With the pontoons in Port Gamble Bay leaving January 4, many are reminded of what led up to the west-half bridge replacement- the violent storm that occurred on February 13, 1979 that tore the bridge apart and sunk the west half to the bottom of the Hood Canal.
We asked the community members near the bridge what they remember during this time- where they were, what they were doing and how they remember it. We received a variety of experiences- all reminding us how vital the bridge is to so many people...
Pat Menge
Port Gamble, Washington
It is going to be a sad day for all of us who live on Port Gamble Bay when our “bridge pontoons” are gone. It was interesting to hear that DOT is finally going to move them. This portion of the bridge has become a part of our every day landscape. They, as you know, have been there since early 1980.
On February 1979, it was my family’s first year living in Port Gamble. We were in the process of building our new home. At this time, I was working at the Winslow Police Department and was in charge of keeping the traffic moving and safe for all. We had been advised of a possible large storm coming in but none of us could have guessed what we were in for.
Later that night, all heck broke loose. We clocked the winds to 99 miles an hour. At times it sounded like we were in a Boeing testing tunnel. We could do nothing about our sail boat that headed up towards the mouth of the Bay. When we were able to go out and assess the damage; all you could see was trees down all over the place. Power lines down. You would have thought we were hit by a bomb. Our first thought was to be sure everyone on our street was okay. Some of us lost any where from 3-16 feet of waterfront bank. We were out of power for over 2 weeks.
As soon as I could get to work, we heard that one section of the bridge sunk and the others were okay. It was also at that time the then Mayor of Winslow, Alice Tawresey, had asked for us to think of how people were going to be able to get to Winslow from Jefferson County to Kitsap. We had heard the ferry system was going to bring some boats in to take people back and forth. I then asked why DOT couldn’t get Kitsap Transit to put some buses to run from Lofall to Winslow and transport people back and forth. Mrs. Tawresey ran with it and made it happen. I made room for the buses to enter the terminal and leave safely. It really worked out well.
A couple of days after the storm, we noticed the bridge pontoons being towed into Port Gamble. These have become an important part of our lives. It will seem strange not looking at them every day.
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Vern Settle
Loveland, CO
"The bridge is coming apart!" my neighbor Cliff Burner yelled from his beach-front yard as my friend Rick Forrester and I were leaving my Dad's house for high school that morning. The wind was still blowing hard as we looked across the Canal to see that the west-side grated bridge deck had fallen into the Canal.
Along with my brother Neil, Rick and I jumped into my old pick-up truck and, dodging downed trees, limbs and power lines, drove down to Salsbury Point, right next to the bridge. We then watched in amazement as the now free-floating pontoon/bridge deck sections were blown to the north and sank in the middle of the Canal.
The section with the control tower on it was the last to sink. Every time I think of it, I wish that I'd had a camera with me. I have never seen any pictures of the bizarre event we witnessed that day.
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Linda Button
Port Angeles, Washington
"My friend Mary and I had recently returned from living and working in Alaska, but at different times and places. We were both in Seattle on February 12, 1979, and Mary was driving us home. But first, we hung out in Seattle and the Pike Place Market.
It was stormy but the ferries were running so we headed out. By the time we made it to the bridge the storm was howling all around us. There were some branches on the road up to the bridge but as we arrived on the east end we couldn’t believe our eyes. It was midnight and we were in the only car heading out onto the bridge. We could see waves crashing over it but since we were in our youth we only felt excitement and awe.
As we proceeded to the center of the bridge the site we saw was enough to make the staunchest of adventurers suck in their breath. The waves were crashing over the bridge and of course our car as well. The wind was intense and buffeting the car sideways. We drove slowly, sometimes stopping. But we couldn’t help but look out the window and smile and chuckle, albeit nervously, at what we saw. There was a large moon periodically showing through the clouds, clouds that were black and grey and being whipped into a frenzy. And to accentuate the ability to see all of this there were bolts of lightening flashing everywhere. The wind, the waves, the moon, the lightening and thunder....and there we were, suspended on a slab of floating concrete. I believe we loved it.
