Pescadero Memories

By June Morrall

As Mary Antoinette’s health began to fail, she worried about the future of her son Wally. Who would care for him should something happen to her? If you’ve forgotten, Mary Antoinette was Loren Coburn’s wife. She had a younger sister, Sarah, who promised her Mary she would care for Wally. There would be nothing to worry about.

Wally was, as they say today, “mentally challenged.” But back in the early 20th century, he was thought to be mentally retarded, and no matter how many birthdays he celebrated on his way to becoming a man, outsiders always referred to him as “the boy.”

Many years later, Loren said he was a caring father who took his son to doctor after doctor for consultations and cures. They gave him no hope for Wally’s recovery. Loren swore that he loved Wally so much he would have given up most of his wealth in return for a mentally healthy son. Although he could have boarded his son in a first class institution, he decided against the option, explaining: “There is only one place for him [Wally] and that is home. He is my son and he shall stay here and have everything he wants so long as he lives.”

The personal tragedy tested Loren’s already famous testy disposition. He became embittered, lashing out at others, gaining nothing but the hatred of many in Pescadero. He didn’t win friends by refusing to pay a special tax for a new schoolhouse in the village. To avoid the tax, he filed an official protest, winning on a technicality.

In the 1870s the Coburns left San Francisco and moved onto their ranch near Pigeon Point. They could have remained in the City, explained Loren, but “Wally would be the object of public gaze in San Francisco or San Jose. Wally is happy and content where he is. If we stayed in San Francisco, people wouldn’t understand it like the people in Pescadero, and he wouldn’t be happy.”

In Pescadero the Coburn’s hired a Chinese servant called “Ah Gee,” to watch Wally. One of Ah Gee’s duties was to feed poor Wally, who was no longer a child, at the dinner table.

“Ah Gee is kind to Wally,” said Sarah. “When Wally goes to take a nap, Gee will go and look at him, put his fingers on his temples, feel his pulse, and feel his heart, and see that everything is alright.”

Many years later, in 1909, at a court hearing, Sarah said that Wally has the freedom of the house and is not confined in any way.” By this time Loren’s wife, Mary Antoinette had passed away, and Loren married her sister, Sarah. They also had moved from the Pigeon Point ranch to a house in the village of Pescadero.

Wally “eats at the table with members of the family,” Sarah added in 1909. “He didn’t go for rides in a carriage; he is better off in a room.”

As you can imagine, from the descriptions of Wally that I have given, he was far from “normal” and because of that he actually frightened people. To be blunt, poor Wally gave people the creeps.

But back in the 1870s the Coburns were living near Pigeon Point. This gave Loren the opportunity to keep a close watch over activities at the profitable landing–remember he had leased the wharf for ten years to a small group of businessmen who began improving the property in 1862. Now it was 1872 and the lease was set to expire.

And now rumor had it that suspicious things were going on at Pigeon Point.

Who were the businessmen running the wharf? Judge Horace Templeton, Josiah P. Ames and Charles Goodall, all former San Mateo County officials. Judge Templeton also had invested in the Yazor and Gazos Mills as well as the Pacific Lumber Company. Josiah Ames was a former county supervisor who built Amesport Landing north of Half Moon Bay.  Some described Ames, a pipe-smoker, as a “bold, bad man,” who was reportedly later named in a 1883 corruption case.

According to attorney Crittenden Thornton, who had known Loren Coburn since 1860, “Pigeon Point attracted the attention of an unscrupulous ring of speculators, composed of officials and ex-officials of San Mateo County. They determined to get hold of the property by hook or by crook and to use it for their own purposes.

Loren Coburn did not want to renew the lease and when it expired, Templeton, Ames and Goodall refused to give up the wharf. Using their political connections, the men petitioned the Board of Supervisors for a wharf franchise, asking for permission to use the landing for two more decades.

….more coming…

From the “Half Moon Bay Review,” 1957

“The county board of supervisors in a resolution will seek more State action in developing and maintaining South Coastside beaches.

“Supervisor Tom Callan pointed out that because the state beaches have been taken off the tax rolls, they are just ’sitting there’. Alvin S. Hatch objected because the county has been forced to patrol and maintain beaches turned over to the state.

