PAGE 8 | The Portlight | 02.05 WINTER MEMORIES
PAGE 9 | The Portlight | 02.05 GROWING UP AT PYC W hen I was young, my father resigned his position with the Studebaker Corporation because they wanted to transfer him to another part of the country. He wanted to stay in the Northwest. Then the Wall Street crash of ’29 occurred, and he was out of a job. He was Vice-Commodore of <strong>Portland</strong> <strong>Yacht</strong> <strong>Club</strong> at the time, and the board was considering hiring an on-site manager. They offered him the job, at least for the summer… he stayed for 15 years! His title was Port Captain, so he became known as “Cap.” We moved into quarters above the ballroom in the old club house. When the new club house was built, the old one was sold, and moved to a location on Interstate Avenue. The only transportation available in those days, other than the auto, was the streetcar. It came down Union Avenue (now Martin Luther King, Jr., Blvd) to Columbia Blvd. At that point, it took off on a trestle to Faloma Street and then across the slough to Hayden Island, where it linked up with the Interstate Bridge and continued on into Vancouver. To this day, the end of the old trestle pilings and rocks has a green marker that you pass as you travel down the slough toward the I-5 bridge. One winter the river froze over from bank to bank. It was rumored that a car was driven across and a sternwheeler was trapped in the ice for a while. One spring the river came up to within a few inches of the ballroom floor. The river was much higher during the flood of 1948, when the water was 4-5 feet deep over the floor, but it was still kind of scary living there at the time. In those years, the club had quite a few members who owned canoes, small sailboats and runabouts such as Chris-Craft, Dodge, etc. They were dry stored in a large floating building. Some were light enough to be picked up and carried to storage racks. Others entered a slip and were picked up by a hoist that traveled on an overhead I-beam, pushed into the house, and lowered onto a cradle. Since the cradles had casters on them, they could be pushed around into their storage spaces. Mother (Mauni) cooked dinner for the Board of Directors before their monthly meetings for a period of time. She also was asked to take over the job of bookkeeper. It was a position she enjoyed and continued doing for 40 plus years. Many of you may not know that PYC’s Mauni Elliott sailboat races are named after my mother. Activity on the river was pretty slow until the first Saturday in May (Opening Day,) just as it is now. Opening Day was an all day affair with flag raising ceremonies, the boat parade, sailboat races, an afternoon tea, and a formal dance. Of course, we were the only club around in those days. There were cruises to Willow Bar (the present site of our Outstation) and to the Lewis River where a farmer would bring fresh strawberries, cream, and the Sunday papers down to the boats that were tied to the bank. The big summer cruise was the Rooster Rock Barbeque. We would put up large tents for serving food, awarding prizes, and providing shade for the pop, ice cream, and beer. The drinks and ice cream were buried in the sand with lots of ice and wet burlap over the top. There were swimming races, dinghy races, sack and three-legged races. Also, a nail driving contest, soft ball throw, and many other events. Cap would hit up all the local merchants for donations to be awarded as prizes. But the best thing about the cruise was the barbeque. We took an old southern black gentleman named George Washington Jackson with us to the park. On Saturday, with some help from the kids, he would get his pit dug. He’d get up very early Sunday morning and start his fires. Then in the afternoon we would get wonderful pork ribs, beef ribs, and lamb all mopped with his “secret sauce.” It was wonderful, and everyone would go home with a full tummy and probably a sunburn. Though not an official cruise, quite a few members took their vacation time at the end of August and first part of September to cruise to Ilwaco. You could go fishing, sightseeing or hiking, and of course, there were the great raised glazed doughnuts at the local bakery. One of our members loved the kids, and he would organize us to hike to the beach and collect firewood. Then that night everyone would go to the beach for a huge bonfire and wiener roast. After a week or so, we’d cruise to Astoria for their annual Regatta, which was bigger than it is now. All sorts of races were held—fish boat, sailboat, speedboat, etc. Usually a big name band came to town and added to the festivities. Everybody usually went home after Labor Day. Sailing and sailboat racing were gaining in popularity on the Columbia. At one time or other we had organized classes of 16’ Snipes, 18’ Flatties, and 28’ Crods. Also, there were usually a couple of handicap classes. There were some odd things done in those days, such as starting or finishing a race at the gas dock, or sailing through the cut between Hayden and Tomahawk Island, which is now filled in. There was a large gilnetter fleet in those days, and they mostly lived on the Oregon shore, downriver from PYC. Occasionally, a gilnetter would pick up a race buoy in his net, although we tried to set them as far inshore as possible. Cap would get in the work boat and go down to their place and with the “possible” help of a bottle of bourbon, barter with the gilnetter to get the buoys back! December 7, 1941 brought about a lot of changes. Many members joined the U.S. Coast Guard Auxiliary. They painted their boats “Battleship Grey” and put large white CGA numbers on the bows. Once or twice a week, we would patrol various facilities along the river from sundown to sunup. Of course, we got to watch them building the Vancouver Shipyards and then the ships. As I recall, one of the first ships launched ran aground on the tip of Tomahawk Island… Glenn Elliott *Editor’s note: Glenn has been a member of PYC since 1939. Glenn and Lois were Commodore and First Lady in 1980.