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Showing posts with label Preston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Preston. Show all posts

Monday, March 18, 2019

SERVICE FOR TWELVE: FEEDING THE CREW OF THE SNAGBOAT PRESTON



Researched and written by Eleanor Boba


We described once before some aspects of the storied career of the W.T. Preston, the snagboat that served the Corps of Engineers and the people of Puget Sound for more than half a century, 1929-1981. We are fortunate to have access to a series of oral histories conducted by Pam Negri in 1981 and 1982 with officers and crewmembers of the vessel. The oral history project was commissioned by the Corps of Engineers, Seattle District.



The W.T. Preston, with its sternwheel kicking up a wake, July 14, 1959. The Preston was home-berthed at the Ballard Locks. Photographer, Dietz.

Today we’re focusing on the care and feeding of the crew. The Preston served as home away from home for its crew of 12 to 14 men. Keeping these men fed and happy was a challenging job requiring creativity, flexibility, and good management and budgeting skills, a job that fell entirely to the cook and assistant cook.



Lee Fox slices roast beef while Gary Hunter stands by, July 14, 1959. Photographer, Dietz

Early Days

Many of the men on the Preston rose up through the ranks. Captain Norman A. Hamburg started out as cabin boy. He recalled the difficulty of obtaining and keeping fresh produce onboard in the early days.

“In the summer time, it was quite interesting because where we pulled up to the bank there, the farmers always had a liking to the snag boat. They would bring down the fresh vegetables and corn and invite the crew to come up and pick strawberries, raspberries, cherries or whatever was available in the summertime. Another thing we always cherished was fresh milk. We had no refrigeration onboard at that time. The cook would get enough supplies to last a week, then we had an ice box and we’d get about 12 quarts of milk- had to use that up pretty fast, because the ice didn’t last very long in the icebox. So, those 12 quarts would go pretty quick. When we stopped there, the farmers knew our conditions and they used to bring down a gallon of milk and we really cherished that- to have in our cereal in the mornings”. (Hamburg, tape 10)

The Preston went into service for the Engineering Department (Corps of Engineers) in 1929, on the cusp of the Great Depression. Captain Hamburg commented on those tough times:

“The cook had to take and put everything under a lock and key. We had a vegetable locker outside that acted as a cooler. Every evening, he would have to bring his lettuce, tomatoes, and things like that in because, during the depression, there was a lot of people out of work and we had a lot of things that would be stolen if it wasn’t brought in- laying in the docks in Seattle. There were people just coming aboard looking for a hand-out all the time.” (Ibid.)




Cook Eddie J. Padden in the galley, surrounded by the tools of his trade. September 19, 1967.

OLD MEETS NEW

While Captain Hamburg remembered the days before refrigeration, Jon Lynch, the last cook on the Preston, boasted of having two refrigerators and a large freezer, as well as a “walk-in refrigerator that’s no longer being used as refrigerator because the insulation wore out some years ago. So, I just use it as a store room now.” (Lynch, tape 5A)

Lynch was also proud of his top-of-the-line Kitchen Aide dishwasher. It seems the previous dishwasher, bought cheap, had lasted only about a year: “The door was sprung somehow, and I’m not sure but I think that someone tried to sleep in there once. After that it was a piece of junk…Some of these evenings get pretty rowdy.” (ibid.)

By contrast, Lynch cooked on an ancient oil-burning range that had to be started up each morning by one of the firemen on board. Someone told him the range dated from 1893 which, if true, might mean it was inherited from the original Puget Sound snagboat, the Skagit. Such a stove provided radiant heat, but did not offer much in the way of temperature control. Lynch noted that the oven temperature would quickly rise to about 600 degrees.

No Okra!

Or turnips, or rutabaga. Other than that, Cook Lynch found that the boys would eat just about anything he planned: “Meat, potatoes, salad, vegetables, gravy, sauces, soups. Pretty much whatever you would have at home, only more so.” (Ibid.)

