Surfmen vs. Keeper: Confrontation at Point Reyes Life-Saving Station
by Dewey Livingston
In response to the large number of shipwrecks at Point Reyes in Marin County, and the limitations of staffing & infrastructure at the lighthouse, the U. S. Life-Saving Service established a manned station on Ten-Mile Beach at Point Reyes that opened in 1890. The civilians enlisted to perform ocean rescues were known as surfmen & many of them were Scandinavian. During the first four years of operation, the station lost four surfmen to accidents and one to disease. This article, originally written for the Coast Guard history journal Wreck & Rescue in 1996, details the harsh conditions at the troubled U. S. Life-Saving station.
In June of 1891 the Superintendent of the 12th U. S. Life-Saving Service District, Thomas J. Blakeney, wrote to General Superintendent Sumner Kimball in Washington regarding the curious and disturbing mass resignations at the new Point Reyes Life-Saving Station in California. He enclosed letters from the keeper and the statements of three surfmen with grievances against the keeper. The letters, recently obtained from the National Archives, provide a fascinating insight into the lives of surfmen at a troubled life-saving station in the late 19th century.
Point Reyes was an isolated location for all who lived there. While only about 40 miles north of San Francisco, travel by land and sea was difficult with rugged surf conditions and terrible roads. Scattered dairy ranches dotting the rugged coastal hills provided fresh butter by schooner to the city, and a lighthouse stood at the far western promontory. It was windy, foggy, cold, and-most of all-lonely.
The station at Point Reyes had been constructed on a long stretch of wild Pacific beach in 1889 but did not operate until the following year because of delays in assigning a keeper. District Superintendent Blakeney finally nominated William L. Loch to take the position and Loch moved with his wife into the empty keeper’s quarters in April of 1890. They spent three months cleaning, planting a garden, and readying the station for active use.
Loch’s inaugural crew of seven arrived in July; three left immediately upon seeing the place. Perhaps it was the location or weather, or perhaps it was Loch’s handwritten addition to the official printed Articles of Engagement For Surfmen, “…that there may be withheld from each of us the sum of ten dollars per month…until the end of the term of this enlistment, and that no part of the amount so withheld shall then be paid to us unless the keeper shall be able to certify that we have remained at the station and performed all the duties required of us….” With a total pay of $50 per month, Loch was withholding 20% of the surfmen’s paychecks, to be repaid at his own whim.
With a replenished crew by mid-July, Loch’s troubles were only beginning. By October, all seven surfmen had been replaced as a result of their complaints about treatment at the station. Charles Green charged that Loch had tried to kill one of the surfmen, and complained in writing that “I have never suffered so much abuse from any man….” His fellow surfmen attested to the fact that “we found the treatment of Captain [Keeper] Loch unbearable.”
Loch defended his actions, blaming the “sea lawyers” among the crew, stating that “the whole crew’s motive was to make trouble in order that they would get their discharge, as they often complained to me that the place was lonesome and they also disliked to patrol the beach.” Loch implied that at least one of them was afraid of the surf at Point Reyes and unwilling to admit his cowardice.
The trouble continued. The surfmen were appalled at the treatment of fellow lifesavers who had died in an incident when a huge wave killed two surfmen as they dragged their surfboat up on the beach. Graves of these dead surfmen in the dunes behind the station remained disrespectfully unmarked and unfenced. According to the first to resign in 1891, Surfman William Andkjer, Loch considered that “[the dead surfman’s] people would not assist and therefore he thought he would not do so himself.”
Later Loch found Andkjer and Jonas Robinson fighting, after which Andkjer deserted to the nearest town and, according to Loch, “carried on in a most disgraceful and drunken manner.” Days later Andkjer returned and begged for reinstatement, which was denied. He then wrote to District Superintendent Blakeney how Loch “refused to let me have my clothing, giving as his reason that I was indebted $5 [for a] mess bill, and ordered me off the premises. I was obliged to borrow money to reach the city, and am yet without my clothes or means to get others.”
Keeper Loch then reacted to Andkjer’s written complaint by forcing his surfmen to sign a paper of faithfulness, at which another surfman left in disgust. The already rebellious crew became more and ore on edge until three, Surfmen Bailey, Samuels, and Robinson, left together. Each had their own story.
