Odd, Old News: Northern California in the Seventies

Horse and rider along coast. [Ray Jerome Baker Photo courtesy of HSU Library Humboldt Room Special Collections, Swanlund-Baker Collection]

Odd Old News will again use an article written for historian Susie Baker Fountain’s “Early Days of Humboldt” series in the Blue Lake Advocate. We will share one elderly man’s recollections of travel up the North Coast from Trinidad in the 1870’s when he was twelve years old and there were only horse trails to follow, and sometimes not even that. Risking one’s life taking to the beach and ocean shore was the normal mode of horseback travel for one visiting Trinidad, Big Lagoon, Gold Bluff, and points north.

Again, it must be acknowledged that the words “pioneer” and “settler” have completely different connotations in Euro-American history than they do in Native American history. Our area has a few centuries of Euro-American history pasted over the history of thousands of years of indigenous inhabitation of the North Coast. Cultural bias frames the narrative of events, and the language in common usage within the Euro-American culture and in their papers.

It is somewhat uncommon to see positive descriptions of Native Americans in the press of these times, but one area where they were appreciated is as guides for passage over body of water. Euro-Americans were often dependent upon Native boatsmen for river crossings, and there are numerous instances where Native Americans were the “1st responders” for water rescues.

That said, this week, Odd Old News travels up the coast in the recollections of Herman Gastman, who was over 90 years old when he shared this story that shows his wealth of knowledge about the area. Little biographical information for Mr. Gastman was located, except that he was a contractor in the Arcata area, and was successful enough to own one of those early large cars.

We can all hope that our memories are as intact when we are as old as this week’s elderly story teller.

Early Days of Humboldt
Blue Lake Advocate
November 29, 1956

Pioneer Herman Gastman has contributed an article discussing the early history of Trinidad briefly. He also tells us about a trip up the coast in the early spring of 1877, when he was a boy of twelve. Very few travelers of 1877 are writing today. It is a privilege to be able to go with Mr. Gastman on his hazardous journey.

NORTHERN CALIFORNIA IN THE SEVENTIES
By Herman K. Gastman

In Northwestern California lies a rugged strip of territory having a coast line of one hundred miles and covered with giant redwood trees and forest growth, magnificent in its picturesque shore line and the grandeur of its forest and hills. This section is now traversed by scenic Redwood Highway. The motorist of today while riding comfortably over smooth roads, beholding a marvelous panoramic view of ocean, mountain and forest, little realizes the hardships of the early traveler, over the rough mountain trails and treacherous ocean beaches, swimming bridgeless rivers and often meeting war-mad Indians.

During the ’Seventies, the mail was carried from Trinidad to Crescent City over this route by that intrepid mail rider, Charles V. Savage. Savage, a tall Yankee, was a man who knew no fear, rode the mail for a number of years. He was succeeded by daredevil Dick Hayes who carried the mail on this route and finally retired after many years of service with the advent of the wagon road and ferry. Hayes lost many horses in the surf, always coming out with his life. A great many lives were lost on this route, washed to sea in river and surf. Hayes gained wide renown as the greatest Daredevil of Uncle Sam’s riders. He seemed to have a charmed life, and bore a longer record of service than any other rider on this route.

Trinidad, now only a small town, was a tent city of five thousand souls in 1852. W. T. Olmsted, an honored, influential pioneer of Humboldt, who always walked with a cane and limp after that terrible ordeal with hostile Indians when he was shot and left for dead, related to the writer that upon arrival at Trinidad in the Laura Virginia (the Laura Virginia was the first ship to make regular trips from San Francisco to Trinidad during the Gold Stampede and carried the pioneers to the mines before Humboldt Bay was discovered) in 1852, on his way with the stampede to the newly discovered gold mines on the Salmon River, found a tent city of five thousand people. The mines did not produce enough gold and Olmstead returned after a few months to find that the city had vanished, only a few people remaining. It seemed as if the earth had opened and swallowed the people.

