Moffett Field from the air in 2008. Hangar One can be seen in the left center and Hangars Two and Tree in the right center. Photo credit: NASA.

Looking out over Silicon Valley, the airstrips of Moffett Field and its three gigantic hangars are a defining feature. The airfield is a bastion of open space surrounded by dense urbanity to the west and salt ponds and the bay to the east. If you drive by it along Highway 101, your eye naturally finds Hangar One. Oddly beautiful, it stands apart from Hangars Two and Three and conjures up a sense of hugeness, achievement, and possibility. Built in 1932 to house the Navy’s cutting edge lighter-than-air rigid airship, the USS Macon, Hangar One is the icon of Moffett Field and a symbol of pioneering aeronautical achievement in the 20th century.

You might have noticed that Hangar One looks different since 2011. This change in appearance was quite a catalyst for other significant changes.

The USS Macon in flight near Hangar One, 1933. Photo credit: NASA

Decades-long Dilemma: What to Do with Hangar One?

Heavy airfield use and related high costs for upkeep nearly shut Moffett Field down on numerous occasions throughout the six decades that it served the Navy as Naval Air Station Moffett Field. It officially closed as a Naval operation in 1994, when it was turned over to NASA Ames Research Center and renamed Moffett Federal Airfield.

Since that time, there has been near continuous evaluation of the fate of the airfield, and Hangar One in particular, by various federal agencies and commissions. The 1994 Moffett Field Comprehensive Use Plan found Moffett Field to be an important federal asset, as did all the other commisssions and committees over the years.

Hangar One in 1992. It looked pretty much like this for 78 years. Photo: NASA Ames Research Center

In 2003, plans to turn Hangar One into a space and science center were put on hold when polychlorinated biphenyl (PCB) was discovered to be leaking from its metal exterior. The Navy was still responsible for the environmental remediation, and its price tag of tens of millions of dollars. Initially, the Navy decided just to remove the metal skin and then demolish Hangar One. This prompted an outcry from local politicians, history preservation groups, and local residents who all wanted to save the Silicon Valley icon.

Graphic on the website of SaveHangarOne.org, founded in 2005. Photo: Courtesy of SaveHangarOne.org

In May 2008, the National Trust for Historic Preservation named Hangar One as one of America’s 11 most endangered historic places. In its news release about the designation, they wrote that the Navy would probably be compelled to complete the remediation but then leave the skeletal frame exposed to the elements to avoid costly restoration. They were right.

Public Protests the Navy’s Plans

In 2011, the Navy began stripping the interior and exterior PCB-laden metal covering of Hangar One at a cost of $25 million. They had no intention of refurbishing the building, but they sprayed the remaining metal skeleton with a coating to protect it from the elements.

Meanwhile, three Google executives, chairman Eric Schmidt and co-founders Larry Page and Sergey Brin, had been leasing Moffett Field’s Hangar 211 for a fleet of private jets since 2007. In October 2011, while Hagar One was still being stripped, they offered NASA $33 million via their company called H211 LLC, to pay for Hangar One’s restoration. In return, they wanted two-thirds of Hangar One’s floor space set aside for eight private jets. NASA could use the rest of the hangar floor area and the space above it.

NASA apparently did not respond to their offer. Perhaps it was because of previous cries of favoritism to Google that resulted because their lease of Hangar 211 was never put up for bid, and they might have purchased jet fuel at a much-reduced cost. Regardless of the reason, the local community saw H211’s offer as the last best hope to save Hangar One.

Hangar One while the outer skin was being removed, 2011. Photo: NASA

In late 2011, Congresswoman Anna Eshoo motivated 21 members of Congress, representatives of the cities of Sunnyvale and Mountain View, and several other interested groups to communicate with Charles Bolden, NASA Administrator, and implore him to accept H211 LLC’s lease offer. With such a viable solution so close, Bolden’s April 12, 2012 written response to Anna Eshoo did not go over well. Bolden replied that “…because NASA has determined that these properties no longer have a mission need and are therefore excess to the Agency, NASA’s Enhanced Use Lease Authorities are not available for these properties.” This incited a firestorm of local outrage and political maneuvering to bring the fate of hangar One and Moffett Field to the attention of all levels of the federal government.