After we made it to the west side we pulled over to park so we could look back at the scene. It was absolutely stunning! We will never forget it, and it was just like Mary and I, we were in no hurry to get home. But then, we had to make it up the hill. That’s where our real worry seemed to start. There were trees, branches large and small, and whatever else the wind could deposit on the highway in front of us. We picked our way through the gauntlet, driving over, around, under and sometimes having to physically remove the debris so we could pass. The first hill at Shine was definitely the worst.
I believe it was 8 a.m. the next morning when my mother woke me to say Mary was on the phone. She was so excited, “Linda The bridge sank last night!” I proceeded to tell my parents the story. They found it to be quite exciting as they appreciated a good adventure themselves, although, not from purposely putting yourself in harms way. Of course we really had no idea what we were heading into that night. I quickly showered and ate as Mary was on her way into town to pick me up. We were headed back to the bridge to gawk like a whole lot of other people that day. My dad also went, following us in his own car. We took pictures of the missing section and reminisced, thinking we must have been one of the last few cars to cross as it finally broke up and sank around 2 a.m."
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Ron Hirschi
Marrowstone Island, Washington
"I grew up in Port Gamble during the 1950s and 60s, so was a part of the first pontoon experiences which gave all of us kids great summer entertainment.
As the bridge was being constructed, the pontoons were stored in front of town, along the north edge of our swimming beach just west of the old boathouse where people could rent boats, buy bait, and tie up while visiting the Hotel Puget.
All summer long, we swam in the cold water of Hood Canal. This was okay, but when the pontoons showed up, we thought we were in heaven. It didn't take us long to discover that the pontoons were open on top and water collected in the huge openings. When we swam out to the pontoons in the cold Canal, we could dive into these open pools, filled with water heated by the sun. It was as if somebody had towed a set of swimming pools to town, just for us kids! How fun.
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Much later, my wife, daughter, and I lived just north of Bangor. That day in 1979 when the bridge blew down, we were still being hit by strong winds in the early morning. When I went out to survey the considerable damage around and near the house, I looked up the Canal and saw a Coast Guard Cutter in the middle, about where the bridge should have been.
At first, it didn't register that the west span had disappeared, but then a neighbor came running down along the edge of the beach, shouting to me. She was actually laughing as she said this, but wanted me to see what really did look like Noah's Ark - a navy barge-like boat had torn away from its moorings at Bangor and was drifting past our house.
As we watched "Noah's Ark" sail past, we then looked more closely to the north. It was then that we both saw that where the bridge had been was only empty space.
Very soon after that first realization that it was gone, we drove up to the bridge site, dodging fallen trees and [power] lines. We were treated to the sight of a pod of killer whales swimming freely through the wide open space."
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Joyce Olson
Poulsbo, Washington
My husband was raised in Port Gamble and worked for Pope and Talbot after he got out of the Navy from 1955 to 1992 as the tug boat skipper.
The day of the storm he went out on the tug boat to the bridge because it was believed a truck driver had gone down with the bridge, but he backed his truck off the bridge on the Olympic Peninsula side. My husband saw part of the bridge go under.
We also got to see the pontoons when they were stored in Gamble Bay. We saw a lot of changes in Port Gamble while living there. Our five sons were raised there and three of them worked for the mill after getting out of school.
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Mike Eliason
Keyport, Washington
"My family lived on the Kitsap side in a house to the immediate south of the Hood Canal Bridge entrance on Highway 104. I vaguely recall the weather system leading up to the storm, but I vividly remember waking up the next morning and noticing the very large Fir tree lying on the ground in our front yard. My mother, brother, and I counted our blessings that the tree did not fall on our home.
The closure of the bridge from February 1979 through October 1982 had a significant economic impact on the Olympic and Kitsap peninsulas, but I – a mere 10-year-old at the time, thoroughly enjoyed the great reduction in thoroughfare. To this day, I have fond memories of riding my bicycle with friends a few miles on Highway 104 to the Port Gamble General Store without encountering a single motor vehicle. Those days are now long gone!
Those of us who lived through the sinking of the pontoons, witnessed the rebuilding, and benefited from the transportation corridor have a greater appreciation of the Hood Canal Bridge and its importance to our region. I thank Governor Al Rosellini for having the wisdom and the political courage to build the bridge, and I thank Governor John Spellman for rebuilding it and personally appearing at the reopening ceremony."