Rough Weather

Lynch recalled one particularly rough crossing.

“Once, when we went to Port Townsend about six or seven years ago. It became really rough. This boat does not take any kind of weather at all, and it was rough. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the guys were seasick. It was really surprising how much this boat took. And it was really difficult to work on the stove. Everything [was] sliding back and forth. We don’t have any guardrails on board that stove. So, it was interesting, holding everything on there without having anything fall to the deck. It was really interesting, but I managed it.” (ibid.)

The Preston was designed for work on inland rivers and waterways. In the latter part of her career she was more frequently called upon to work in open water. This was one reason the boat was retired.

Place settings

The cook or cooks (there were usually two) were responsible for getting meals on time to all officers and crew, and this did not happen in one place. Officers were served in the wardroom, adjacent to the galley, while the rest of the crew ate “down below.” Food could be lowered down via a dumbwaiter in the galley. The cooks had to set up and serve food in both locations. If the captain chose to remain at his post at the wheelhouse, his meal would need to be sent up to him, an additional chore. Sandy Welsh, the last skipper of the Preston recalled these times: “It didn't bother me to eat up here. I know there were a few times when the cooks would get upset because they would have to prepare the meal and bring it up here, but that was part of their job, just like it's my job to run the vessel.” (Welsh, tape 25)



Noon meal in the wardroom, the officers’ mess. Left to right: William W. Morgan, 2nd Mate; Norman O. Ronning, 1st Mate; Captain Norman A. Hamburg; Elbert D. Becker, Acting Chief Engineer. September 19, 1967.


“Everybody’s favorite cook”

Fritz Rydberg’s name comes up often when researching the Preston. Rydberg served on the snagboats for forty years, most of that time as cook aboard the Preston. Easily recognizable in photos by his stature, he was often called “Little Fritz.” According to Captain Norman Ronning, Fritz was everybody’s favorite cook: “He was very dedicated. Took his job very seriously, and always wanted to please everybody that he could. He really done a good job.” (Ronning, tape 14)

Rydberg received a number of awards for service during his career. At his retirement party on April 7, 1952, he was given a radio equipped with a short-wave band “so he can listen in on ship talk when he gets tired of landlubber programs [as well as] a diamond-studded lapel pin with the emblem of the Corps of Engineers.” (Seattle Daily Times, April 8, 1952). He also received the Exceptional Civilian Service Award. The Anacortes Museum and Maritime Heritage Center preserves a number of photos of Rydberg, along with his prized recipe box complete with recipes. According to the museum, Rydberg was known for his large, hard sugar cookies, which crewmembers would sometimes toss to children along the shore. Rydberg passed away in 1969 at the age of 76.




Fritz Rydberg at the ancient oil-fired range and oven. This photo, taken on the day of his retirement party and appearing in the Seattle Daily Times the next day, was probably staged for the cameras. No food in the skillet!


Fritz Rydberg is honored on the occasion of his retirement from the snagboat service. He is presented with a short-wave radio, April 7, 1952.


The End of the Game: Surf and Turf

Prior to the official retirement of the Preston in 1981, the officers and crew commiserated with one last meal together. Jon Lynch described the lunch to Pam Negri:

“Well, we had a bottle of booze, we had expensive steak, and we had 8 oz. lobster tail imported from Maine. The steak was 10 oz. each…I imagine those people down at the office were slightly stunned to see $99.28 for lobster. That was for 12 of them [in 1981]. Then, one bottle of booze does not go around this table with anything left over. That was it, one small drink apiece to say Bon Voyage. That was all, that was the end of the game.” (Lynch, ibid.)




All oral histories referenced are in the custody of the Anacortes Museum and Maritime Heritage Center (as is the Preston, herself); all photos are held in the Corps of Engineers collection, in the care of Friends of the Ballard Locks.

And here's a link to some of the history of the Puget Sound snagboats, referred to earlier.