April 27, 2012 letter from Congresswoman Anna Eshoo and 10 other members of Congress to the Honorable Rob Nabors, then White House Director of Legislative Affairs. The letter expresses profound concern about NASA Administrator Charles Bolden’s plan to declare Moffett Field and Hangar One as excess property. Source: Navydocs.org

Just Google it

By mid-2013, thanks to Congressional pressure, it was decided that NASA could negotiate a lease after all. An official NASA request for proposal (RFP) to lease the entire 1000-acre Moffet Federal Airfield (including Hangars One, Two, and Three) was issued in October 2013. A $500,000 cashier’s check was required as a bid deposit (returnable to any non-successful bidders).

Hangar One with its rafters exposed and artfully lit, 2013. Photo: NASA

In February 2014, NASA announced that Google’s proposal won and the company had signed a $1.16 billion, 60-year lease for Moffett Field. The runner-up was Orton Development Inc. of Emeryville, California, which specializes in building renovation and reuse. Google plans to allocate $200 million to rehabilitate the three hangars and two runways, as well as the site’s 18-hole golf course.

As of early 2016, Google is testing three methods for removing the coating that the Navy applied to the frame of Hangar One to prevent corrosion. Some contaminants remain under the coating, and the goal is to remove them before replacing the skin and renovating the hangar. According to Lenny Siegel of SaveHangarOne.org, who is also the recipient of the US Environmental Protection Agency’s 2011 Award for Citizen Excellence in Community Involvement, Google is also in the process of seeking approval for their planned work. According to Siegel, the most significant approval will likely come from the State Historic Preservation Office.

Google intends to use the three renovated hangars as research facilities for robotics and other developing technology. It’s not clear where their eight private jets will go, but cutting edge technology will again be housed in Moffett Field’s Hangar One.

Hangar One in 2014. Photo: NASA

The Saline Valley Hot Springs is a desert oasis maintained since the 1960s by free-spirits with names like ‘Wizard’ and ‘Lizard Lee’. Photo: Courtesy of Peretz Partensky

The end of the year is a good time to look forward but also to look back and reminisce. Why not look back a few hundred years while soaking in one of California’s many hot springs? The longer you soak, the more you might wonder who used these geothermal pools in the past. These are the stories behind four of California’s hot springs that have been harnessed by humans over the centuries.

Fales Hot Springs opened in 1877 and attracted folks from miles around to bath in its warm waters and listen to stories told by owner Sam Fale. Photo: Courtesy of Mountains of Moss (November 10, 2013)

Fales Hot Springs – The Mineral Waters with the Best Parties

Right away it should be noted that unfortunately these springs are currently closed to the public. The old resort’s baths have been off-limits for years and the one natural pool now has a no-trespassing sign posted. The current owners, however, plan to someday reopen the hotel and baths to the public.

The original owner and main attraction of these Mono county hot springs was Sam Fales. His hilarious jokes, far-fetched stories and impressive tobacco-spitting skills kept visitors entertained throughout their stay. The hot springs reached its peak in the 1890s with dinners, hot baths, live music and dancing at the cost of 50 cents for adults, 25 cents for children.

At Christmas-time Santa came to visit and crawled up the chimney, calling down to children by name and asking them what they wanted for Christmas. Sam kept resort visitors in stitches until the ripe age of 104. He was reported to drink a ladle of the spring water every morning, making it hard not to wonder if his long life was due to this daily elixir and the countless hours he spent soaking in those mineral springs.

In 1940, under new ownership, the resort became the place to “dine, dance and romance” according to the Bridgeport Chronicle-Union. Their Christmas Eve party that year is sure to make you greener than a grand fir tree with envy: Each guest was given a Christmas tree, presents, and a buffet supper for a paltry $2.50.

The Fales lodge sadly burnt to the ground in a dramatic explosion in 1952 when the Ventura Butane Company was filling their fuel tank at the adjacent gas station. The shell of the new restaurant built in 1954 still stands today, empty and unused but not in complete disrepair.

The resort lasted through several owners until Resort Development took it over in 1979. They had many lofty plans for the resort including new cabins, an Olympic-sized pool and ski-training behind the resort but none came to fruition, and Fales lodge quickly slipped into a sad state of neglect.

Today’s owners hope to renovate and reopen the hotel to the public but for now the windows remain boarded until given a new life.

