We hailed a car marked "Exposition" and were soon climbing the hills to
the west. Between the houses, we had fleeting glances of the bay with
its freight of vessels. Here waved the tri-color of France, while next
to it the black, white and red flag of Germany was flung to the breeze,
and within a stone's throw, Johnny Bull had cast out his insignia. At a
little distance the ships of Austria and Russia rested side by side, and
between the vessels the bustling little ferry-boats were churning up the
blue water.
"It is difficult to picture this bay as it was in early Spanish days," I
said, "destitute of boats and so full of otter that when the Russians
and Alaskan Aleuts began plundering these waters, they had only to lean
from the canoes and kill hundreds with their oars."
"But what right had the Russian here? Why didn't the Spaniards stop
them? Otter must have brought a good price in those days." There was a
ring of indignation in his voice, that told his interest had been
aroused.
"San Francisco was helpless. There was not a boat on the bay, except the
rude tule canoes of the Indians--'boats of straw'--Vancouver called
them, and these were no match for the swift darting bidarkas of the
Alaskan natives."
"And Luis Argüello in command!"
"I saw my idol falling, and hastened to assure him that the Comandante
had built a boat a short time before, but the result was so disastrous
that he never tried it again. The Presidio was in great need of repair
and the government at Mexico had paid no heed to the constant requests
for assistance, so Comandante Argüello had determined to take matters
into his own hands. The peninsula was destitute of large timber, but ten
miles across the bay were abundant forests, if he could but reach them.
He, therefore, secured the services of an English carpenter to construct
a boat, while his men traveled two hundred miles by land, down the
peninsula to San Jose, along the contra costa, across the straits of
Carquinez and touching at the present location of Petaluma and San
Rafael, finally arrived at the spot selected. In the meantime the
soldiers were taught to sail the craft, and the first ferryboat, at
length started across the bay. But a squall was encountered, the
land-loving men lost their heads, and it was only through Argüello's
presence of mind that the boat finally reached its destination. For the
return trip, the services of an Indian chief were secured, a native who
had been seen so often on the bay in his raft of rushes, that the
Spaniards called him 'El Marino,' the Sailor, and this name, corrupted
into Marin, still clings to the land where he lived. Many trips were
made in this ferry, but the comandante's subordinates were less
successful than he, for one, being swept out to sea, drifted about for a
day or two until a more favorable wind and tide brought him back to San
Francisco. The Spaniards called the land where the trees were felled
'Corte Madera,' the place of hewn-wood, and a little town on the site
still bears the name."
"But what became of the boat? You said--"
"Governor Sola was furious that any one should dare to build a boat
without his orders. He called it 'insubordination.' How did he know what
was the real purpose of the craft? Might it not have been built to aid
the Russians in securing otter or to help the 'Boston Nation' in their
nefarious smuggling?"