Most of you probably don’t know this, but there was a time when the Golden Gate Bridge didn’t exist. No, really. So now you’re probably asking, “Well, if that were true, Mr. Smartypants, how did all those people get to San Francisco?” Ferries, mostly, beginning in 1820. The Sausalito Land and Ferry Company, launched in 1867, eventually morphed into the Golden Gate Ferry Company, a subsidiary of the Southern Pacific Railroad, becoming the world’s largest ferry operation by the late 1920s. Originally for railroad passengers only, Southern Pacific’s automobile ferries were extremely profitable, even at the meager cost of one dollar for a 20 minute trip from Sausalito to San Francisco’s Hyde Street Pier or a 27 minute excursion to the Ferry Building. So if you ever wonder why somebody might not want a nice bridge built near their turf, think of the Golden Gate Ferry Company.
They weren’t the only ones. The bridge faced opposition and litigation from many sources. The Department of War, always looking for bugbears in the woodwork, was concerned that the bridge might interfere with ship traffic. the Navy feared that a ship collision or sabotage to the bridge could block the entrance to one of its main harbors. Labor unions wouldn’t approve unless guaranteed that local workers would be favored for construction jobs. Most everybody else figured you couldn’t build it anyway, what with the strong tides, frequent storms and heavy fogs indigenous to the area. Thus the concept of a bridge across the nearly mile-wide Golden Gate Strait, first broached in 1872, was not seriously considered until 1920 when public opinion in San Francisco began to favor the undertaking.
In 1921, Cincinnati-born engineer Joseph Strauss submitted a preliminary proposal: a combination suspension-cantilever bridge that could be built for 27 million dollars. The original design was less than aesthetically pleasing but gradually evolved into a simple suspension bridge with the help of architect Irving Morrow, who, with his wife, Gertrude, developed the elegant Art Deco design.
To finance the bridge, the counties of San Francisco, Marin, Sonoma, Del Monte and parts of Mendocino and Napa formed the Golden Gate Bridge and Highway District. The counties agreed to collectively take out a large bond to finance the operation, then be paid back through bridge tolls. Construction began on January 5, 1933, at the height of the Great Depression, and the bridge opened on May 27, 1937. Eleven men died in the process. Nineteen others were saved by a safety net suspended under the floor of the bridge from end to end. These became full-fledged members of the “Halfway To Hell Club.” The Golden Gate Bridge is 4200 feet long and contains 600,000 rivets in each tower. The steel for the bridge was made by Bethlehem Steel in Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Maryland, loaded in sections into rail cars in Philadelphia and shipped through the Panama Canal to San Francisco.
For years, this engineering icon has fascinated millions, which unfortunately include contemplators of suicide. Last year, 46 people took a swan dive over the rail. On July 24th of this year, San Francisco officials voted to approve the last of a $76 million dollar outlay to build a netlike suicide barrier to discourage and/or prevent such inclinations. In the history of the Golden Gate Bridge, almost 1,600 souls have taken the plunge. Seventy six million dollars is a lot of money spent to discourage customers who will only take their business elsewhere—say, to the Oakland-Alameda Bridge or the triangular Transamerica Pyramid, right? Apparently, not so. Recent studies at the University of California conclude that suicide planners, once rebuffed, will not repeat the attempt 90% of the time. And if you’re worried about the ugly appearance of the suicide barrier, forget it. The netting will be invisible to anyone not on the bridge. It’s the least they can do for 76 million dollars.
Day Three—Walking The Bridge
The plan was for Siobhan and I to walk the length of the bridge and then mosey on into Sausalito and catch the ferry back to San Francisco. Funny thing about that. When we got to the other side, we realized the ferry was not the short walk I had presumed but rather a hike of seven miles, up hills on a scary highway. Bill needs to perform better research. We trooped back over the Golden Gate to the other side. It’s a nice walk, about forty minutes if you stop to take pictures. There is a comfortable barrier between automobile traffic and pedestrians. The outer lanes of the bridge allow bicycles on one side and foot-traffic on the other. It was chilly and a little breezy the day that we crossed but stories abound of very cold temperatures and harsh winds and a plethora of hats finding new homes in the ethers. Fumes from the vehicular traffic were not noticeable on the first crossing with the breeze at our backs, a lot more apparent on the return leg. All said, it was an invigorating trip, a rare chance to investigate an icon up close. Likely, we’ll not pass this way again and, if so, at least we shall have no misgivings at having failed to experience a certifiable one and only—the sublime marvel that is San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge.