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Peggy L. Schafran
Port Ludlow, Washington
On the evening of February 13, 1979, the wind picked up gradually. As the night wore on, my husband and I did not go to bed, nor dare venture outside as we heard loud thuds as the tall forest trees fell in our backyard and all around us. I braced myself by sitting on a step in a doorway for hours because I thought this was the safest place to be. About 4 a.m. my husband ventured out into our carport to actually see what was happening as he believed we should leave the house for a safer place. He came in wide eyed and told me that only three of 13 trees remained standing in the backyard. They had all fallen to the left on the ground and missed our home.
He advised me to get into the car with him and we drove to an absent neighbor's double driveway not surrounded by trees and remained in the car for the rest of the night. At daylight, about 7 a.m. a neighbor saw us and stopped to discuss the dilemma and walked onward to the marina to check his boat. Most everyone in Port Ludlow worked to get debris and downed trees off the roads. The power was out for days and I couldn't report to my boss that I had no way to get to work at SWFPAC at the Bangor Base.
Little did we know how this windstorm, and now having no bridge, would change everyone's life here in Port Ludlow. My husband and I couldn't move as we had recently purchased a "shell house" and my husband had planned to complete the inside of this new home in his retirement, then we could move there and sell our present home. There was no Silverdale mall or large stores nearby so, when the roads were cleared, we drove to Olympia or Bellevue to get building supplies.
To try to get to my job at SWFPAC at SUBASE was a nightmare and comedy of errors! The first two days without a bridge, I arose at 3:30 a.m. and drove around the Canal, going through Gorst, and back up to Bangor. After finding friends here to carpool for two weeks, the Washington State Ferry System arranged for a small passenger-only boat for us to cross from So. Point to Lofall. We named this boat "The African Queen" as it was so like the one in the movie.
One whole summer, my husband drove me to South Point each work day to and from the parking lot where we boarded the boat. I made arrangements with two Lockheed employees, one to let me keep my car in his driveway en route to work, the other to let me ride the back of his motorcycle to my car so I could drive on in to work.
After about one year, the Ferry System gave us "the barge" to use. This consisted of a flat-planked surface where cars could drive on it. For passengers only, like me, we got to sit in one of two school buses with wheels removed so they didn't roll en route. The Ferry System had contracted with a private company for a small tugboat to "kick off" the barge and guide it from South Point to Lofall and return.
My life traveling to work became better when I, a Navy Civil Servant, was asked by Lockheed employees living here in Port Ludlow, to ride with them! We experienced many trying and funny times together these two and a half years trying to get to work. I felt blessed to be able to join them and share the burden and stories.
One day we waited at Lofall after work to board the barge, the tug overturned and drowned the pilot, Tommy Donaldson. Tommy had a wife and four children. One boy had serious medical problems. After learning of this, I contacted a girlfriend to help me collect money for his family. We rode all the South Point ferries all day for the next two weekends and collected over $2,000 which I sent to his wife.
My friends, all Lockheed executives, whom I rode with daily, still live here in Port Ludlow. Another friend in Port Ludlow was a PSNS employee and rode with us in a van when the winds were extreme and we were advised to leave work early and drive around the Canal. We still kid each other about all we went through to get to work in those days. The experience of not having the bridge for so long changed lives! After a Federal Civil Service career of almost 33 years, I tell people I've ridden almost everything but a burro to get to work!
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Written by Grace Eubanks
Printed in EX-PRESS by WSDOT December 1997
"Now with 12 years as Bridge Supervisor and 20 years of department service, George Tyner was working as a Bridge Technician on February 13, 1979, when the combined fury of wind and surf overpowered the west half of the Hood Canal Bridge.
With the landmark storm pounding the bridge since the day before, Tyner was called to work somewhat early by foreman Chuck Myers and arrived at the bridge before 3 a.m. He had to park his truck on the west section, rather than in his usual east-end spot, because the draw span already had been opened to relieve pressure on the structure.
Myers and Tyner stood watch over the bridge for a couple more hours- and kept an eye on the bank of dials that included the wind indicator. At one point, they watched the needle "go right off the scale" past the top mark as the wind gusted to 120 m.p.h.
