zipped
down a long lane bordered by
cypress trees and–“The Germans,”
said Mr. Ramsdell. He said some-
thing else that sounded better, said
it to a small, whiskered ruddy-faced,
jovially grinning character–of course
“The German”–“Lunch for Five.”
While lunch is preparing we engage
“The German” (one Winkle) in conver-
sation. We tell him that soon he will
have a railroad on his property and
plenty of neighbors and a clubhouse a
mile or so away. To our astonish-
ment  Herr Winkle looks unconvinced;
indeed looks mournfully unconvinced.
   “Vat? Ach. nein!  Dond’t you see
dot tree?”  We saw the tree respect-
fully. “Twendty fife yar beeple
sayd dot railroad was cooming. So I
pought me dis land und I came und I
planted me dose trees. Und no rail-
road effer came. Fife years later day
say again, “Vinkle, dis time we air
cooming. Cooming for sure Vinkle.”
Und I blant trees again–dose there. 
Und no  railroad neffer came.” Und fife
yare later a feller come with papers
and rights of way and dings and he say,
“Dis time we air cooming Vinkle. 
Get ready Vinkle.  We air cooming
sure Vinkle.”  Und I blanted me
again a row of nice shady trees for de
beebles to get cool under. But no rail-
road neffer come. Und Gott in Him-
mel! But vy tell it?  Fife yare later
it vos the same story.  Und now I ain’t
a goin’ to plant me no more trees un-
til I see der engine cooming. No
more fellers are a goin’ to “Vinkle” me
no more.
   And Winkle stubbed mournfully away to
assist his good and faithful helpmeet to
get ready the lunch. Twenty-five years
of patiently waiting for the railroad to
come through!    The fact the roadbed
was even then building was of no matter
to Winkle; he had to see the trains pull
past his hostelry before he would plant
again the shade trees for the “beeples.”
    And as we pulled away in the
midafternoon the last glimpse of the
“Germans” was of Winkle, side by
side the  bent  and worn
little woman who had stood guard
with him these many years against the
day of the railroad, standing with mildly
excited eyes as the giant machine slowly
wheeled away, and the last sound was of
Winkle’s melancholy voice as he shook
his head mournfully, but as one who
fights against an almost overpowering con-
viction. “No, I blant no more trees un-
til I see the engine a coom’n’  over the
hill.” Thus it is with life.! When at last
we can pluck the fruits they are withered 
to the hand!  But, you’d better plant an-
other row Winkle. 
   I hope to see the day the coun-
try Club is established away down at 
Halfmoon Bay for the many good and
substantial reasons which have been
set forth by Mr. Harrison and Mr.
Ramsdell and indorsed (sic) by a dozen
other members of the Olympic Club,
equally prominent, but personally and
selfishly, because if the new club
should be opened up there might be a
bare chance of me being sent down to
do the story and then may be (sic) Max Ro-
senfeld would trot out his four cyl-
inder brute of a strong-hearted machine
and transport me again over those
paths of glory.
 
 
 
 
 

Is (was) Pescadero, La Honda & Points Farther South Just a Redwood Tree planted in our imagination-less minds? Do you understand what I wrote? Not sure I did!

I had some friends visit yesterday. Really nice folks, doers, the kind I admire. They have not live here as long as I have but I was amused by one comment:

“We hope to move to Pescadero.”

Currently, they live in another beautiful part of the more developed Coastside.

What amused me?

How many of you, who have lived here as long as I, and there are lots of you out there, said the exact same thing 30–40 years ago?

Longtime neighbor Connie Phipps once angry over the new signal light at Coronado & Highway 1  (has anyone ever looked at Coronado? The actual street? The sign for it is HUGE; you’d expect to find a freeway, when, in reality, Coronado is a tiny street, maybe 3 houses on a mini-block.

Does the County have plans in the works? A parallel road to Hwy 1? What could it be? Or was the man who made sign drunk?

So Connie said to me sotto voce: “We should have moved to Pescadero years ago.”

That has always been the dream: Pescadero…..La Honda…and for us recluses even farther south and into the secret deep canyons.

Things never change. Or, rather, the thoughts don’t change—-but Pescadero and La Honda and venues farther south are nothing like what they were 30-40 years ago. A realtor married to a lady involved in saving animals, says 20 years and Pescadero will be the new suburb. 

Pescadero was once a dream for me and La Honda heaven for Ken Kesey. Now, there is no there now, thank you . To me at this moment, that’s what the writer Gertrude Stein once said famously.

Correction Regarding Mission Hospice

Correction Re: Mission Hospice:

In an earlier post I wrote that I had not heard from the grievance counselor at Mission Hospice. I was wrong. She (Cindy) had called and left a message on my life-partner’s phone. . I rarely, if ever,  check for my messages there. Most people call on my personal line.

I apologize for the error but still wish Cindy had made another attempt.

(On some things I’m “old school,” and if I don’t hear back I look for other ways to reach people. This was important enough to check up on and I am not hard to find.)