Saline Valley Hot Springs – An Unsanctioned Desert Oasis in Death Valley National Park

Shaded by palm trees, this Death Valley desert oasis was constructed and is maintained entirely by volunteers and can only be reached by driving five miles per hour down a rutted dirt road 50 miles from food, water or cell phone service. Directions are vague and mysterious: “Turn left at the dry lakebed; make a right at the metal bat on a pole”. This means few venture to these springs and with multiple stone tubs to choose from, you’re sure to get a private well-earned soak.

Construction of today’s concrete tubs, showers, sink and outhouses began in the 1960s by a crew of volunteer nomadic nudists. They created a seasonal vacation spot in the harsh Death Valley climate and were left to their devices until the area became part of Death Valley National Park in 1994. The park service limited visitation to 30 days a year and all original inhabitants dispersed except for one man named Wizard. He remained at the springs as unofficial caretaker until the job passed on to ‘Lizard Lee’ after his death.

Located on parkland, the renovations, nudity and metal shack of Lizard Lee are technically against park regulations, but park service has decided to turn a blind eye to bare bottoms and desert dwellers at the springs. In recognition of the spring’s popularity and their unwillingness to shut them down, park service years ago replaced the original outhouses with concrete-lined latrines.

If you’re up for the perilous journey, the Saline Valley Hot Springs offers to take you back to the free spirit days of the 60s when a nudist commune could spontaneously spring up from remote white desert sands.

Vichy Hot Springs – 160 years of History Almost Erased by a Mobile Home Park

The warm, carbonated mineral waters at the 160-year-old Vichy Springs Resort in Ukiah rival the famous springs in Vichy, France. Photo: Courtesy of Vichy Springs

Photo: Courtesy of Meg Solaegui

Wilbur Hot Springs is not only a lovely place to soak away your worries but also once saved a man’s life. In 1863 General John Bidwell was searching for gold when one of his men fell ill. Fortunately, local Native Americans directed the men to the healing sulphur springs and after soaking in the hot waters, the man’s health miraculously improved.

A man named Ezekial Wilbur purchased the land around Sulphur Creek in the 1860s. After an unsuccessful attempt to make money from mining copper, he built a wood-frame hotel at the springs in 1865 and named the spot “Wilbur Hot Sulphur Springs”.

Word spread of the healing waters in Colusa County, about 30 miles east of Clear Lake. Wealthy men and women were determined to experience the springs even though the closest railroad station was a four-hour stagecoach ride away.

Wilbur’s hotel and cabins were torn down in 1915 and replaced by today’s concrete hotel, one of the first concrete buildings in California. The building has lasted but for years the 20-room hotel and bathhouse were abandoned and run down, the windows broken and walls marred by graffiti.

The “Fountain of Life Geyser” at Wilbur Hot Springs is one of only 1100 known geysers in the world, half of which are in Yellowstone. Photo: Courtesy of Jan Zuppinger

The springs current owner, Dr. Richard Miller, reopened the hotel in 1974 and used the hot mineral waters as part of a detox program for 1,500 alcohol and drug addicts. The program’s only prescribed medication was the sulphur springs. Dr. Miller also set aside 1,560 acres of the oak woodlands around the creek as a nature preserve assuring that the springs remain sheltered in the peaceful rolling hills of Northern California. The historic hotel experienced a damaging fire on On March 29, 2014. No one was injured and the hotel was restored and under full operation again by New Year’s Eve 2014. New guest cabins were added and opened in 2015 – just in time for the 150th anniversary of Wilbur Hot Springs.

Updated August 9, 2016.

Monopole turbines at Altamont Pass, 2008. Photo: David J Laporte

I’m sure many Californians have marveled at the thousands of wind turbines spinning atop the golden hillsides along Highway 580 between eastern Alameda and Contra Costa counties. I remember looking out the window as a child in awe of the behemoths’ slowly turning blades, thinking they belonged to a futuristic era run by robots. Little did I know, the turbines of Altamont Pass comprise the oldest wind farm in the United States and once produced half of the world’s wind-generated electricity.

The Town of Altamont

Before Altamont Pass was realized as a prime location for wind turbines, a few homesteaders in the late 1800s tried to set down roots on the windy hillsides. The town of Altamont came to life in 1868 along with the Central Pacific Railroad. Settlers of Altamont had unfounded hopes of transforming the landscape into rolling fields of productive crops. The unrelenting winds, however, proved too strong and Altamont was mostly abandoned by 1939.

