At the "Graveyard of the Pacific"

Rain, out of barrels, coming down diagonally today thanks to winds having picked up. We left our motel in Seaside - which we had to find on short notice after our friends in Astoria, whith whom we intended to stay, got tested positive for COVID recently - towards Astoria. 

We checked out downtown first, to see what's changed, then headed on to the Columbia River Maritime Museum, which was, fortunately, open on a Monday. We talked our way into it without having made previous arrangements, and, enjoyed the great exhibitions, ​an extensive collection of seafaring vessels, maritime artifacts, and fine art. It deals with the history of the Columbia River. Especially interesting: the story of the legendary Columbia River Bar, one of the most dangerous passages in the world, therefore called " Graveyard of the Pacific", about the Coast Guard and about the fishing and salmon canning industry in town.

Here, where the Columbia River enters the Pacific Ocean it is not gently flowing out to form a delta, which happens when most rivers meet large bodies of water, but it's fierce and wild.  The mouth of the Columbia and the near-shore areas to the north and south are the graveyard of more than 200 shipwrecks. Some, like the Peter Iredale, from 1906, are visible to this day. 

Since the so-called Columbia River Bar is the entrance to a major commercial waterway with nine ports alone along the Columbia River the bar pilots, established in 1846, play an important role and provide the service of local pilots, boarding the huge cargo ships and maneuvering them safely. 

 

Astoria, St. Helens, and Portland, are deep water ports. Grain farmers in Idaho, Montana, Oregon and Washington use Snake River ports to get their wheat to ports near the mouth of the Columbia River. From there, it is loaded on ocean-going ships. Inbound shipments mostly consist of automobiles, petroleum products, steel, containerized freight, outbound shipments besides agricultural products are timber and mineral products.

The National Motor Lifeboat School was established in 1968 at Station Cape Disappointment, in Ilwaco, Wash., at the mouth of the Columbia River, as the only school for rough weather surf rescue operations in the country. The Coast Guard's (photo above) important role and some of their spectacular rescues is another interesting topic in the museum. 

Also, the salmon canning industry was once big in Astoria. First barrels of salted Chinook Salmon were sent to Hawaii and NY, but  this cargo was likely to spoil and therefore in 1809 French scientists developed a method to preserve food for Napoleon’s soldiers. The first salmon cannery on the Columbia River was opened in 1866 and from then on the business grew. 

 

The building of the old Bumble Bee cannery in Astoria still gives a good idea about the operation of such a fish processing site. It's on Pier 39 and it's a "living history museum", with many old relicts and the atmosphere as if it would just have been left short time ago. In 1899 seven salmon canners had formed an association which grew and became the Bumble Bee Seafoods brand. This museum is sort of a hidden gem, free, and good thing is, that on the same pier the cozy Coffee Girl café (photo further below) offers coffee with the ocean in view.

Back to Seaside, quick stop at the outlet mall there, then on to the Seaside Promenade, "The Prom", a boardwalk along the ocean. The rain hadn't stopped for a single minute all day, to the contrary! On the Turnaround there is a statue for Lewis & Clark and their famous journey across the country, ending in Seaside. 

"Beach Books" and a fantastic Antiques Store (pic below), specialized in model/toy cars, in downtown compensated a bit for not being able to do much outside. The U.S. still has plenty of independent little bookstores - big difference to Germany! 

 

Same for craftbreweries: Even the little town of Seaside had one, Seaside Brewing Company, in a big brick building, the original city hall and city jail. We had clam chowder and a beer there before we called it a day and peeled off our wet coats and shoes.