Golden Gate Park And Sausalito
After the bridge hike, we hopped a bus for nearby Golden Gate Park, once a home to Hippiedom, host of love-ins, be-ins, political rallies and all the attendant foofaraw. You’ll have a tough time finding any hippies there now, even on famous Hippie Hill on the eastern side of the park. We spent most of our time at the San Francisco Botanical Gardens, one of the most diverse gardens in the world, featuring 55 acres of both landscaped gardens and open spaces and showcasing over 8,000 different kinds of plants from around the world in a glorious setting. Inside the area is the delicately beautiful Japanese Tea Garden, the oldest public Japanese garden in the United States. As you enter, you encounter an attractive tea house overlooking a picturesque landscape and an elegant little pond. Small meals are available with your tea. The Japanese garden area is of modest dimensions but every inch of it is fussed over and immaculately maintained, a photographer’s delight. I tried to find Kato but was told—a little brusquely, I might add—that he was over in the Philippino Tea Garden.
From the park, it was off to the ferry at Pier 41 back at Fisherman’s Wharf, and across the bay to charming Sausalito. On the way, like it or not, you pass dusty old Alcatraz. The once dead prison is proving F. Scott Fitzgerald wrong again, enjoying a far more lucrative second act than it’s original. There is an entire San Francisco pier building devoted to Alcatraz ferry tours and the folks are lining up by the hundreds to inspect Burt Lancaster’s old cell. Not to disparage Alcatraz-goers, which include many of our friends, but it wasn’t for us. Maybe it derives from being a product of the Days of Excessive Marijuana Busts and civil rights demonstrations when many friends were clapped in lesser jails, perhaps it’s a product of being in jails myself or maybe it’s just a lack of interest in checking out an island of misery and despair where wretched human beings wasted away their forfeited lives, but, all things considered, I’d rather be in Philadelphia.
Sausalito is a very nice little town, chock full of interesting shops and quality restaurants. It is just about impossible to find somewhere in Sausalito which does not offer a scenic view of the bay and/or San Francisco in the hazy distance. The city is famous for its vast houseboat colony, which used to be even more vast before policing authorities decided to separate the wheat from the chaff, culling a good number of lower-class floaters. Who knew there were even bums with houseboats?
The ferries, which used to transport water to San Francisco in the old days, now transport money to Sausalito. An unending stream of tourists rolls in daily with cash to spend and most of it stays in Sausalito with virtually all of its businesses—at least in the ferry area—owned by local entrepreneurs. The ferries and San Francisco bicycle renters (the main one being the cleverly named Blazing Saddles) have conspired to offer a hugely attractive adventure to customers, with cyclists pedaling over the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito and returning by ferry. This is a little annoying to non-cyclist ferry-goers (like us) who are forced to wait while 150 (the maximum) bikers make their way, bikes in hand, onto the boat while we twiddle our thumbs or participate in the countdown.
We found several interesting shops in town and Siobhan picked up more garments for our already overloaded suitcases. Dinner was at the upscale bayside Barrel House, not a title to charm, a restaurant which featured both inside and outside dining with fabulous views of the surroundings. The food was great, the service was wonderful, the ambiance was spectacular. Three cheers for the Barrel House, which we have renamed The Cylinder of Delights, a more appropriate appellation.
We had left San Francisco at three-fifty, arrived in Sausalito at four-twenty, shopped, dined and were ready to leave on the last ferry at eight o’clock. So were 150 or so cyclists, including those left over from previous trips when the bike limit was reached. There were some antsy pedalers in the group, not looking forward to a return trip by bike in the darking night should they not make the first 150. Apparently, the ferry police take pity on such because they kept piling them in well after the limit was reached. The accumulated bicycles took up almost the whole of the first floor of the ferry with only the periphery spared. Most people started the return trip outside, which is fine when you’re on the Sausalito side of the bay, which tends to be at least ten degrees or more warmer than the San Francisco side. About halfway back, night coming on, many repaired to the inside chambers. Siobhan, of course, was sticking it out. “I won’t ever be back here again so I’m soaking it all in,” she said, which sounds good until the freezing bay winds begin lapping at your face. Nonetheless, she persevered, the better to view the oncoming lights of the City By The Bay, a sight not often equaled, and the perfect end to a rare and perfect day.
Inside The Japanese Tea Garden, SF Botanical Gardens
Outside The Japanese Tea House
The Ferry Arrives For The Trip To Sausalito
Leaving San Francisco
Alcatraz, From The Ferry
Sausalito In The Distance
Inside The Barrel House, Sausalito
San Francisco Through The Haze
Siobhan Awaits The Ferry, Sausalito
Sunset Over Sausalito
That’s still not all, folks….