About 6 a.m., the tower was listing. They also discovered that a log had shattered a window in the lower story of the tower and the lower room was four feet deep with water.
The pontoons were bucking up and down on the high waves and, and the same time, swiveling horizontally because of the fierce wind.
'It looked like a snake on the water,' Tyner said.
At 6:45, the two WSDOT watch-guards decided it was time to evacuate. They had repeatedly tried to convince the only other person on the bridge, a trucker with a large rig, to leave. Fortunately, they convinced him.
The three of them got to solid ground only moments before the bridge broke at the joint between two pontoons and the west end quickly sank 340 feet to the bottom of the canal."
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Donna King
Port Ludlow, Washington
"On that morning in 1979 after the winds had calmed we went out to assess the damage, finding very little on our property we decided to go for a drive around Port Ludlow. While touring the damaged area we listed to the radio. “The Hood Canal Bridge Sank!” we heard them announce. We immediately made our way to the bridge. There is lay what was left of it, looking like a carcass stripped of its meat. Across the water the other half floated ominously.
The reality of how disconnected we were was beginning to sink in, literally. We did a lot of our shopping in Bremerton. Our dentist was there also. The road around the Canal became our only connected with the other side. Traveling with a barf bag become a necessity as the twist and turns always made one or more of us car sick.
We felt great relief when they announced that a ferry was coming to South Point. It turned out to be a small walk on ferry, we nick-named it the “African Queen.” Despite its size it did make life easier, especially after parking a car on the Kitsap side near the ferry dock. One trip shortly before Father’s Day proved memorable. Mom, her friend, and a couple of my younger siblings made a trip to Bremerton for groceries and Father’s Day gifts. It wasn’t until they arrived back at the ferry that they realized they had bought more than they could carry. Including a set of horse shoes complete with metal poles. Each child was given as many horse shoes as they could carry. A passerby seeing their struggle offered to help.
Another time Mom was taking a group of ladies to a church meeting in Bremerton and proudly announced after being offered a ride “no thanks, I have a car parked over there.” A great solution if you remembered to bring your keys. After eating a bit of crow, she got a ride for herself and the others.
The walk-on ferry was replaced with a barge pulled by a tug boat. After an accident, that was replaced with a small car ferry. That made life almost easy. However arranging your schedule around a ferry schedule could get tricky. Mom learned this one night while hurrying back to catch the last ferry in a borrowed pick-up truck. The wind caught the hood and ripped it free of the truck. Not wanting to leave the hood, she pulled over and hoisted it by herself into the back of the truck. Of course the delay caused her to miss the 12:30 a.m. ferry and left her stranded at Lofall until the 5:30 a.m. ferry.
The new bridge was a welcome sight in 1982. Along with it a new appreciation for the inconvenience of it’s being closed during high winds. What’s a few hours compared to three years?"
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Andrea Rice
Port Ludlow, Washington
"We have lived here in Kitsap and Jefferson Counties all our life. We were there and were one of the first people to cross the Hood Canal Bridge when it opened up. My husband, Rick Rice, was born and raised in Port Gamble. He worked on the docks there as a young boy and also worked at the Port Gamble Garage as a teenager. His Dad James Rice worked at the Port Gamble Mill for 43 years. A lot of history in this family. So much pride to have lived in this old mill town.
We purchased five acres in Jefferson County, 1 1/2 miles from the Hood Canal Bridge, in 1978. Almost one year to the date of when the Hood Canal Bridge went down. We had been working on our property for a year, almost every weekend.
When the big storm hit and the west half of the bridge sank we were so shocked and in disbelief. When the bridge was disabled for so long we decided to try to get over to our property. The first and last ride we took on this ol tub of a ferry was so scary. It was like a cork bobbing back and forth. We thought we were going to slide right into the canal. You see there weren't any sides to this cork. Needless to say that cork tub didn't last very long. Soon after a real ferry was used.
We decided to drive around the Canal whenever we wanted to camp on our property. It took us 2 1/2 hours one way. So because of the long distance we didn't get to visit our property too often. In 1985 we designed and built our own 3200 square ft home. We moved in 1988 and have lived there ever since.