“The protest centers on, mainly, two rest rooms at the San Gregorio and Bean Hollow beaches, which were turned over by the county to the state. Although the beaches are crowded on weekends, the county manager said the rest rooms are locked because the state has not installed water tanks and lines, which would cost $4100. Stallings said the state appears to be concentrating on acquiring new areas and is lagging on the maintenance and protection programs.

“Stallings also said negotiations for the purchase of Butano forest for a state park is also lagging. More than a year has passed since money was appropriated for the purchase, he said, but so far the state has acquired only 400 acres by purchased and a small additional area by patent from the federal government.

“However Stallings plans to confer this week with state officials on the problem.”

In 1866, Loren Coburn, now a rich man, his wife, Mary Antoinette, and son, Wally, took a long postponed vacation back home to the East Coast, to visit Vermont and Massachusetts.

We don’t know where they roomed, or the specific purpose of the visit, but they liked it enough to stay for two years. Of course they met with their relatives, including Loren’s brother, Lemmuel, a successful entrepreneur who lived in Holyoke, Massachusetts. During the visit, the Coburns met Lemmuel’s son, Arzo, who was Wally’s age.

The long vacation over, the Coburns returned to California, and Loren went on a land buying spree, picking up 10,000 acres of the San Lorenzo Rancho near King City in Monterey County. He bought 1500 acres in Merced County and building lots in Fresno.

The property in Monterey County stood near the iron rails of the Southern Pacific; Loren lobbied the company for a station to be built there, and assuming a town would grow up around the depot, suggested it be called Coburn. He was turned down but not discouraged.

Although Loren didn’t own land in the village of Pescadero, he did own everything surrounding it, including beloved Pebble Beach, he said, as well as busy Pigeon Point, site of the only nearby shipping outlet.

Believing that one day soon a railroad would appear on the Coastside, he became convinced that the best place for a station would be at the tourist attraction known as Pebble Beach. And this time he would convince the railroad owners to build the station and call it “Coburnville.”

…more coming…

Story & photos by John Vonderlin
Please email John (benloudman@sbcglobal.net)

I enjoyed your Tsunami Ranger story. The video was a nice touch. Glad you enjoyed yourselves there. I would have liked to have attended, but…. so many miles and so little free time. I was able to go to the Maker-Faire for a few hours though, at the San Mateo County Fairgrounds.

So were about 25 thousand other people. It was a very interesting mix of people, especially the exhibitors. From Burning Man type artists/inventors/exhibitionists to Crafters, Geeks and Gyro Gearloose wannabees. Tim the Toolman types hawking computer controlled mills and lathes and R2-D2 rolling around emitting an impressively irritating set of squeals. Motorized Muffins were competing with a mobile, talking Electric Giraffe, and a pedal-powered trolley car for room-to-move-through in the dense, but placid crowd. I’ll attach a few pictures from it. Their website is Makerfaire.com. They’ll be back next year I’m sure.

Also, very cool, check out this “related” site called the steam punk workshop; to visit, click here

The New York Times online has a great article with photos.

A few months ago I talked with Orril Fluharty by phone. You wouldn’t think that a hard line would cut out like a mobile phone but it did. Despite the bad connection, we had a good conversation.

Story coming soon.

By June Morrall

In the 1870s, the “burg” was booming. That’s what some folks called Pescadero, “the burg. It was hopeful talk of a railroad linking Pescadero with San Francisco that led to all the building. Why was this so important at that moment in time?

If you read Angelo Mithos’s enlightening post below (”What You Didn’t Know About the Ocean Shore & The Butano), you’ll see that the city of San Francisco, post Gold Rush, was developing rapidly and hungry for wood to quickly build more houses. “The Butano’ forest, thick with redwood trees, was so close, yet so far because there weren’t any good roads.* Talk of building an iron road along the Coastside raised many new possibilities.

The people behind the new railroad held community meetings in Pescadero to discuss the project, but they were in town mainly to raise the funds to build it. Meanwhile the locals got to work, drawing up plans for new buildings.

The two-story, $31,000 McCormick building was under construction, said to be a big “attraction on the road.” On the first floor there was a warehouse; on the second floor a public hall with a suspended platform where musicians performed.

On San Gregorio Street (Stage Rd) there were two blacksmith shops; Goulson repaired wagons and Koster specialized in shoeing. There was a market, a harness shop, barber, two livery stables, an express, telegraph and post office.