Ranchers took the place of these first settlers, grazing cattle on the windy hillsides. Some ranchers still live on the windswept lands today, bolstering their slim ranching profits with money made from harnessing the wind.

Altamont Pass, 2008. Photo: David J Laporte

The Wind Rush of the 1980s

After the 1973 oil crisis, the U.S. government began offering tax incentives for renewable sources of energy. With a new bill in 1979 that provided a 15 percent tax credit for wind projects, wind farms became a very profitable investment. This triggered an era called the ‘Wind Rush’ and visionary entrepreneurs began frantically scouting out the windiest sites. When one of these entrepreneurs, Alvin Duskin, was told by a state meteorologist of the unceasing winds of Altamont Pass, he quickly went to work getting investors and the site’s ranchers on board. In 1981, it was the first wind farm in the United States to start spinning its blades. Four years later 1,600 turbines harnessed the wind on Altamont Pass.

The big profits ended in 1986 when both state and federal credits were repealed. Many wind farmers barely made it through the late 80s and 90s. Things only got worse for Altamont Pass in 1992 when a study by the California Energy Commission revealed that the farm’s turbines killed an estimated 39 golden eagles per year.

Migratory Route Turned Wind Farm

It turns out Altamont Pass is a major migratory route and offers prime hunting grounds for golden eagles, American kestrels, and red-tailed hawks. Further studies have shown that 2 to 4 thousand birds, including the federally protected golden eagle, die each year from colliding with a turbine while flying through Altamont Pass. To add insult to injury, the design of the original 1980s windmills utilized a lattice base that is an attractive resting and nesting site for birds. Although the turbines’ blades appear to move slowly, some reach speeds of up to 179 mph, plenty fast to severely injure or kill a bird (or bat) if they get too close.

Newer monopole turbines tower above the old lattice base turbines from the 1980s. Pictured in 2008. Photo: David J Laporte

Quality Over Quantity: New Turbines at Altamont Pass

Today, the Altamont Pass Wind Farm is one of three major wind resource areas in the state, along with Tehachapi and San Gorgonio. The three regions combined provide 95 percent of the state’s commercial wind-powered electricity. As of 2012, five percent of the state’s power came from wind, and the goal is to ramp that number up to 33 percent by 2020. Altamont Pass is a huge part of this project: At over 4,000 turbines, it has the largest concentration of wind turbines in the world. The problem is, most of these turbines are over three decades old, and relative to their newer counterparts, don’t produce nearly as much power and are a greater threat to wildlife.

Seasonal shutdowns of the turbines help prevent bird fatalities but ‘repowering’ (replacing old, inefficient turbines with newer, safer and higher energy-producing models) will hopefully save more birds when the blades aren’t at rest. You can see these 430-foot turbines towering above the old 80 foot lattice base models. Each new turbine generates as much electricity as 23 of the old towers. The new towers are part of a 2010 agreement made between environmental groups, the state and NextEra Energy Resources (a Florida-based energy company with wind projects nationwide) to decrease the number of bird deaths at Altamont Pass. Not only do these new turbines decrease the concentration of windmills, but the blades rotate more slowly and are much quieter.

Initial studies conducted for the 2010 agreement showed a 54 percent decrease in raptor fatalities and 66 percent decrease in fatalities for all birds. More recent studies, however, are showing that the new models kill more birds per individual turbine because they reach into air space used by high-flying raptors and have a much wider rotor span.

Altamont Pass with green hills in 2008. Photo: Fietsbel

The Future of Wind Farms at Altamont Pass

A company called Ogin has broken away from the standard 18th century windmill design. The spinning rotors of their turbines have a diameter of only 41 feet—the monopole’s is 300!—surrounded by a ring of large flaps called a shroud, meant to prevent birds from flying too close to the deadly blades. These new-age windmills sit much lower to the ground, are much quieter and produce up to 50 percent more energy per turbine. The timeline is unclear, but Altamont Pass plans to replace some of the turbines with the new shrouded design in hopes of protecting both birds and bats while generating more power.

Ideally, because Altamont Pass is a major migratory route and breeding area for raptors, it wouldn’t be a wind farm at all. It’s hard to say what the distant future holds for Altamont Pass. Perhaps centuries from now the turbines will all stand still, artifacts of a bygone era. Wind will be harnessed from rooftops so that wide open spaces can remain just that. As people pass through the golden hills, children will peer out the window and wonder at the immobile robots standing sentinel over the barren landscape, and golden eagles will soar unscathed past the motionless blades in the unremitting wind.

Updated August 9, 2016

An arrow in Sweetwater, Wyoming with the train in the background. Photo: Dreamsmithphotos.com

In terms of leaving a signature mark on the landscape the Egyptians built the pyramids, the Romans built straight roads across Europe, the Chinese the great wall. Here in the United States we have…70-foot concrete arrows all across the country! It’s really true. There were 1500 of them built between 1923 and 1933 to guide pilots for flight during day and night.

An arrow in Golconda, Nevada. Photo: Dreamsmithphotos.com

Postal Service Shows the Army How to Fly Mail

The postal service wanted to deliver mail via air during WWI but was unable to gain access to planes. Shortly after the war ended, the War Department decided to use the postal service to train its pilots in cross-country flying. The first airmail flight, from New York to Washington, DC, was flown in May 1918. The pilot got lost and landed in the wrong airport.

A beacon with an angle in Tooele, Utah. Photo: Dreamsmithphotos.com

Three months later the postal service took control of airmail routes and made the Army airmail pilots postal employees. The postal service fine-tuned the process of flying mail and the inaugural flight of the Transcontinental Mail Route from New York to San Francisco was in 1921. The route was 2,612 miles and had 13 stops along the way.

The Transcontinental Airmail Route from New York to San Francisco. Image: Courtesy Federal Aviation Administration

Swashbuckling Pilots are Inefficient

Early pilots had no navigation aids and no radio communication. They had to literally look out the cockpit window for landmarks and use roadway maps. Flying in an open cockpit, in a leather suit and battling the elements is a romantic notion; but it was not very safe and did not allow flying at night. In 1919, Army Air Service pilot Donald Bruner experimented with bonfires for nighttime navigation. In 1921 an airmail pilot named Jack Knight flew at night from Chicago to Nebraska aided by bonfires lit by postal service staff, farmers and volunteers.

A standard airway beacon tower. Image: Courtesy Federal Aviation Administration

An Aerial Roadway Across the Country

By 1923 the idea of lighted beacons and improved safety had taken hold. The post office effectively lighted the entire Transcontinental Air Mail Route by installing lights on 51 foot towers placed at intervals of 10-25 miles. The tower stood in the middle of a 50 to 70-foot concrete arrow. At night, local citizens, often farmers, would light the acetylene-gas powered beacons. The fuel was stored in a shed at the base of the arrow. Each beacon had a rotating light which flashed an identification sequence and had a fixed light shining towards the next beacon and one back to the last. They were designed to be visible for 40 miles. While the Transcontinental Airway tends to get all the press, these beacons were built all over the country for many mail routes.

A recreation of the standard beacon tower by the Cibola County Historical Society (CCHS) Grants, New Mexico. Photo: CCHS

Great While it Lasted

In 1926, the Air Commerce Act gave the Department of Commerce jurisdiction over aviation. The idea was that the federal government was needed to assist the aviation industry in improving standardization and safety. The Department of Commerce continued expansion of the airmail beacon system until 1929. By the 1930s, navigation and radio technology had improved to allow flight without land-based visual guidance. The airmail beacon program closed in 1933, when technology advancements and the high cost of operation made it obsolete.

An arrow with associated shack in Carbon, Wyoming. Photo: Dreamsmithphotos.com

Various beacons operated in limited capacities into the 1940s. During WWII many were taken down and their towers recycled for the steel. All visual airway beacons were shut down in 1973, except in Montana where they maintain 19 of the original beacons.

A beacon in Montague, California. Photo: Dreamsmithphotos.com

Updated August 9, 2016.

Further Information

Arrows Across America Website
Ciabola County Historical Society Aviation History Museum

The famous “cats” guarding the road to Poet’s Canyon in 1925. The automobile is a Ford Model T (notice the spare inner tube for the tires). Photo: William A. Wulf Collection, Courtesy of Richard Beal.

Updated March 15, 2016 with new photos from Richard Beal, author of Highway 17: The Road to Santa Cruz.

