Princeton by the Sea

Distinguishing Characters: Shell is oval, fairly thick, reaching 10 inches in greatest diameter but most individuals between five and eight. Outer surface an olive green to reddish brown color, regular in form and sculpture, with numerous, broad, flat-topped ribs separated by narrow, straightsided grooves. The holes are small, circular, only slightly elevated (may be worn flush with shell in larger individuals) and five to seven are open. The shell may be covered by marine growths.

The interior is brilliantly iridescent with predominant shades of dark green and blue. The muscle scar is vivid and striking in appearance. The interior is considered by many to be among the most beautiful of all abalones.

The epipodium is an olive green with patches of brown. It is scalloped along the edge and small protuberances give it a rough, frilled surface. The tentacles are greyish green and somewhat short and thick and project from under the shell a short distance. This species shows considerable variation and H. splendens Reev, H. revea Bartsch, and H. turveri are synonyms.

Distribution: Although reported from the Farallon Islands and from Monterey it is doubtful that the species is found so far north. Its northern range appears to be Pt. Conception and it extends south to Magdalena Bay, Baja California. This or a subspecies also is found at Guadalupe Island, Baja Califoria. Records from the Gulf of California are based upon dead shells, probably carried there by travelers.

Habitat: This is a shallow water abalone inhabiting the rocky areas from about low tide out to 25 feet; occasional individuals ar taken at from 50 to 60 feet but the great majority are located in 10-to20-foot depths.

From California Abalones, Family Haliotidae, By Keith Cox, Dept of Fish and Game, 1962

and find out why his friends used to call him “Deep,” and why they now call him “Shallow.”

See the video: Meet Frank and the adorable dogs; you can’t see him, but that’s Rocky in the back window.

Frank’s business is:

“Larry and Jim Fortado: Fishermen,” written by Robbie Bergerson, appeared in the book (1977) Transitions: Montara to Pescadero, An Oral History. inspired and edited by Canada College teacher Aida Hinjosa.

Photograph of Larry and Jim Fortado’s boat, the Julia Marie by Katie Murdock.

The blustering winds whipped around the point at Princeton and left the bay within the breakwater frothy with whitecaps. I arrived at the Princeton boatyard mid-afternoon in search of the nearly completely fishing boat of Larry Fortado. It wasn’t hard to locate. Amid the rusted skeletons and half-constructed hulls, there she sat, gleaming white and blue. It was solid and bigger than I had expected. As I mounted the wobbling stairs beside the boat, I was amazed by its actual size.

I descended into the engine room through a hole in the deck where work was being done on the interior of the boat. It was dark and the thick heavy smell of paint made things close, contrasting with the bright and windy atmosphere above. I teetered precariously on two girders and tried to stay out of the way as people milled about with paint brushes and buckets. Larry Fortado, dark and rugged, swept by, shouting instructions and moving things here and there. The frame of the boat had been built for Larry in 1975, and the rest is being completed by him and the other workers.

Larry was reared on a ranch, but for the last seven years, he has been a commerical fisherman. He started fishing with his brother, Jim, and for the past year, the two have fished the waters between Alaska and Mexico on Jim’s new boat. The fish, they say, follow currents and so, in the natural sense, a fisherman, too, follows the currents of the sea. However, fishing has become quite scientific. Larry showed me the spot in the engine room where meters will record the passage of bait beneath the boat. With a grin, he says: “A good fisherman still watches the birds diving into a run of anchovies.”

Listening to Larry talk about fishing one can feel his close tie with the ocean. He speaks of experiences good and bad, of throwing line after line in and filling the hold with salmon. The fish are “gutted” and laid out on the ice to preserve freshness. But fishing is not an occupation without hazards. Recalling a bad storm, with 40-mile-an-hour winds, Larry tells of his exhaustion as the boat finally pulled from safe waters. The crew dropped anchor right inside the breakwater and men fell asleep, leaving the boat to be berthed until morning.

Our conversation continued and while we talked, Larry instructed his wife Mary, “Ya got anymore paint left? Let’s get that lazarette over there on that wire.”

Amidst the hollow banging and clatter, Jim Fortado, looking very much like his brother, appeared. Friendly, with a wide grin, he seemed eager to talk of fishing.

“Ya gotta have some kind of regulations. Like the crab–ya can’t take on feamles–have to be 6 1/2 inches or ya throw ‘em all back. So, ya know, you’re bound. In the old days, there was no regulations. Ya know, they just wanted to profit,” he said of the old fishermen. “They never thought of the future. They just didn’t see it. You know fifty or sixty years ago in this country they didn’t think anything was gonna happen. There’d be trees forever; ther’d be coal forever; there’d be fish forever. But now everybody realizes there isn’t. So you have to have regulations. Of course, we don’t like a lot of regulations,” he said with a grin.

“Things like limited entry. We’re gonna get that within the next coupla years. That’s like what Alaska has. You have to buy somebody else’s license. In other words, there’ll be maybe a thousand licenses and if somebody wants to get in they’ll have to buy an existing license from someone. Right now, a commercial fishing license costs only $35 per boat and $35 per man, but like in Alaska, if ya want to fish up there, I hear a permit costs ya $10,000. It’s like a liquor license.”

Now the two brothers, facing one another, balancing on girders, were really getting warmed up. All kinds of fishing talk started to flow. They told of the small group of commercial fisherman around Princeton. The eight or ten are a tightly knit bunch, close, yet competitive.

Competition with foreign fishermen does not concern the Fortado brothers.

“Foreign fishermen can’t fish salmon anymore, or crabs, or Black Cod or Rock Cod,” said Jim.

“Last year was our best year for crab; this year is our worst one.” And so it goes with fishing or farming or any occupation that depends on the cycle of nature. Jim predicted that the drought and man’s pollution would begin to affect the fishing in about three years.

The fishermen of Princeton consider the Coast Guard to be a good friend.

“They just inspect you sometmes,” said Jim. “Like once this year, they stopped a buncha boats and inspected ‘em for fire extinguishers, and it’s a good idea. It’s just a pain-in-the-neck but they very seldom stop you.”

Federal Agents also check the fishing boats occasionally.

“They have a ‘Hot List,’ kinda,” Jim recalled, “and they think a lot of boats are bringing in marijuana and stuff. I found out later my boat was on the list. They never did contact me for some reason.” Teasingly he continued, “That was when I had a mustache, so I really looked like a mafioso, ya know. They couldn’t figure out how a little country boy like me could have a $100,000 boat unless I was runnin’ marijuana.” They all laughed.

“Naw, they never really hassle us,” he admitted.

Princeton Harbor is a Harbor of Refuge where any vessel can put in, in time of trouble, without penalty. The harbor will always remain a Harbor of Refuge because it was built by the Federal Government with Army Corps of Engineers’ money.

Jim estimated that about thirty acres will be used to construct the new marina which is being planned at Princeton.

“The fishermen are definitely in favor of the new marina. I don’t know if you saw all these boats around here,” he said of all the rusty remains in the boatyard. “About ninety percent of those boats were anchored out there and sunk in one of the storms of the last three or four years. It’s a Harbor of Refuge, but I wouldn’t call it very safe anchorage. It’s only safer tha n outside when it’s a south wind. One year we had thirteen boats up on the beach. My brother and I hauled most of ‘em out.

“When we get a new marina in, they’re gonna put another little breakwater around which’ll stop all the wave action, and will have slips to tie up to.”

To emphasize the point, Jim told of a couple of drownings.

“There was a guy drowned here this winter. He was tryin’ to get his boat in a storm and he fell off the boat and drowned. Two years ago, another kid drowned. If we had a marina, ya know, it wouldn’t have happened.”

Considering the price of salmon in our local fish markets, it would seem that commerical fishing would be a prosperous business. Not so, the Fortado brothers claimed.

“Why then did you get started in this line of work?” I asked.

“How can you help it, being our here on the coast, near the ocean,” Larry stated simply.

Then, as if remembering a mutual joke, the two brothers replied in unison: “It seemed a good idea at the time,” and our laughter reverberated within the hollow hold.

Story by Robbie Bergerson

Photo of El Granada with Pillar Point Harbor, 1970s, courtesy Jerry Koontz, jerrysphotos.com

Katherine Middleton was known as the “honorary mayor” of Princeton in the 1940s and 50s. She died at age 96 in 1957.

She was the center of attention at many political and social events, an ardent supporter of what the future could hold for Princeton-by-the-Sea.

Katherine became famous for telling anyone who would listen: “Build Pillar Point Breakwater and this Coast will grow beyond anyone’s imagination.”

But where are the photographs of Katherine Middleton? Where is her family? There are a group of folks interested in naming the boat at the corner of Highway 1 and Capistrano the “Katherine Middleton.” Sounds like a great idea—if you have pictures of Katherine, or any leads, please let us know.

I have been in Pennsylvania . Just laid my Dad to rest Saturday after a long 10- year battle with cancer, I was glad to be there with him in his final moments,

Dad and I shared more than just names, I, too, (luckily) have his drive. I was putting the starter together for “Brother Buzz” out of several used starters when I got the call to be at his hospital bedside back east.

As for a photo of our Princeton Mayor… I’m still in search of a photo of Katherine Middleton, I’m sure there must be a picture of that Birth Day Cake cutting with Sheriff Earl Whitmore on her 96th back in 1957? I’m guessing in the old County Court House, It’s just tuff for me to get around since I can no longer drive.

While my Dad was here on his last trip west, 5 weeks ago, he took me down to the bookstore where he bought his last pipe, and I bought the last of your signed copies of “Princeton” –all along my Dad (Francis L. Young Sr.) sick from the chemo/ radiation and 3 broken vertebrae in his lower back, never complaining once; he was making this trek out here to be part of his oldest grandson’s 21st birthday, and you know not a single beverage was uncorked and I honored my 4 1/2 years of sobriety.

We are still looking forward to Naming the ship [at the corner of Hwy 1 & Capistrano] Katherine F. Middleton, and if it comes down to it heck I’m darn good at bow painting and if things seem to be progressing to slowly. I guess I could step up and grab a brush.

As to the San Juan search , I have had Independent reports back from friends, saying they have searched the area using the Lat and Long I had provided them so I have to hope it is a built- in malfunction in my gear because I have been back to the area on my ship to see the same again since the initial discovery!

As soon as my health is up to speed I shall make another run out there, I think I mentioned to you that the world renowned underwater researcher Scott Cassel (The Squid Guy) has shown some interest in helping me search also.

Did I mention that my wife Kathy’s Uncle Harry Maurer as a young man built ships at the Chester Ship Yards? That is where the San Juan was built.

Fran Brother Buzz Young

(Fran’s son Matt with his granddad)

While you’re buying fresh bread and pastries at HMB Bakery, be sure to enjoy the historic photographs of Coastside drag racing that owner Mark Andermahr has lovingly posted on the walls of his shop.

(The following is from the May 1980 edition of the Beachcomber. The Cordova story written by Bill Hendricks originally appeared in the 1977 book: Transitions: Montara to Pescadero, an oral history, a project initiated and edited by Canada teacher Aida Hinojosa. )

Joe Cordova: to build a boat

“It’s kind of a childish dream that I’ve always had. I’ve always wanted to build a boat.”

In this era of instant plastic and just about everything pre-fabricated, it’s surely refreshing to learn of an individual who, despite his limited financial resources and his countless everyday sacrifices, has set out to fulfill his lifelong inspiration. An authentic craftsman, Joe Cordova is a picture of individual achievement in the fairly new field of ferro-cement boat construction.

Joe, now a coastal resident of Miramar, California, has recently returned from St. Petersburg, Florida, where he spent some two-and-a-half years working on boats and accruing more sailing experience. He has worked the Pacific Northwest on everything from a salmon trawler to a forty-seven foot moth sailer. His talent as a carpenter periodically supplies him with money to live on and the building materials for the boat he is building. In his pioneering work with mortar and steel, Joe has endured a lot for the pride of accomplishment and the freedom of the high seas.

In the following story we will not attempt to give a step-by-step account of ferro-cement boat building, but rather a description of his method of boat building with limited resources and experience in a fairly new form of boat construction.

After his initial purchase of a set of plans from a naval architect, Joe proceeded to modify the original design to add his own “twists” to them. “So we made changes and changes and finally came up with something I liked and then I started to build her. She came out just the way he designed her to be.”

Joe chose the open-mold method of construction which is one of the fastest ways to complete a hull, and it is not expensive as other methods.

“After you’ve taken the wood and transposed it from planks into what they call a table of offsets which will give you the curves of the hull, you take your station frames and stand them up on their ends. You’ve got to plumb them up so they’re all straight and run in the contour they’re supposed to run in.”

After attaching the station members to a supporting platform and attaching the stringers to the members, Joe used to appropriate scaffolding set up to provide access to the inside of the hull and to lend additional support to the hull itself. Joe specified that all the wood in the hull frame is temporary and is only required to attach the wire mesh and steel reinforcing netting to. After the hull is cemented and allowed to cure, all the wood frames are taken out.

“Well, once you’ve got the frames all plumbed up and they’re all just right, you attach the frame for the bow on (forward part of the ship’s hull). Then you put the frame for the transom on (flat rear of boat). You know, raising a piece of plywood that high is a feat in itself and can post problems aligning it with the rest of the hull. To support it I’m using four-by-fours with one-by-four kickers on the top and the one-by-two battens are really a lot of support to the rough frame too. Once you’ve made the rough frame, then you can go on to your wire.”

The initial layers of wire mesh (poultry wire, 18-gauge one-inch mesh) are followed by several layers of three-sixteenths inch high-tensile steel submarine netting.

“You just kinda roll it on, stapling it to the hull frame as you go along. Probably in the last two weeks I’ve stapled no less than 12,000 staples and just countless lineal feet of chicken wire. After the first four layers. I’ll then take what they call submarine netting and add on several layers of it followed by more layers of the chicken wire. Then I take what they call hog rings and a special clamp and clamp the whole thing together. There will be four layers of chicken wire, one layer of sub-netting, and then one more layer of chicken wire and another sub-net layer, followed by four more layers of chicken wire after that. A total of nine layers of poultry wire and two of the submarine netting, all evenly space of course.

“It’s pretty much steel and you know that’s what gives the cement its actual strength. It’s like the foundation in a house. It allows the cement to work and yet gives it the strength.”

The next step is plastering the hull. As Joe described it, it sounds pretty easy, but it’s quite a job and obviously the most expensive part of the hull’s construction.

“Well, I’ll have what they call gunite and you have a bunch of people mix the mortar and you have a crew that just sprays it in. It’s all pressurized in, so all the wire just totally gets penetrated into the interior and the back-plastering crew can smooth out the hull’s inside. It sounds like a pretty easy procedure that you could do it all in one day, but it’s quite a bit of work. It will take seven men and then with the materials and everything, I’ll probably have to pay out about $1,200 in one day.

“I’ll probably have a total of $9,000 into her when she hits the water, and about $27,000 into her material-wise at the completed stage, with the actual value of the boat to be four times that much.”

After the hull has cured for the necessary period and the temporary wooden station members have been removed, it will be time to pour the keel (the backbone or bottom member of the ship) and to get the propeller shaft and deck fittings installed before plastering the deck. After all the necessary mechanics of the ship’s interior have been taken care of, Joe has adequately planned for a very elaborate custom interior.

“Well, right here is going to be a sixteen-foot wrap-around couch, I’ll have windows on the back so that you can look out on a view. As you step down into the main salon, one side will be a wet bar and one side, hopefully, will be a piano. I want a fireplace to be set closely to the couch. This side over here will be the galley; this side over here will be a head. It will also have a ’skinny-minnie’ washer and dryer, in addition to a bathtub. There will be a total of three staterooms and another head forward, with the cargo hold starting after that. It’s going to be a three-bedroom home. It’s going to be more than a salon; the couch will turn into a double bed and in the galley area the set will turn into another double bed. I’ll have the capacity to take twelve people for charters, fishing or salvage diving. You have got to make a boat versatile if you are going to make a living out of it. I’m going to roughly do the interior cabinet work and then sail to British Honduras where I have some friends and where I can have the interior in mahogany at a very reasonable price.”

Although Joe has not yet decided on his diesel engine, his first choice will probably be a Volvo-Pinta. “It is easier to get parts for Volvo all over the world,” he asserted.

Being a two-masted ketch, his mainsail will consist of approximately 878 square feet. The overall length will be 67 feet bow to keel, with 50 feet of deck to keep him and his crew in a sun-tanned state.

Whatever the long term result of Joe’s efforts in shipbuilding may bring him, we can only wish him continued success and admire his individual achievement of doing something today what a short time ago he didn’t feel he was capable of doing.

“I just said, The heck with it. If I don’t do it now, I just may never do it. I thought I better get my feet wet and I did and it hasn’t turned out too bad for me at all. Matter of fact, it has turned out extremely well.”

(This story was written by Bill Hendricks)

(more coming)