Link to earlier article on Puget Sound Snagboats








http://blog.friendsoftheballardlocks.org/2017/11/snagboats-on-puget-sound-brief-photo.html

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Snagboats on the Puget Sound - a brief photo history


This article was originally printed on Inside Passage, April 3, 2017. It is a blog maintained by the Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society. It was researched and written by Eleanor Boba, A link to their site will be added at the end of the article where many other articles of local historical interest may be found.


Snagboats on Puget Sound: A Photo Essay

The snagboat Swinomish in Lake Washington, circa 1916. The lowering of the lake to accommodate the new Ship Canal left many snags exposed. The photo is credited to Asahel Curtis.  Photo, Shoreline Historical Museum, #1249.


Snagboats were a familiar sight on the Ship Canal and on Puget Sound rivers from 1885 to 1981. The snagboats Skagit (1885-1914), Swinomish (1914-1929), and W.T. Preston (1929-1981) were charged with clearing snags and other debris from the region’s waterways. Aside from this primary duty, the snagboats were called to serve in many other ways.

For the full story of the Puget Sound snagboats, read Ron Burke's detailed and beautifully-illustrated article for The Sea Chest -- "Heritage of a Snagboat" (June 2001).
The snagboats Skagit and Swinomish side by side in 1915. Their A-frame cranes sit on the bows. 
Photo, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.


In 1980 and 1981 Pam Negri conducted a series of oral history interviews for the Corps of Engineers with current and former crew members of the W.T. Preston. The men shared a number of stories detailing both their ordinary duties and some unexpected tasks. (Tapes and transcripts in the care of the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center)

WHOOPIN' IT UP!

In a 1981 interview, Sandy Welsh Jr. explained that the Preston ended up with the whistles of both earlier snagboats, as well as its own:
The two big steam whistles from the Swinomish and the Skagit, they operated together. Mine was, well I call it a whooper, and it was kind of a steam siren. I operated it independently. You could kind of play a little bit of a tune with them both going. We had a lot of fun. There was a couple other steam boats that had whooper sirens on them. We would whoop back and forth.
People really get a thrill out of listening to the steam whistles. You'll go by, like through the Lake Washington Ship Canal, and people will come out of their offices or on the boat next to you and yell, "blow the whistle, blow the whistle.“ I'll always give an extra toot for a thank you for each of the bridges we go through. Most of the time the bridge tenders will give a little toot back in answer. Especially Bill, who works on the Ballard Bridge up there, he says, "how about a real long one with the bridge opening?" So, I'll give him a little bit extra long one because he really likes to hear the steam whistle. It's really funny though. You'll just see the people, and if you can't hear them you'll just see the arms pump up and down. "Blow that whistle!“ (Oral History, Virgil (Sandy) V. Welsh Jr., Second Mate and Caption on the Preston, 1975-81.  From the archives of the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center)

BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE

Captain William M. Morgan at the helm of the W.T. Preston, 1975. 
Photo, Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society.
Captain William W. Morgan told Pam Negri about part of the job that involved burning derelict houseboats:
We used to do quite a bit of work in conjunction with the Seattle Harbor Patrol. They would assist us, either bring in snags or tell us where they were at. Anyway, we were burning a considerable amount of houseboats, and they were the ones that were towing the boats down to Montlake across from the old canoe house at the U.W. There were times when we would have a half-dozen houses. We would burn them right down to the logs, then pick the logs up and set them on the beach.

This one particular time, we used to go in and open the valves or break the water lines so there was no water remaining to cause any possible explosions. We'd gone through this one house and broke a few lines, opened all the valves we could see. Then we set our fire. Well, it was really burning pretty good. The old tar paper roofs-everything was really going strong. Here comes a harbor police boat heading toward the shore-must have been an emergency. We were all standing on our deck, watching this houseboat burn when all of the sudden there's this terrific explosion. Here goes this hot water tank, shooting out across the water, landing right in front of this police boat coming full out towards it. It was pretty funny at the time, but could have been extremely serious.