Living in Santa Cruz and driving back and forth over Highway 17, I always thought the Cats Restaurant and the two cat statues just a few hundred feet south of it derived their inspiration from the nearby town of Los Gatos (the cats in Spanish). But this is apparently not true.

The eight feet tall cats, Leo and Leona, have kept watch over the entrance to “Poets Canyon” since 1922. They were commissioned by writer Colonel Charles Erskine Scott Wood and poet, suffragist Sara Bard Field to mark the entrance to their 34 acres; their safe haven and place to philosophize and write poetry.  They built a house, planted a vineyard and put big wine casks out along the road as a way to protest prohibition. The property was a hang out for artists, writers and musicians of the day. Sara wrote well known poems while living there: The Pale Woman, Barrabas, and A Darkling Plain. Charlie Chaplin, John Steinbeck and even First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt visited the place.

Colonel (Ret.) Charles Erskine Scott Wood. Wood died at age 92 in his much loved “castle in the sky.” [Courtesy Horace Bristol] Photo: Courtesy of Richard Beal.

The statues were originally modeled in clay and then made in concrete. Created by sculptor Robert Paine, he lived on the property for the year it took him to make them and accepted only a small payment. According to Richard A. Beal, author of “Highway 17: The Road to Santa Cruz,” Charles and Sara conceived of their cat statues not  because of neighboring “Los Gatos” but because they just liked cats. Los Gatos was named in the 1840s after the wildcats in the area and Leo and Leona don’t look completely like mountain lions or bobcats, so it could be!

Wood died at age 92 in early 1944, his last years in failing health. Field, who had married Wood in 1938, continued to own the property until 1955, when she sold it to an oil executive, Fred G. Hampton.

The estate was owned by the Ogilvie family from 1960 until it sold in Nov. 2013. Eva “Diane” Ogilvie, was an entrepreneurial Los Gatos woman who apparently persuaded Hampton to sell to her. It remained in the Ogilvie family, largely unseen by the public. The Ogilvies expanded the property to 75 acres, with a total of nine parcels. Diane’s husband Bruce died in 2003 and when Diane died in 2011, the family decided to sell. Artisan Sothbys International listed the property for sale in late 2013 for $8.95 million. It sold and the new owner says the historic aspects of the site will be preserved.

“The Cats” entry to the former estate of Charles Erskine Scott Wood and Sara Bard Field in Los Gatos, California, March, 2006. Photo: Matthew A. Voorsanger.

Todays Cats Restaurant and Tavern was a stop on the old stage line from Santa Cruz to San Jose. It was a raucous social gathering place and in the 1920s was a speakeasy and bordello. In the 50s and 60s it was variably a realty office, gun shop and sporting goods store. It became a restaurant again in 1967. The Ogilvie Family bought the restaurant in 1977 and ran it until 2006. It stood closed until 2011, when new owners opened it on New Years Eve. Diane Ogilvie died on Oct 3, 2011 and was hoping to support the new owners by eating there when it opened. Unfortunately, she did not make it.

In October 2013, the Museum of Los Gatos Art and History ran a six month long exhibit “American Bohemia:  The Cats Estate in Los Gatos” it explored the lives of Wood and Field.

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The Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse, built in 1967.

Geology, the lighthouse, World War II and surfing history are all woven into the story of Lighthouse Point.

The Geology

Lighthouse Point is composed of a particularly resistant part of the Purisima Formation. In general the Purisima erodes fairly easily. For this reason the ocean was able to cut landward, and create the Monterey Bay. However, Lighthouse Point, and a few other resistant headlands, like San Lorenzo Point and Pleasure Point, have withstood the ocean’s erosive powers. Lighthouse Point, in fact, protects Monterey Bay’s northern beaches from much of the wave energy they would otherwise get from the dominantly northwest waves. Even so, Lighthouse Point has been subject to wave erosion over the years.

Port City Needs a Light

In the 1850s Santa Cruz was a bustling port city. Ships dropped anchor in the natural harbor offshore from the main beach, and loaded up with redwood, lime, leather, and plentiful agricultural products. Because of the need for a lighthouse to guide these ships, Congress appropriated $30,000 for the task in 1852. Unfortunately, the title to the land was not clear, a common problem in post-Mexican California of the 1850s, and the money was actually returned unused.

