Steamboat Travel on San Francisco Bay and Beyond
Entry Author: Stan
Garvey
Paddle Wheels on San Francisco's Waterfront: The gentle splash
of a paddle wheel - the deep tones of a steam whistle - black
smoke billowing from a riverboat's stack. Is this a scene
from Mark Twain's "Life on the Mississippi?"
Or is it a scene from bygone days in San Francisco?
Though cable cars and the Golden Gate Bridge symbolize today's
San Francisco, years ago this city boasted another colorful
phenomenon. Old-time residents still remember a nearly-forgotten
time when they could walk down to the waterfront and catch
an overnight steamer to Sacramento.
 With
a paddle-wheel heritage dating back to the Gold Rush, steamboat
travel between San Francisco and Sacramento reached its zenith
of luxury and comfort when, in 1927, the Delta King
and Delta Queen departed on their maiden voyages from
San Francisco. These vessels were maritime masterpieces of
their day.
Delta Queen 1944
Photo SF National Maritime Museum
On June 1, 1927, the forecast of "fair and mild with
moderate westerly winds" promised seasonal weather, typical
for the city by the Golden Gate. But on the waterfront, it
was not going to be just another typical day. At 6:30 p.m.
that evening, the Delta King - loaded with passengers
anticipating dinner, dancing, and the excitement of the boat's
inaugural cruise - departed San Francisco's Pier 3 and headed
for Sacramento. The next evening, the Delta Queen left
Pier 3 on her maiden voyage.
The California Transportation Company, a highly regarded firm
engaged in the river trade since 1875, had just finished building
these identical paddle-wheel steamboats at Stockton. They
were the finest built anywhere and would be based at company
headquarters in San Francisco. The two boats would cover the
"Delta Route," alternating each night with one leaving
San Francisco, the other departing Sacramento. For the next
13 years, these majestic twin vessels passed each other nightly
on the Sacramento River near Rio Vista, the midpoint between
the two cities.
Although freight produced more revenue for the company than
passengers did, the vessels are best remembered for their
grand style and passenger comforts. For many, the memory is
of friends and family enjoying the cruise and the sights along
the way. For some, the memory is of wild overnight trips that
get wilder with each telling. Former crew members recall the
boats with fondness; one says, "Those were the most exciting
years of my life."
Departing San Francisco, passengers strolling the outer decks
were treated to a world-class view. Out beyond the rolling
wake of the sternwheel lay the Ferry Building, the city's
skyline, Alcatraz Island, and the Golden Gate. Soon Angel
Island, Mt. Tamalpais, Red Rock, and The Brothers came into
view. Other sights might have included a glimpse of a steamship
headed for the Pacific or a bay ferryboat under way, such
as the Eureka on its Sausalito-to- San Francisco run. Occasionally,
a ferry would come so close that passengers could hear its
bells and whistles.
After dark, those walking the decks could observe the new
Carquinez Bridge as the boat passed under. With great fanfare,
this span had opened for traffic just ten days before the
maiden voyages. For the King and Queen, however,
the bridge meant added competition from cars and trucks.
Before retiring for the night, many passengers would enjoy
the sparkling lights of towns along the way - Vallejo, Benicia,
Martinez, Pittsburg, and Antioch. True night owls might stay
up all night to view the opening of five drawbridges upstream:
at Rio Vista, Isleton, Walnut Grove, Courtland, and Freeport.
All these bridges are still in operation. In the morning,
passengers would awaken in their staterooms with the vessel
already docked at the M Street wharf in Sacramento. It was
time for breakfast in the boat's dining room.
A different experience awaited those departing Sacramento.
In the summer, passengers would feel the valley's warm, dry
air - a major shift from the cool marine climate of San Francisco.
Also, instead of whitecaps and distant shores as on the Bay,
those leaving from Sacramento saw smooth, flowing water and
lush riverbank foliage so close it almost seemed to touch
the boat's railing. And, always, there was the unmistakable
scent of the river: dampness, mud, and tules. Often, a car
on the levee road would slow down and, for a moment, hold
its speed to that of the boat. To those on the bank, the large
paddlewheeler steaming down the river with lights ablaze made
an unforgettable sight.
With their distinctive architecture and fine furnishings,
the King and Queen offered a treasure trove
of delights. Coming aboard, passengers immediately noticed
the polished brass and colorful stained-glass panels above
the windows. Just inside the lobby door on each boat, the
grand staircase rose to the deck above. With its ornate bronze
filigree and its large, curving Honduran- mahogany handrails
flaring out into the lobby, the staircase made an elegant
centerpiece. Graceful wicker chairs, Old English oak paneling
with mahogany trim, and gleaming brass chandeliers added to
the ambience.