[The Harbor Patrol] kind of laughed it off. Particularly one of them that I knew quite well, he said, "Wouldn't that look good on the front page of the PI [Post-Intelligencer], Preston torpedoes Seattle police boat with hot water tank." (Oral History, William W. Morgan (Tape 16), Deckhand, First Mate, Second Mate, and Captain 1952-1982. From the archives of the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center)


COWS ON THE BRINK

Norman Hamburg began his career as a cabin boy on the Swinomish in 1927 and later transferred to the Preston. In his 1982 interview he told Pam Negri about one little-known aspect of the work:

A lot of times there was a lot of erosion along the [river] banks. The cows would get too close to the edge of the bank eating grass, and sometimes the bank would cave in and down would go the cow in the river. We picked up quite a few cows in the river, set them back down on the bank for the farmer. [How?] Put a rope sling around 'em, just behind their front legs and just ahead of their rear legs, picked 'em right up with the donkey engine and swung them over and set them on the bank. They very seldom hurt themselves; they landed on the soft mud in the river there.  (Oral History, Norman Hamburg (Tape 10), January 15, 1982. From the archives of the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center)

Crew of the W.T. Preston, 1939. U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. 


WARTIME

Hamburg explains the effect of World War II on the snagboat business:

During World War II, when they stopped all river and harbor work, they tied the Preston up at the locks wall. They transferred all the laid-off crew that didn't have 15 years of service in. They found other jobs for them, but what I mean [is] they were laid off the Preston. They kept the captain, the chief engineers, myself and the cook. We stayed aboard the vessel for quarters and helped keep the vessel in shape, and we were transferred over to the locks. The chief engineer and I were transferred over to the machine shop -- working for Charlie Seagren. We were outfitting boats for Alaska and a lot of the boats were going up to [Adak?] Island, building the airbase up there. Also, the Alcan Highway [Alaska-Canadian]: we did a lot of work at the locks for the Alcan Highway making different things in the machine shop and the blacksmith shops. They didn't bring the Preston out until after World War II....but they kept us crew aboard in case some emergency would arise.
I remember when we came to work on December 8th [1941]; it was on a Monday morning. Driving down from Mount Vernon, we were stopped at the main gate going in -- soldiers galore. Went through  our suitcases. They went through our luggage and they walked with us down to the Preston to get verification that we belonged to that crew. Our cook -- little Fritz -- fed about, I'd say, 30 soldiers for the meals on the Preston until they had facilities built and they built barracks down at the locks for these soldiers to stay in because they were on guard there -- on duty 24 hours a day. The barracks at that time were built on a wall just west of the administration building. 
One of the first jobs the snagboat had was to lay a cable across from the small locks over to the south end of the spillway to hang a netted, mesh fence on there to stop anything that could drift down to blow up the spillway. Everything was very vulnerable. They had blackouts for all the sawmills, the homes, the street lights -- everything had to be turned out at dusk and you had dark blinds over your windows in the homes. There was absolutely no light on the west coast at all, until they found out just how vulnerable it was. They were afraid of a Japanese attack on the west coast. 
There were a lot of boats tied up in Lake Washington and Kirkland in the area.....Lake Union....and if something would have happened to the locks there, it would have drained the water out of Lake Union and been a real disaster. (Ibid.)

Coast Guard barracks and mess hall at the locks, August 14, 1943. 
Photo, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.


The last of the Puget Sound snagboats -- W.T. Preston -- was retired in 1981. Such snagging duties that are left on our well-traveled waterways are now carried out by the Puget, a small derrick barge. Two years afterwards, the Preston was acquired by the Anacortes Maritime Heritage Center where she may be seen today.

-- Eleanor Boba



The W.T. Preston, with sternwheel, was an impressive sight passing through the locks, February 3, 1972.
Photo, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.



You can visit the Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society and find many more articles of local interest here: