On our second day exploring San Francisco, Helen and I decided to launch at Crissy Field in the Marina District. We found a parking spot right on the beach, unloaded the boats and set off for Alcatraz.
Helen had been told on more than one occasion that kayakers are not welcome around the island, and have been told to keep their distance. But as we approached the island from the rocky south end I didn’t see any reason why we couldn’t just paddle right up to it. The only warning posted was half of a large rotting sign that dated from the days Alcatraz was a penitentiary. We could easily have gotten onshore without anyone noticing. Helen spotted some steps that reached down into the water, one of the very few friendly landing sites on the island. I could tell she was tempted to scramble up them while no one was looking, just to be able to say that we sneaked onto Alcatraz. Troublemaker!
We made it around to the north side in time to watch a ferry loaded with tourists arrive. I played in the currents of its prop wash as the passengers emptied onto the dock.
A sea cave is located at the bottom of a tall cliff on the side of the island that faces San Francisco. In 1943 a prisoner named Floyd Hamilton spent two freezing days in this cave before turning himself in. He had been presumed dead after guards fired at him as he was swimming and saw him disappear under water. After hiding in the cave and presumably giving up on trying to swim to San Francisco, he climbed back up the cliff and through the same window he had escaped from. He is known as the only person who ever broke into Alcatraz.
There is only one proven case of an inmate swimming from Alcatraz to San Francisco. On December 16, 1962 John Paul Scott reached Fort Point where he was found naked and hypothermic by a group of teenagers. You would think he would have picked a warmer time of year to try to escape! For some reason a lot of these escapees are found with their clothes off after attempting the swim. The park rangers suggest that the strong currents of San Francisco Bay ripped their clothes off. Or maybe they removed them themselves because of the extra weight and drag. Another possibility is that they took them off while in a hypothermic delirium.
Helen and I headed back to toward the city and meandered along the waterfront, passing the sea lion colony at Fisherman’s Wharf, sneaking underneath the piers, and paddling alongside open water swimmers in Aquatic Park. I would realize how lucky we were that day, when later in the week the wind picked up in the middle of a warm clear day and pushed fog in passed the Gate to surround Alcatraz and completely obliterate the view from the city just a mile and a half away. Conditions around here can be so dynamic!
Great post. Feels like having been there, Andrew.
Posted by: Ignacio Wenley Palacios | October 03, 2009 at 02:23 PM
You should have run the stairs!!!
Posted by: Tom | October 03, 2009 at 03:33 PM