1st Northwest Passage sailor honored, but sloop mistreated
Just north of San Francisco’s Beach Chalet, across the Great Highway from Ocean Beach, stands a 10- foot- tall granite pillar with a bronze plate depicting the great Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen, looking to the northwest.
That direction is appropriate, for in 1905, Amundsen became the first man to sail through the Northwest Passage, the fabled sea route connecting the Atlantic and Pacific.
The 1930 Amundsen memorial is also a sad reminder of one of the most evocative objects ever to be displayed in San Francisco: the sloop Gjoa. For 63 years, the small craft that carried Amundsen and his crew on their historic journey rested just east and north of the memorial on the western edge of Golden Gate Park, its prow facing the Pacific.
It’s oddly fitting that the first ship to make it through the Northwest Passage should end up in San Francisco. The first Europeans to explore the California coast, and whose
voyages eventually led to the discovery of San Francisco Bay, were searching for that legendary waterway, known as the Strait of Anian.
When Juan Cabrillo landed his ship in 1542 near what is now San Diego, he was searching for the Strait of Anian. So was Sir Francis Drake when he sailed into Drake’s Bay in 1579.
The real passage
The Strait of Anian was eventually recognized to be a myth, but the real Northwest Passage, a daunting route through the Canadian Arctic Archipelago, still beckoned. Many explorers tried to conquer it, but all failed — most famously the expedition of British explorer Sir John Franklin, which perished with all hands in 1847.
From boyhood, Amundsen had dreamed of being the first man to sail through the Northwest Passage. In 1903, a seasoned explorer, he was ready to make the attempt.
He bought a 70- foot former herring sloop built in 1872 named the Gjoa and hired a crew of seven men. The frequently broke explorer managed to scrape together the expedition’s $ 30,000 cost himself.
Such a small craft and crew seemed inadequate for the task that lay ahead, but Amundsen knew what he was doing. The Gjoa may have been small, but it was tough — and, crucially, had a shallow draft. Those qualities would prove essential on the voyage ahead.
On the night of June 16, 1903, Amundsen learned that one of his creditors was coming down to the wharf. He hurriedly cut the cable and the Gjoa, loaded like a moving van with provisions for four years, slipped out of Oslo ( then Christiania) harbor. It was an inglorious beginning to one of the great voyages of exploration of all time.
Endless hardship
For months, the Gjoa sailed through the vast, silent waterways of the frozen north. The crew battled exhaustion, illness and temperatures as low as 59 below. One of Amundsen’s best men died of a lung infection.
When his crew’s spirits dropped, their wiry captain told them, “Rely on me. Best of all, rely on the Gjoa. I understand her and she understands me.”
He and his crew spent two winters in a harbor on Canada’s King William Island, in what is today called Gjoa Haven, Nunavut. While there, Amundsen charted the location of the north magnetic pole for the first time.
In the summer of 1905, Amundsen took the Gjoa out of harbor and sailed west through fog and drift ice, into waters never explored by man, searching for the Pacific.
At one point, the Gjoa had only 1 inch of water under its keel: A larger ship with a deeper draft would not have made it through.
Amundsen was exhausted. He had scarcely eaten for days and slept fitfully in his 6- foot- by- 9foot cabin. He was 33 but looked 63.
‘ Sail ahead!’
On Aug 25, Amundsen heard a lookout shout, “Sail! Sail ahead!”
Amundsen knew instantly what it meant. They had spotted a whaler from the Pacific. They were in open water. They had done what no one had done before.
In his diary Amundsen wrote, “The Northwest Passage was done. My boyhood dream was accomplished. A strange feeling welled up in my throat; I was somewhat overstrained and worn, but I felt tears well in my eyes. ‘ Vessel in sight. Vessel in sight!’ ”
Amundsen journeyed 500 miles by dog sled to Eagle City, Alaska, where he electrified the world by radioing that he had conquered the Northwest Passage. The Gjoa reached Nome in 1906.
Amundsen traveled from Nome to San Francisco by train. The Gjoa made the last leg entirely by sail, its engine having been damaged.
Welcome to S. F.
On Oct. 19, 1906, the Gjoa sailed through the Golden Gate. San Francisco was still in ruins from the earthquake and fire, but the battered city gave Amundsen — who had arrived two weeks earlier — and his crew members a hero’s welcome.
The Chronicle reported, “The scene was one that will be long remembered by those who witnessed it. Dozens of yachts, gasoline boats and rowboats circled about the ice- scarred and unlovely little vessel, their crews firing salutes and cheering. A large flotilla escorted her to her berth at Mission bulkhead.”
As the “brave little craft” pulled into its berth, bands struck up the song “Sons of Norway.” The ship was greeted by the city’s acting mayor and other dignitaries and thousands of citizens, including many from San Francisco’s Norwegian community.
Amundsen was hailed as a true heir of the Vikings, and his journey “one of the most wonderful voyages recorded in history.”
Beset by vandals
After being anchored at Mare Island for three years, the Gjoa was given to San Francisco in 1909 and beached near the Great Highway in Golden Gate Park. Almost immediately, souvenir- seeking crowds began to vandalize it. Less than three weeks after it was moved to the park, The Chronicle ran a story titled, “Get souvenirs from the Gjoa: Crowds attack Amundsen’s ship with knives.” The paper reported that the sloop was covered in graffiti and had a big hole in its prow.
In 1940, efforts were made to restore the dilapidated ship, but to little avail. During the 1960s, hippies discovered the Gjoa. According to Dagfinn Kvale, pastor of San Francisco’s Norwegian Seaman’s Church, “The hippies had a special sense of appreciation for the Gjoa. They liked to climb the rig and found out that the vessel was an ideal place for overnighting. ... One hippie told us what a great pleasure it was to touch the ship’s frames, experiencing the voyage through the Northwest Passage on an LSD trip.”
In 1969, Norway expressed concern and outrage that the Gjoa was being “damaged by wind, sand and hippies,” and a movement began to send the Gjoa home. Park officials protested that the reports were “alarmist,” but to no avail.
In 1972, the centenary of Amundsen’s birth, the Gjoa was returned to its native land. Fully restored, it now floats in a museum in Oslo. San Franciscans are left with only the Amundsen memorial — and memories of the indomitable little ship that once stood near Ocean Beach.