T

1919: Good Montara Gossip

From the Half Moon Bay Review

Las Cabritas Ranch will exhibit twenty-seven goats in the Pure Bred Live Stock show in San Francisco from November 1 to 8. We expect to see them return with a lot of prizes.

The Wilson cottage, the Amos cottage, the Dr. Thomas cottage, the Wheeler house, the Maier mansion, the Weyl cottage, have all been rented recebtkt for the Winter months, which allows that the people are beginning to appreciat our Winter climate.

Arthur Wagner, wife and daughter Dorothy and Jean Ross of Jean Ross of Salada Beach. They have many friends here who will welcome them back.Mr. and Mrs. Havice own considerable property here and also stock in the Montara Realty Development Company.

Mr. Wilcox has three of the largest potatoes of the season on exhibition at the post office, one of them weighs two and one half pounds. Who can beat it?

The United States Government is at the present time installing a powerful wireless station at Point Montara Lighthouse station.

Mr. and Mrs. Drew of New York (side note: I met Gretchen Drew in San Francisco and she gave me some of the writer Peter Kyne’s work. Kyne lived in Moss Beach as a young man) have leased the house recently occupied by Rev. Osborn and will remain here permanently.

There is so much property around Montara that is improved that can be bought at such bargains that it will only be a short time until there is a more stable real estate market and the bargains are snapped up.

It is to be hoped that the people will remember that there are services at the church every Sunday morning at 11 a.m. Rev. Mr. Osborne, pastor.

Miss Bessie Chase, who is spending a vacation at home, has been busy decorating the interior of their beautiful home. She is quite an artist with the paint brush.

——-

Barry Parr Follows the HMB Bailout (Money)

Story by Barry Parr (Coastsider.com)

AB 650, the bill designed to help the city of Half Moon Bay pay its
Beachwood settlement, has been rewritten to be a loan from the California
Infrastructure and Economic Development Bank instead of a grant from park
bond funds. The bill now also includes a requirement that the city obtain
an independent appraisal of the Beachwood property.

The bill’s sponsor, Assemblyman Jerry Hill, told Coastsider that the
structure of the bailout was still “fluid” and that it could ultimately
include a cash component as part of the $10 million, and that the term or
interest rate of the loan had not been determined. He said that the bill
was restructured as part of the process of getting it out of the Assembly
Local Government committee. However, he declined to characterize the
current version of the bill as a placeholder.

The Olympic Club John Vonderlin told us about

John, I don’t know about an Olympic Club being contemplated for Half Moon Bay. There is the Olympic Club Golf Course (?) on Skyline Blvd in Daly City-Pacifica near the old horse ranch and the Pacific Ocean. Gorgeous spot.

The club, which also has a spectacular yacht club in the Marina, probably is well endowed, but certainly the financial crash hurt it like everyone else.

However, the El Granada Country Club was considered in the 1920s and 30s, and somewhere there may be sketches of the plans. I have some promotional material.

Perhaps the Olympic Club considered moving to the El Granada Highlands. I believe, at one time, some “heavy hitters”  invested in land up there, with faraway views of Pillar Point Harbor. (I’m a flatlander myself.)

Which brings me to the other location of the Olympic Club, the beautiful white pillared  business=looking arty building which I think has lovely amenities like a big pool. I love to swim. 

Next door stands the ivy covered brick (?) Bohemian Club. I know them both, not because I was a member,  but because I worked as a public information officer for the Society to Prevent Blindness, a nonprofit, and from time to time, the board of directors planned  lunch at one or the other. Once or twice a year.  Not bad, eh?

Good paintings on the walls. Old California art.

At the time the Bohemian allowed women in only one part of the building; that may have changed now. I don’t know. I didn’t care even then.I was hungry and I think you could actually tell whether you were getting chicken or fish. (Those of you who have had that weird experience: what is this? fish or chicken? Know what I mean)

(Sidelight: I also hate pumping my own gas. I still haven’t figured out how to hook up the thingy so I can stand back and watch. That means I hold the pump the whole time. Remember the nice young guys who used to do that for free? Long ago.)

The Board of Directors of my non-profit were old time San Franciscans, doctors and bankers and the like.  One guy had the gold watch hanging out of his suit pants pocket. And his voice–from the 19th century.

 At least one board member was a higher-up at Wells Fargo Bank in San Francisco. You may know they have had differences with the US government over taking or not taking the Tarp funds. 

I just want you to know that the Wells Fargo men were very solid and old-fashioned. I’m talking about the older men.  I was so surprised Wells Fargo was treated unfairly during congressional  hearings –arguments over taking or not taking the money. Those guys from Wells were the straightest, most honest, upright men I have ever know. Long live Wells Fargo!

P.S. As I recall—-and please, please, correct me, Wells said they didn’t want the Tarp  money because they had made NO BAD loans (re: real estate). They didn’t need TARP money; it was a burden to them.

I’m not ashamed to reveal that I’m not political (just a way to steal taxpayer’s money, these days, I think)—in fact at some point I will re-  register as an independent, as if that matters. I have been a Democrat, a Republican and a Libertarian but none of these parties seem to reflect my beliefs. All of them have disappointed me.