There were three saloons in the village with a population of 300. Teetotalers were free to join the Temperance Society headquartered in the Methodist Church.

In 1874 instead of being a town built on two sides of a creek as it had been, Pescadero now presented a four-cornered front.

That year Library Association members celebrated their 8th anniversary, proclaiming that theirs was the oldest library on the entire Coastside. [Remember, there was always a humorous rivalry with Spanishtown [Half Moon Bay], the bossy town to the north.]

Education remained high on the list of priorities with a brand new two-story, four-room schoolhouse ready to go from the drafting table to reality. There was also a private school, with a waiting list, operated by a Mrs. Hollingsead.

Six miles east of the village, shingle mills, destroyed by a series of destructive fires, were being rebuilt.

Robert Doherty, “the prince of landlords,” pulled his money out of Purisima where he owned a hotel, and moved a few miles south to Pescadero looking for another financial opportunity. There was a place called the Lincoln Hotel up for sale. Doherty, and his wife, “the queen of cuisine,” bought it for $6000, redecorated, and renamed it the Pescadero House, going into fierce competition with Charles and Sarah of the immensely popular Swanton House.

But there was yet more competition–the Sulphur Springs Hotel, owned by San Francisco businessmen, stood a couple of miles east of the town’s famous flag pole on the site of a medicinal spring. The Pescadero and Swanton House and the Sulphur Springs Hotel awaited the steady flow of guests they felt certain would come if the railroad was built.

Green grass covered the hills and fields of potatoes surrounded the busy village. There were rumors that big landowner Loren Coburn was going to build a boom at the mouth of Pescadero Creek to catch the stray logs from the nearby redwood forests. You couldn’t live in Pescadero without hearing Coburn’s name. A man named Wilson rented 1600 acres from Loren. The 1700-acre Cloverdale Dairy, where 100 cows were milked for cheese and butter, was also rented from Coburn.

Up until this time few people had ever actually seen Loren Coburn.

—————-

*There were many other “wood” forests much closer than The Butano. I am referring to the forests just south of Half Moon Bay, where in the 1870s, sawmills had been set up. The fast-growing city of San Francisco also needed fresh produce from the Coastside, including the popular potato, a basic food.

(Photo: Sent to me by someone who thought this might be Pigeon Point. I’m not sure, are you? Please email me.)

By June Morrall

In th 1870s when Colonel S. Evans, author of “A La California” rode horseback into the remote village of Pescadero, he saw a village optimistic about the future.

Behind all that confidence was the lighthouse recently built at Pigeon Point by the U.S. government. The light had been illuminated for the first time on November 15, 1872.

That “slim finger” against the sky became a source of pride for the Pescaderans. Charles Swanton regularly escorted hotel guests on scenic tours into the lighthouse where Captain J.W. Patterson*, “an old salt,” was in charge.

A steam whistle had also been installed and during foggy weather the whistle sounded at intervals, with the blasts lasting four seconds.**

[Approximately $95,000 was appropriated for the Pigeon Point Lighthouse: $83,000 for the lighthouse and other buildings, $12,000 for the keeper's residence.]

Soon a very small community surrounded the lighthouse: a store, school, post office***, and the blacksmith was building a new house. One of the Steeles was appointed postmaster.

Today it’s so serene at the lighthouse that it’s hard to imagine a bustling community there. But behind the lighthouse stood Pigeon Point Landing–a new wharf and chute, estimated to cost between $12 and $30,000. The men who financed the ambitious project rented the land from Loren Coburn. At the time Coburn was still residing with his family in San Francisco.

The investors modernized the previous primitive cable-rock arrangement, extending the wharf 100-feet into the ocean, dramatically improving the business of shipping. For the first time a vessel could land alongside the wharf, reducing loading time from four to six hours, instead of a couple of days. The “Arcata,” a three-masted schooner, one of the largest ships to stop there, once stayed for more than a week.

To further expedite the the shipping of local lumber and produce, the investors planned to build a “canal” and a six-mile long, three-foot gauge railroad track from Gazos Creek to Pigeon Point Landing. Those familiar with the old cable-rock arrangement, wondered why Loren Coburn hadn’t upgraded the wharf himself.