Scene at Trinidad 1879-1884  [crop of photo courtesy of HSU Library Humboldt Room Special Collections, Ericson Collection]

During the ‘Seventies, Trinidad was more of a lumbering than a mining town. Two redwood saw-mills, pigmies compared to present day mills, were in operation. One, Trinidad Mill Company, was owned by the pioneer Hooper family, prominent in the commercial and business life of San Francisco, and was managed by that redoubtable pioneer, Josiah Bell. As Trinidad Bay is protected from the Northerners and most storms except from the south-east, it was considered a fine harbor.This mill company had built a narrow gauge railroad on wooden rails with a motive power of mules trained to dizzy heights. The road was trestled over a ravine fifty feet high and through the first tunnel in California, thence clinging in a precarious manner to the rocks of Trinidad Head to a landing place, where a great crane with a boom one hundred and sixty feet long swung the great sling loads of lumber to the decks of the old-time sail fleet for transportation to San Francisco.The other mill, owned by two pioneers Smith and Dougherty, was also unique in the moving of the product of the Redwood Forests to market. The ship to receive the cargo from Smith and Dougherty mill was anchored just south-east of Prisoners’ Rock, a rock famous as a prison (and thereby hangs a tale). The ship received the cargo from lighters that ran a line from the ship to a chute inshore. The lumber was stored on a rise of rock some seventy feet above the ocean and then from rollers rolled over into a board chute down onto the lighters.A remarkable phenomenon of nature occurs on the rugged rock shore. Just south of Trinidad, a cave with a wide mouth to the sea enters the rocky shores a distance of perhaps eighty feet, having a chimney at the end five feet in diameter. During heavy storms the great breakers race shoreward and break against the cave mouth, compressing the air in the cave like a great compress, mid sending spray and foam through the chimney one hundred feet high with a roar that can be heard for miles.The writer, a boy of twelve, during the early spring of 1877, made the trip with the mail carrier and two government officials. One of these was a Mr. Whaley, famous as the custodian and manager of the Sanitary sack of flour sold during the Civil War period by the Sanitary Commission of California for fifty thousand dollars. A son of Whaley was later a member of the noted Gum-Shoe Squad of San Francisco Opium Detectives. The party arrived at Trinidad in the early afternoon. Before dinner on this afternoon, the party walked to the beach during a lull in the storm. The breakers were rolling against the shore mountain high causing the reef of rocks on which we stood to tremble, and dashing itself into white foam. At our feet, a field of white foam, acres in extent, lay all about. One would invariably shrink back as a great breaker came racing to shore to strike with tremendous force the reef sixty feet away. After the uneasiness had passed, one became enraptured and oblivious of the passage of time. As you behold this inspiring scene, a feeling of peace inexpressibly possesses one, as if the arm of omnipotence protected, with surf dashing at one’s feet.

At six o’clock on Monday morning the party was mounted ready for the trip. Our mounts were those early products of the American Horse and Mexican Pony, hardy animals of from 800 to 950 pounds. The storm had lulled and a drizzle o’ rain had taken its place.

Big Lagoon in 1947 [Photo courtesy of HSU Library Humboldt Room Special Collections, Shuster Collection]

After a short ride of nine miles over the rough mountain trail, Big Lagoon or Laguna Grande was reached. Rain was still falling. The trip from here led over the soft beach a distance of four miles, our horses sinking into the soft sand to fetlocks at every step.This body of water four miles wide by seven miles long had been filled to the top of the four mile barrier of sand three hundred feet wide that was kept in place by the constant ocean wash. As we neared the north end of this strip, the Lagoon waters had begun to trickle over; it was low tide. We had been walking, leading our horses, when Savage, the mail carrier, urged us on. Our horses sank in the water-soaked gravel. We urged them through this soft gravel at their utmost speed, knowing a matter of minutes only separated us from disaster. Our passage hurried the trickle into a stream. As we looked back, the soft gravel gave way; the stream became a river the river a Niagara, widening into a half mile as fast as a horse could travel. We finally emerged and from a rock bluff a half mile away beheld this awe-inspiring phenomenon, as the great body of water unbusomed itself through the barrier of soft sand in to the Pacific ocean.Pressing on over a short bit of trail to the dry, stone and fresh water lagoon, we again witnessed the same phenomenon, not quite as awe inspiring. The heavy storms of the preceding days had filled all these bodies of water to overflowing. It was at Big Lagoon some years later that the romance of Jimmy Watkins, self-sacrificing son of a pioneer family of Trinidad, ended in death. Jimmy had married a lovely girl and had established a hotel on the south shore of the lagoon. A little before dusk, he noticed a party crossing the treacherous strip of water-soaked sand. Realizing the danger, he went to the rescue and succeeded in saving the party from destruction but lost his own life. Many lives of both animals and men have been lost on these treacherous beaches during storms.We arrived at Swan’s, Redwood Creek, and had lunch. Redwood Creek was located by Griffin and Swan in the early ’Seventies, attracted by the beach gold and wonderful fertile valley. These pioneers hewed out a splendid heritage from nature’s wilds. Redwood creek was booming. Two Indians dropped a canoe down to a shelf of sand. Two of our party got in, taking the halters of our riding animals, the saddles being taken into the canoe, we led our horses into the stream. My horse swam too fast for the other horse and the Indian commanded, “Pull his head in quick, don’t let his feet hit the canoe!” Obedience was not delayed and the horse put his head over into the canoe. We finally landed on a bar some one thousand feet below where we started. The horses rushed out with snorts. The operation was repeated without mishap for the balance of our party.