Aft, beyond the lobby, a spacious dining room displayed fresh
flowers on linen-covered tables. Large windows, port and starboard,
assured passengers a full view of the bay or river when dining.
Near the stern, the social hall featured comfortable overstuffed
leather chairs, a grand piano, and two large curved skylights
of stained glass. Imported tapestries graced the walls.
Aft, beyond the lobby, a spacious dining room displayed fresh
flowers on linen-covered tables. Large windows, port and starboard,
assured passengers a full view of the bay or river when dining.
Near the stern, the social hall featured comfortable overstuffed
leather chairs, a grand piano, and two large curved skylights
of stained glass. Imported tapestries graced the walls.
Passengers had a choice of stateroom size and amenities, with
or without private bath. But all rooms had washbowls with
hot and cold running water. Cabins ranged from $1 to $5; meals
and fare were extra. During the Great Depression, fare dropped
to $1.50 one way and $1.95 round trip.
At dinnertime, passengers chose from a menu that offered a
five-course meal - featuring pork chops, chicken, ham, and
roast beef - for just 75 cents. Filipino stewards in crisp
white jackets waited table. After dinner, tables and chairs
were moved to the side to make room for dancing. On weekends
live bands would play - on week nights, there was recorded
music. Dancers did the two-step, waltz, fox trot, and Charleston.
Despite stories to the contrary, until the end of Prohibition
in December 1933, the King and Queen did not
serve alcoholic beverages. Those who wanted to imbibe brought
their own. The crew would look the other way, perhaps - but
serve it, never. After repeal, the company installed cocktail
bars. Humorist and writer Irvin S. Cobb came aboard, pulled
out a $20 bill, and said, "Drinks for everyone!"
Big-time gamblers may be a colorful image, but the reality
aboard these boats was less daring: gambling consisted only
of slot machines. For several years in the 1930s, the boats
carried machines of the nickel, dime, and two-bit variety.
But eventually they were shut down by state Attorney General
Earl Warren.
The freight deck held diverse cargo, including passengers'
cars. Coming downstream, large shipments on pallets were mainly
agricultural commodities, such as rice and canned peaches.
On the upriver trip, the cargo was mostly manufactured goods.
That these were night boats shaped their lives profoundly.
For passengers, it meant a certain romance and excitement
that only an overnight vessel could bring. For shippers, it
meant cargo dropped at the dock by late afternoon would be
delivered early the next morning. For the river pilot, it
often meant hours of tension in the darkness as he dealt with
tule fog, rain, or high winds. And coming downsteam with a
heavy load of freight, the pilot faced five drawbridges that
had to open in time. Day trips were easier but were offered
only on special occasions.
In spite of the dangers of night travel, the Delta King
and Delta Queen had an exemplary safety record. They
ran every night of the year, regardless of weather and visibility.
In their more than 13 years of commercial service, each made
almost 4,500 voyages on bay and river for a total of nearly
9,000 trips in all. That represents roughly a million miles
of water travel, comparable in distance to four trips to the
moon. They did it all by steam and paddle wheel - without
radar, depth finders, or other sophisticated navigational
aids - and without one serious accident.
In the mid-1930s, passengers and crew departing San Francisco
on the King and Queen witnessed a stunning trio
of engineering projects under way. First, they saw construction
of two of the largest bridges in the world - the Golden Gate
and the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge. Then they viewed
creation of what was billed as the biggest man-made island
on earth, Treasure Island, site for the 1939-40 Golden Gate
International Exposition.
As it turned out, the future of the vessels was closely linked
with all three projects. The new bridges would bring more
highway competition - bad news for the boats. On the other
hand, Treasure Island would mean added revenue from fair-bound
passengers - good news for the boats. The one and only steamboat
race between the King and Queen took place in
1939, the first year of the fair, with the King winning in
a close finish at Treasure Island.
The Decline of Steamboat Travel: The Great Depression caught
the California Transportation Company at a time when it was
already feeling financial stress from increased car and truck
ownership, new bridges, and improved highways.
In an effort to survive these difficult times, in 1932 the
C.T. Co. joined two other firms to form an operating service
called The River Lines. Initially, the new plan helped. But
circumstances worked against the company and its vessels.
Major strikes on the San Francisco waterfront in the mid-1930s,
although not directed at the paddle-wheel boats, nearly finished
their careers. In the fall of 1935, the C.T. Co. declared
bankruptcy, and it was two years before the firm would emerge
from that shadow.
Click here for the continuation
of a story, Part 2.
|
Delta King & Delta Queen Construction, 1924-1927