——–

*Captain J.W. Patterson was the commander of the shipwrecked “Shubrick.” He lived in a two-story white wood dwelling with a red roof. Capt. Patterson told visitors he came to the coast in 1823 aboard the “Mentor,” then sailed to Alaska where he traded furs with the Indians. In 1833 he sailed back to California. Sometime in the late 1870s Patterson was abruptly replaced by a new lighthouse keeper, Capt. Fairchild. “…it seems hard that a gray headed old man who has spent his life in going down in ships and is unprovided for should be removed from a small office to subserve no other ends than those of politics.” [no attribution.]

**In 1872 he Pigeon Point Lighthouse was officially inspected by the government “lampist,” Thomas Winship. There was also a steam fog whistle at Ano Nuevo Island, south of Pigeon Point. It sounded blasts of 15 secodns at intervals of 45-seconds. There was concern that the Ano Nuevo fog signal would be confused with the fog signal at Pigeon Point.

***Before the post office was built at Pigeon Point, folks who lived there rode horseback, six miles north to Pescadero to pick up the mail.

John Vonderlin Finds The Usual Suspects at Neptune’s Vomitorium

Story & Photos by John Vonderlin

Email John (benloudman@sbcglobal.net)

Hi June,

With Neptune’s Vomitorium becoming active once again, after a six month quiescence, I’ve been making twice weekly trips to Invisible Beach to gather its bounty.

I was rewarded this past week, when, instead of continuing its decline in quantity and quality from its first appearance a few weeks ago, a Superwrack was coughed up. Included in the nearly hundred pounds of wet, stinky mass of marine debris I gathered were more then three hundred fishing line balls and a wide array of socks, tie wraps, goggles, golf balls, fishing gear and many more of the other “usual suspects.”

My previous record for collecting fishing line balls at one time was barely half that. Whether I can find the time to tie all of them, along with the several thousand others I’ve got stored, to the World’s Largest Fishing Line Ball, remains to be seen.

In a follow-up visit yesterday, I found what I call a “smoking gun,” or in this case a flapping flag. I’m referring to my golf ball remnant collection’s source. In my previous stories about Invisible Beach and its unnatural oddity, Neptune’s Vomitorium, I detailed my tracing the origin of the golf balls and remnants I was finding there, back to the Ritz Carlton, particularly the 18th hole of “The Old Course.” I think these pictures offer strong evidence that I was right.

The next time I’m up that way, I’ll drop in and find out where the flag was before it began “The Silent Procession from the Sunken Cathedral to Neptune’s Vomitorium.” Enjoy. John

That’s what it says on the back side of this photo

Hello June.

Some of your readers interested in the Ocean Shore R.R. may not know that efforts to resurrect it began almost as soon as it was abandoned. Jack Wagner’s THE LAST WHISTLE is the best reference.

I recall several San Francisco newspaper articles during the 1930s; and as a teenager I got up the nerve to go to the company’s office in downtown S.F. to inquire of its progress, and met the President, George Middleton. The office was shared with a mining company–either Alaska-Juneau Gold Mining or Bunker Hill. I can’t remember and don’t know of any relationship with the new OSRR. Mr. Middleton said the line would re-enter San Francisco by the old, seldom-used Southern Pacific’s Ocean View line. That track was now in the heavily built-up Mission District where people in homes could practically shake hands with the engine crew if a train ever went by. I remember being skeptical that the City would permit it.

Apropos of that time, I have a copy of the December, 1935, issue of “Railroad Stories” magazine and the article “The Ocean Shore Comes Back” by G. H. Kneiss, which told of the expected rebuilding mainly to exploit the timber resources of the Butano Forest

close to the original route, but never reached. There are a number of court cases involving the OSRR from that time on the Internet, mainly dealing with the railroad’s suits for incursions on its former right-of-way, some becoming precedents for other cases.

One of the more interesting is a 1941 appeal re an earlier decision about the injury from falling rocks in June, 1936, to a power shovel operator engaged by the railroad to clear the blocked north portal of the Pedro Point tunnel. A few months earlier the shovel had been “almost completely buried” by a slide at the south portal. I find it almost incredible how the shovel made it to the south portal. This was before Hwy. 1 had been re-routed closer to the coast, and so the shovel had to have taken the long route past Green Canyon and over Devil’s Slide on a roadbed neglected for over fifteen years. What problems the operator encountered can only be imagined. Mr. Wagner’s book chronicled how all these efforts came to naught.

Regards to John Vonderlin. Angelo