Thursday Afternoon Trail Run

An automobile carrier (roll-on/roll-off) ship passes Point Benicia in the Carquinez Straight on its way to the AMPORTS dock 25 July 2013.

 

 

The base of an ancient bay tree has become ten or so trunks along the arroyo.

Looking up in a grove of old bay trees

About 500 feet higher than the spot where the picture of the boat was taken, we're looking northwest along the fire trail that locals call "the wall" -- that last quarter mile has most of the elevation gain!

And here we stand at the top of the ridge, looking southeast toward Mount Wanda.  John Muir hiked these very hills more than a hundred years ago!

Once the fastest ship

In local lore, the schooner Forester  (its remains are shown above) was once America's fastest ship.  Fastest ship in the world, some say.  It didn't make the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs, but apparently it made the run from Australia to San Francisco in record time shortly after the turn of the 20th century, using wind power!

Launched in November 1900 from the Hay and Wright Shipyards in Alameda, California (across the bay from San Francisco), the Forester took lumber to the other side of the Pacific Rim and returned with coconut meat (called "copra").  Here is an old newspaper photo (highly contrast-enhanced and edited by me) from time of launch:

Lots of canvas-carrying capacity up on those masts!  Not much freeboard under load!  Here is a picture from the Martinez Historical Society:

That's lumber, stacked to what looks like a dangerous height and weight.  Maybe they just tied it all down and figured the whole thing would still float, even if every void filled with water?

By the early 1920's, what with all that newfangled steampunk paddle-wheel technology and all, the coal-smoke-belching vessels were carrying more cargo, faster than by sail.  That put an end to the full time commercial career of the Forester.

The formerly-fastest Forester did a stint from 1927 to 1931 as part of a floating breakwater during the construction of the Southern Pacific Martinez-Benicia railroad bridge, which was at that time the longest, heaviest double-track rail bridge west of the Mississippi River.

Capt. Otto Daeweritz was the only captain the Forester ever had. Some time after 1931, he had the vessel towed to anchor off Grangers' Wharf at the mouth of Alhambra Creek in northern Contra Costa County between Martinez and Port Costa, along what is now the Martinez Regional Shoreline park area.  Forester served as Capt. Daeweritz' home until his death on board in 1947.

The schooner remained in place.  It burned to the waterline in June 1975 in a fire the local gossip says was a fireworks accident, not deliberate arson.  The picture at top of this post was taken by me on 9 December 2012 during a solstitial new-moon extra-low tide.

The remains of the hull are disappearing gradually, to tide and storm, worms, and vandals.  At casa Crowndot, we usually refer to the Forester as "Martinez' slowest ship."

Rainstorm Morning

The picture is shot of the Weather Underground (I wish they wouldn't use that name) "Wundermap" at 7am 2 December 2012.  The orange streak is the heaviest rain.  We have had just about an inch of rain in the last 24 hours, and it's coming down hard right now. 

Geologist Clarence King, writing in ca. 1880, is quoted in Oaks of California (Pavlik, Muick, Johnson, and Popper, Cachuma Press 1991):

Riding thus in the late summer along the Sierra foothills, one is constantly impressed with the climatic peculiarities of the region.  With us in the East, plant life seems to continue till the first frost; but in the Sierra foot-hills growth and active life culminate in June and early July, and then follow long months of warm stormless autumn wherein the hills grow slowly browner, and the whole air seems to ripen into a fascinating repose -- a rich, dreamy quiet, with distance lost behind pearly hazes, with warm tranquil nights, dewless and silent.  This period is wealthy in yellows and browns, in great overhanging masses of oak, whose olive hue is warmed into umber depth -- those are the conditions of the vegetation.

The same is true of the coastal hills at the same latitude, with the exception of the micro-climates so near the Pacific Ocean that the morning fog cools the day and waters the ground. For the most part there simply is no precipitation from May to October.  The grass looks dead -- this is the real reason, I think (and not the excitement in the second half of the nineteenth century over metal mining), for the enduring nickname of "The Golden State". 

The weather, rainfall and its absence, and water politics are always topics of conversation in California.  For now, talk of raising my water rates due to drought is silent.  Much more of this, and talk of raising my water rates due to damage to our hydrological infrastructure will begin.  Flood watch is in effect for many areas.

Coyote Bush

Coyote Bush is a large part of our Northern California coastal chaparral.  Here are two views of female Coyote Bush in the process of releasing seeds to the winds.  Pictures taken Saturday, 24 November 2012.  Viewing the ongoing unfolding of life in the natural world is a primary reason I love running trails.