Lagoon & Mining Flumes on Gold Bluff [Photo of illustration printed in publication, Photo courtesy of HSU Library Humboldt Room Special Collections, Palmquist Collection]

Our journey was continued to a point on the ocean shore, called the Gate. The Gate is a reef of rock extending into the ocean and can be passed only below half tide. The Gate is the southern end of the eight miles of the famous Gold Bluffs.These bluffs were formed by an ancient great river that flowed parallel to the ocean shore line. The more recent streams flow across these ancient river beds or directly opposite. The bluffs had two separate owners designated as the upper and lower bluffs. Prairie Creek cuts the bluffs into almost equal parts. These bluffs are three hundred feet high of cemented gravel. Constant ocean wash undermines them, and high masses topple into the sea, leaving sheer cliff some three hundred feet high. When the tide is in, the surf entirely covers the beach.

When we reached the Gate the tide was coming in and over half full.The mail rider said that if we could pass the Gate we could still make the beach. We managed to pass the Gate in surf at times covering the horses. We were drenched. One horse started to sea but a huge breaker drove him onto the beach again. The mail rider urged speed. We rode at times across slippery bedrock which the heavy ocean storm had swept clean of sand. We had ridden perhaps a mile when Savage, seeing a great breaker coming, turned his horse’s head to the sheer bluff and bade us follow his actions. When the bleaker broke, the surf covered our saddles. At ever more frequent intervals, we performed this maneuver. When half way in one of these dashes to the bluff, when the surf had about covered us, with a sheer bluff three hundred feet high of cement gravel in front and miles of white foam at each side, it was indeed a panicky sight.

As the surf receded, we continued on, finally reaching an opening in the mountain at the Gold Bluff Mines. Our party was well and hospitably received at the mine and provided with every comfort of the early miner.

Here we witnessed the operation of beach mining. These mines were fabulously rich in gold. A pack train of over forty trained mules were kept in readiness at all times, most of the time the saddles remaining on their backs. Scores of small canvas bags were in readiness. These bags resembled a huge pail and could be set on the sand like a bucket ready to be shoveled full. The canvas sides were so stiff that they would remain in an upright position. After a great storm, the gravel from the ocean depth was stirred and driven ashore.A rider on a swift strong horse rode the beach after every storm tide. If gold was washed in, he rode back and the mules were run on to the beach, the bags dropped on to the sand, filled, hooked on to the pack saddles, and the mules rushed to a dump where the sand was washed at leisure. Some of this sand was yellow with gold. These mines have returned millions to their owners.

Back of the Lower Bluff about four miles inland was a beautiful level mountain valley of sufficient area to grow everything necessary for the mine, both for man and animals and abounding in elk, a valley of the giants, surrounded by giant redwood sentinels truly to the pioneer a valley of the Gods.

At daybreak, after a refreshing rest, we were again on the road, about four miles of beach along the Upper Bluff. These bluffs were sheer. Some three hundred feet it was from these bluffs. The beach gold had been washed by the elements, during the centuries, and in concentrated form, piled by the mighty Pacific back on to the beaches. The tide being about half full and the storm having subsided, we had a splendid beach, and it was a lovely ride.

These great bluffs, after having been washed and undermined at the base by the seas of heavy storms, would break off in huge masses of thousands of tons, toppling over into the sea. As we travelled along this beautiful morning after weeks of storm, we noted that a horseman had preceded us by perhaps a half hour. A great mass of bluff had toppled into the sea, a mass reaching out into the breakers three hundred feet wide and from twenty-five to seventy feet high.

