By Annie Sutter and Larry Clinton, Sausalito Historical Society
Last week we ran excerpts from Annie Sutter’s account of the glory days of the dry docks which appeared suddenly in Richardson’s Bay in 1966. They were a party destination and an alternative lifestyle community, but by the time Annie filed her report in 1991, those days were past. Here are more lightly edited excerpts from Annie’s article:
Once measuring 125’x 90' x 51’ high, the dry docks have been eaten away by fire, decimated by demolition and scrapping contractors, attacked by chainsaws, punctured by gunshots, worn by the comings and goings of the community who called them home, and settled in the mud by the 1989 earthquake so badly that the decks are now awash at high tide. But there they are still resting on the offshore mud. Whether a “county wart," "hulking eyesores,” or a “symbol of nose-thumbing nonconformity” depends on how you look at it. And what you know about it depends on who you talk to.
PHOTO FROM SAUL ROUDA
Rumors of arson followed the 1975 inferno
In April 1970 a swarm of drug agents, police, a county health inspector and a Fish and Game warden converged on the docks. The word about the raid leaked out, and if there were any covert activities, they had ceased by the time the flotilla boarded. In June a powerboat rammed into the docks in the night, the owner sued the County on grounds that the docks were not properly lit and were hazards to navigation; flashing lights were installed, and then they were stolen.
The first serious drydock fire was in 1970, and by then, the "hill” and the "waterfront” had squared off, attitudes noted in an IJ article: “...an entire wall erupted in flames. Sausalito hill dwellers rushed down to the waterfront jumping with excitement to watch them expire like a torch. A San Francisco fireboat spotted the glow and gave houseboaters their turn to jump for joy by extinguishing the blaze.”
County supervisors and council members proposed and counter proposed plans to demolish the ruined hulks. One contractor took it on for $2 thinking he could sell the salvage, but he soon disappeared because his tools and materials disappeared.
Another stumbling block to progress appeared in the form of Ms. Laura Ashley Roberts, who, she said, had been given the docks by her husband Chris, and that she was entitled to the salvaged wood. She took the matter to court, but the judge ruled against Ms. Roberts and the salvors went back to work. However, the drydocks resisted with the tenacity of a hulking elephant and the tactics of the waterfront guerillas reached new heights of creativity and effectiveness. Small equipment disappeared. Cranes were sabotaged. Value of the salvaged wood or not, it was a money loser.
Help arrived in the form of yet another fire. On June 25, 1975, “the huge structure went up like a Roman Candle in the middle of the Bay; flames shot 20 or 30 feet into the air and left only a charred hulk on the water.” Yet, there was still plenty of space for the liveaboards to move back.
Probably the last proposed use for the drydocks surfaced about 1981, offered by Michael Haas, “The Shaman of Rainbow Bay.” His concept was for a "Lunar Village” community inhabited by the refugees of the houseboat wars. It would be a completely self-sufficient biosphere growing all food necessary for its inhabitants and harvesting all its energy needs from nature.
All to no avail. By 1991, the drydocks were the property of the County of Marin, acquired on the basis of abandonment. Funding was sought to remove them and eventually Supervisor Bob Roumiguiere found it at the Department of Housing and Urban Development. The remaining residents were moved off, and removal was completed in November of 1994.
More of the story of the dry docks can be found in the short film Soul of Sausalito by Saul Rouda, which can be viewed on Vimeo at https://vimeo.com/659508023.