Our entire family have always had high respect for the Hood Canal water ways. We have spent our entire life fishing the waters and digging clams, picking oysters, shrimping and crabbing. My husband taught our two sons, now 32 and 34, to always respect our most natural resource so that the water ways will be there for the next generation."
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Mark Soholt
"I was working for a contractor replacing some rebar and concrete on the old east section pontoons. It was cold and wet with the wind that brought the rain sideways from one direction one day and the other direction the next day. If you could get some work on a ladder or scaffold up close to the deck working from underneath the conditions were considerably better.
To hold forms for the epoxy-concrete tight to the underside of the deck, holes were drilled into the deck from the underside and expanding bolts were used to hold the hermetically sealed forms tight to the deck. I normally used a short 6" by 1/2 inch roto-hammer drill bit and would drill about 4" into the deck. This allowed me to get the drill to my shoulder and use my legs rather than my arms to press the drill into the deck.
I stopped half-way through drilling a hole for a lunch break, (it could take up to 10 minutes to drill a hole depending on re-bar etc.) Upon returning someone had "borrowed" my drill bit. I knew I didn't have much farther to drill so I put a 2 foot long drill bit into the drill motor. It was a strain to hold the darn thing into the deck from underneath.
Amazingly I had drilled all the way through the deck and with the force I was holding the drill motor the bit went all the way home. I can still picture in my mind the poor motorist that I heard slamming on the brakes seeing at least 16 inches and probably a little more of that flailing spinning drill bit emerging out of the deck right in front of his tires. I quickly pulled the drill out of the hole thankful no one had hit it and no ugly sounds of vehicle contact were heard. Of course a deluge of water came down the hole to reprimand me even more. There are other stories to tell but this one sticks with me best."
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David Black
Poulsbo, Washington
Retired Manager of Marine Operation for Washington State Ferries
“Our family was on vacation on Maui and only learned about the damage when a friend (half owner of Kingston Lumber) called from down the beach and told us about what happened. He was most interested in the event as Kingston Lumber also owned a retail lumber yard in Port Townsend.
Once back at work the focus on creating a [ferry] service plan was well underway with the first efforts slanted towards establishing a passenger-only service from the old ferry property at Lofall to Southpoint on the west side. In addition to the normal day-to-day ferry system operations the experiences were expanded to devote attention to solutions for moving vehicles to and from the Olympic Peninsula. One quick fix was to shift the “Walla Walla” [ferry] to a new route: Edmonds to Port Townsend. This hardly put a dent into the number of folks used to crossing the bridge but it did create a new "poster child" for downtown traffic congestion on the main street of Port Townsend.
Work with the CG established a blue print for "crude but effective" canal crossing. This was the “Beach Girl”; a self-propelled barge built for the exclusive use of moving commercial vehicles back and forth. East side was off of the boat ramp at Salisbury Park across to Shine on the boat launch there. The “Beach Girl” was a series of pontoons bolted together with four diesel engines mounted from side to side each driving a vertical thruster...just like an electric egg beater. A control tower sat on one side of the vessel with all of the levers being spread on a dash board. There was one ramp for raising and lowering at each barge end. The thruster displays were often out of whack so the operators were never certain in which direction the flow was going.
One time when I was aboard the engineer laid on his stomach at the vessel edge and watched for flow to come out from beneath the barge and when spotted he would signal the tower with the direction. While all of this was taking place the “Beach Girl” was making bigger and bigger circles coming close to the beach, through the crab pot buoys out along Whiskey Spit and into the Canal. It was on one of these great circle routes that the Captain shut down and let the Foss Tug which was in the area heading to the Port Gamble Mill come to our rescue.
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The most challenging part of Canal Crossings was in the selection process for what could be done [for a couple years]. The proposal was for a contracted service expected to operate for a couple of years but was stopped in two and one-half months after an accident. Ferry vessels were taken from other routes and shuttled to the canal. This is the chapter that is the genesis of my appreciating the hard work of the [ferry] system employees as they were forced to make a system work that was uphill every step of the way.”
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All stories were posted with permission. If you have a story or picture you would like to share, please contact Theresa Gren at (253) 305-6428.