The tracks of the lone horseman passed directly under instead of over this mass of earth and gravel. We hastened forward over the barrier and found to our relief that the lone horseman had emerged on the other side. We did not learn who he was, but wondered if he ever realized how close to eternity he had been on this beautiful morn after the storm. We soon arrived at the Ossigan Creek and then at the Johnston mines, above the bluffs. Most of these mines are not producing now. Great bars of sand have formed a mile out in the Pacific of late years, and these prevent the heavy storms from stirring up the Gold Sands inside the bar and washing them ashore. The ingenuity of man will at some later time devise a method of reaching this gold.

The Klamath river was reached in late-afternoon. This great king of rivers, over one half mile wide, was in freshet. The Indians with log canoes prepared to ferry us over. A canoe would be paddled to shore and the party got in leading the saddle animals. It required a considerable amount of persuasion to get the animals to take the water. It is then a rather delicate matter to hold their heads in proper position to swim easily. Some horses swim faster than others.

On this occasion the current carried us over a mile toward the sea before a landing was made. The Indians figured correctly and landed in a cove and we were soon on terra firma. The Klamath at this time was the home of a considerable number of Indians known as the Klamath Indians. A rancheria existed on each side of the river. They were at enmity with two other tribes, the Lake Earl and the Smith River tribes. The day of our arrival, Smith River Indians had secreted themselves behind a big boulder and as the Klamaths emerged from their huts in the early morning, they killed two Klamath Indians and fled to their tribe.

At this period in California history, the authorities took no note of Indian killings in the Northwest. A gentleman named Tucker owned a trading post and entertained travelers. He greeted our party with more than pioneer hospitality and explained that he had been left alone for a few days when the Klamaths were killed. The aroused Klamaths had milled about like a bunch of stampeded cattle, ready to strike, and before Tucker could barricade the heavy shutters and close the door, Indians had filled the store and would not retreat. He had stood guard all day with pistols and a double barreled shot gun, threatening death to any Indian crossing a chalk line on the floor. They had not yet decided to strike when we arrived and the Indians dispersed. Tucker declared to us that he would never again open the Barricades for trade and he never did. Soon thereafter he left the Klamath.

The Douglas Memorial Bridge now spans this king of rivers. The trip on to Crescent City was uneventful, crossing the Damnation and ragged Extermity Mountains. These mountains did not belie their names; one never cared for a second introduction. The splendid Redwood Highway is now graded around these mountains. Crescent City at this time, 1877, was a lumbering and mining town, having been one of the first shipping points on the north coast.

Crescent City was the last Port of Call for the ill-fated steamer, Brother Jonathan. She struck a reef a Point St. George, a few miles north, and only a few of the three hundred persons then aboard were saved. The disaster occurred in 1865. The residents placed the recovered bodies (about one hundred and fifty bodies were washed ashore from the wreck) in a stone warehouse, leaving an aisle between for friends and relatives to pass to recognize and claim their loved ones. Many were never claimed and sleep their eternal sleep on a bluff overlooking the Pacific. Stories are told of buried treasure washed ashore, cached, and the location forgotten. Many expeditions were fitted out to attempt to recover the more than one million dollars of gold aboard. The deeps still hold the secret of its whereabouts.

Joe Wall, a pioneer who braved the seas of the Pacific at Trinidad and other points piloting ships into port, was the moving spirit, the giant of the commercial development of Crescent City. Malone and Johnson operated a wharf. The Wenger Mill Company operated a mill on Lake Earl at this time. Chrome ore of a high grade was being hauled by horse and ox teams from Low Divide and French Hill to the Crescent City dock, and shipped to Chelsea, England. These mines were again operated during the great war after having lain idle for over forty years.

Earlier Odd and Old News:

There are many, but here are the most recent:

• Anti-Gypsyism in 1897 Humboldt County
• Lost At Sea — The 1867 Wreck Of The Kaluna
• When Wolves Made the News
• When U.S. Grant Was Stationed at Old Fort Humboldt
• Odd, Old News: Fruit Raising in Southern Humboldt
• The Big War on Marijuana–100 Years Ago
• Eager Businessmen, Big Talk, and Railroad Progress–Round Valley Coal Fields, Part Two
• The Sad Saga of Big Diamond, Humboldt County’s First Elephant Fatality
• Dog Tales…
• Early Plans for an East West Railroad to Humboldt County