It was not until after the Civil War and following an 1867 ruling by the California Supreme Court that title issues were settled. The lighthouse was finally built in 1869, and this time Congress only allocated $10,000. When it was first lit on January 1st 1870 it was the 12th “Light” on the coast of California.

The lighthouse circa 1888. Photo courtesy of the Santa Cruz City-County Library System.

The Light is Moved

The original lighthouse location was close to the cliffs. In 1878, less than ten years after it was built, a letter was sent to the Lighthouse Board noting that three large caves (all over 50 feet long and fifty feet wide) penetrated the point, and the largest extended to within 12 feet of the lighthouse.

To preemptively save the lighthouse from potential catastrophic cliff erosion, the Lighthouse Board ordered it to be picked up and moved 300 feet landward. Thus from 1879 to 1948 the lighthouse was located on the north side of what is now West Cliff Drive. In the picture above the lighthouse is in its second location.

Brick remnants of the original 1869 lighthouse (center left). The round brick thing (center right) was a cistern used for collecting rainwater from the lighthouse roof.These can be seen in the cliff edge in the cove to the east of the “Don’t Be Next” sign.

Lighthouse Keepers

An important resource to the community, the lighthouse was also a home for the lighthouse keepers and their families. For the first 46 years the official keeper was first Adna Hecox and, upon his death, his daughter Laura Hecox. When she resigned in 1916, Arthur Anderson moved in with his family. All three keepers and their families were integral parts of the local community. Arthur Anderson retired in 1940 and was the last official lighthouse keeper. On July 1, 1939 the Coast Guard assumed responsibility for this and all of the nation’s lighthouses.

The Santa Cruz Lighthouse, circa 1900. Image courtesy of Frank Perry.

A Long Run Comes to an End

In 1941 the Coast Guard installed an automated beacon on top of a 26 foot, white, wooden tower. The beacon was about 20 feet north of the current Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse. The Coast Guard then officially decommissioned the Lighthouse. The light from the beacon was less than half as bright as that from the lighthouse (11,000 vs. 25,000 candle power units). By 1930 due to roads and railroads, Santa Cruz no longer had much shipping traffic and the installation of a weak light in 1941, really only good for local fisherman, reflected this reality.

Aerial view of Lighthouse point circa 1941. You can see the beacon and the old lighthouse on the north side of West Cliff Drive. Image is used courtesy of Frank Perry. Ed Webber was the photographer.

Enter World War II

The lighthouse facilities became critical again during World War II. After the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, nine Japanese submarines arrived on the west coast and began stalking merchant ships in an effort to scare Americans into believing the Japanese would attack the mainland. There were, in fact, several attacks on US ships along the California coast by Japanese subs in late December, 1941; one was off Carmel on December 20th. In total, two ships were sunk, and two more were damaged. Six seamen were killed. The Japanese subs left shortly thereafter. The US then began to doubt whether the Japanese would attack the mainland.

That thinking changed abruptly however, when a Japanese sub attacked the Ellwood oil field in Santa Barbara in late February. This attack, actually on the mainland, spurred the US government into prolonged commitment to protect the California Coast. By Easter, two hundred soldiers from the 54th Artillery Regiment, an all-black unit, were stationed in Santa Cruz and housed on the Lighthouse property and adjacent Lighthouse Field (then known as the old Phelan estate).

A Cultural Opportunity

The coming of 200 black soldiers to Santa Cruz was quite a change to a town whose previous black population had been 18. Apparently, “the town did not know what to do.” The reactions ranged from welcoming to blatantly prejudiced. On the welcoming side, the City offered USO shows, and the soldiers played baseball against the local high school. On the not-so welcoming side, the City fathers tried to make parts of the town off limits to soldiers of the 54th. The local military chaplain, incensed, threatened to boycott “the whole damn town” and local businesses ultimately squelched their inner racism. After the war, several men from the 54th settled in Santa Cruz, many here on the Westside in the “The Circles” neighborhood off of Woodrow Avenue.

19 Years: No Lighthouse

Post-WWII the lighthouse was not serving a particular purpose for the Coast Guard, and they had it demolished in 1948. From this time until 1967 Santa Cruz had no lighthouse, just a beacon with a light so weak local fisherman complained it could not be distinguished from the car headlights on West Cliff Drive. In fact, a petition drive to the Coast Guard in 1959 did result in a 1962 upgrade to a 300 millimeter lens with 80,000 candle power units— a huge improvement.

Aerial view of Lighthouse Point in 1957. The beacon stands alone. The only traces of the lighthouse are the cypress trees that outline where it stood from 1878 to 1948. Image is used courtesy of Frank Perry.

Out of Sadness: A New Lighthouse

The beacon might still be the only light here today, if not for the tragic death of a local boy named Mark Abbott. On a Sunday morning in February, 1965, Mark went to the beach with his friends. He went body surfing and never returned. His body was found floating motionless in the water. Mark’s parents, Chuck and Esther Abbott, amazingly, were able to turn their grief at losing a child into something positive for the community.

With the support of the City Council, the community and a $20,000 life insurance payout, they built the Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse. The new Lighthouse, complete with a rotating light, was opened and dedicated in November, 1967. The new lighthouse honored Mark, but the Abbotts made sure it honored even more than their son. A bronze plaque inside the lighthouse reads:

“This lighthouse is further dedicated to all our youth whose lives, through fate or misadventure, are terminated before realizing their true potential. May their spirits find new dimension in the unknown horizons that await us all.”

Surfing Takes Its Place

The Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse, and indeed the whole Lighthouse Point area, has grown to be a very special nexus of expression for the Santa Cruz Surfing Community. In 1986, due to the efforts of local surfers, members of the Surfrider Foundation, and the Santa Cruz Longboard Union, the world’s first museum dedicated solely to surfing was created and housed in the Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse. It was originally a satellite of the Santa Cruz Museum of Natural History. It contains a collection of photos, surf boards and memorabilia that come largely from the local community. Local volunteers also did the historical research for the exhibits.

Commemorations

The spirit of honoring the past, both surfing and otherwise, can also be seen here in several plaques and monuments. A large brick monument in front of the Lighthouse tells the story of the three Hawaiian Princes who were likely the first to surf in Santa Cruz, back in 1885. They were on holiday from their training at Matthews Hall Military Academy in San Mateo.

Commemorating the three princes from Hawaii.

Another plaque at the base of the flag pole further dedicates the Lighthouse to all young souls who have perished before their time. Yet another plaque, located on the west side of the Lighthouse by the benches near the sidewalk, commemorates the work and dedication of the soldiers of the 54th Coast Artillery Regiment stationed here during World War II. This plaque was unveiled and dedicated in 2009.

Erosion: Always in Play
If you walk out in front of the Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse, just beyond the rails in front of the danger sign, you will see the brick remains of the original lighthouse built in 1869. In 1980 the last remaining vestige of one of the caves that undermined the original lighthouse was plugged with concrete, as it threatened to undermine the Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse. The plug, unfortunately, did more harm than good because it deflected waves upward, increased erosion of the upper cliff, and exposed the brick foundation of the original lighthouse site. It eventually washed out in 2000.

Filling the caves under Lighthouse Point in 1980. Photo by and courtesy of Frank Perry.

During the El Niño storms of 1982/83 waves eroded the sea cliff to within 10 feet of the Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse. A new concrete retaining wall was built in the 1990s. Two caves still remain: one just to left of lighthouse facing south (the one that had the concrete plug), and another on the west side facing southwest. It is quite deep and extends almost to the lighthouse.

Further Information

• Lighthouse Point: Illuminating Santa Cruz. Frank Perry. 2002 OtterB Books. Available at the Santa Cruz Museum of Natural History, Santa Cruz Surfing Museum, and Natural Bridges State Beach Visitor Center.
• Local Historian Frank Perry’s Website
• Santa Cruz Surfing Museum. Located at Lighthouse Point, it is open Wednesday-Monday 10 am to 5 pm (July 4-Labor Day) and Thursday-Monday 12-4 pm the rest of the year.
• Santa Cruz Museum of Natural History. Located at 1305 East Cliff Drive, it is open Wednesday-Sunday 10 am to 5 pm during summer (Memorial Day-Labor Day), and Tuesday-Saturday, 10 am to 5 pm the rest of the year. Call (831) 420-6115 for more information.
• Lighthouse Friends.

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This piece is part of the West Cliff Drive Tour. Download the free app with many tours of the Santa Cruz area and beyond.