Surfman Alfred T. R. Bailey
That spring Loch mysteriously advanced Bailey to Surfman №1, bypassing others more deserving of the rank. Uncomfortable with this, Bailey protested. He was then asked by the keeper to tattle on his fellow surfmen. “He called me and said, ‘Alfred, I want you now that you are №1 to let me know all the conversation that transpires during the day so as I can think it over in the evenings and see if any trouble was likely to come out of such conversations.’ I said, ‘Captain Loch, I cannot do anything so unmanly as that to eat, sleep and converse with my mates and then repeat to you their conversation….’”
After that Loch found fault with all that Bailey did, then abruptly demoted him back to №6 surfman. “[Loch] was consistently finding fault, abusing and making use of bad language and throwing his hands about in a very threatening manner and acting like a maniac making my life a complete torture.” Loch threatened prison if anyone left, but Bailey warned that “‘I shall go to the city and see Major Blakeney, I feel sure that he is in total ignorance of the brutal and harsh way you’re treating your men.’ Loch gave a fiendish laugh and said, ‘Major Blakeney will not listen to you, if he did he would spit it all out again.’”
Surfman Samuel R. Samuels
Loch called Samuels “useless” and didn’t like that he was a card-carrying member of the Marine Firemen’s Union. Samuels charged that Loch extorted money from the crew, and that Loch shot at him during the night beach patrol. The act that made Samuels leave the station was the threat of violence by Loch: “The man had murder in his eyes.”
Samuels wrote later to Blakeney, saying “you may feel sure that it was no trivial matter that caused me to leave May 26th, for my term would have expired June 30th…. Captain Loch seemed to have a mania for always creating trouble with his crew.” Samuels and the others noted how, after a particularly ugly incident, Loch apologized, saying, “May God strike me dead right here, boys, if I treat you harshly any more.”
Surfman Jonas Robinson
Robinson, the №2 surfman, claimed that because he was an “application man” he was disliked by Loch. One day he was suddenly disrated to №7 for leaving he boathouse doors open; after this, while sweeping “[Loch] dogged me around and was tantalizing me I could do nothing right even hold a broom.” After Loch snatched the broom away, Robinson left, saying, “Let me get away from this detestable place.”
Keeper Loch wouldn’t allow Robinson to take his clothes. Samuels rose to Robinson’s defense, accusing Loch of “haul[ing] a man around the house like a dog.” At this point Loch apologized asked Robinson to stay on as №2, but, according to Robinson, “he has been going around like a cat watching a mouse.” Soon after, Robinson, Bailey and Samuels left, walking more than 18 miles to the depot. Robinson ended his testimony saying, “in conclusion I must say it is the most cat & dog place I ever was in.”
A week later Alfred Bailey, in a plea for past wages, told District Superintendent Blakeney “I am thoroughly respectable and always bore a good character, I liked the service very much and would like to go back but not under such a man as Captain Loch of Point Reyes; he does not know how to treat a man….”
Two weeks after the testimony of Surfmen Robinson, Samuels and Bailey was given, Keeper Loch replied to the charges, “…I unhesitatingly pronounce them a prearranged and various pack of vexing fabrications combined and framed by these men with an evil motive particularly designed to throw reflection upon me…they have resorted to this malicious method of making false charges in view that they will be countenanced and these misrepresentations will enable them to get their pay from the department, which is the sole object aimed at.”
Of the May 26 rebellion, Loch related how Samuels stormed off saying, “To hell with work, I am off to San Francisco” and tried to get the others to desert. Bailey joined the rebellion, then Robinson left his post at the tower stating, “by God I am off too as we are all Englishmen and will stand by each other.”
Loch obviously thought poorly of his crews. “My experience of every man that has been engaged at this station is that they come only for a make shift and they are entirely without money during the year that this station has been manned. I have had to provide them with groceries and provisions as they had no money and it was impossible to get them credit. After they are here a month or so it is a daily occurrence to hear them making unnecessary comments about the loneliness of the place, hard beach to patrol, too far from town, no liquors allowed at the station and other obstacles that does not meet their approbation which are too contemptible to mention…. Then they get exceedingly careless and try to slight their duties if an opportunity offers.”
“I admit that I exact of every man to perform his duties in a satisfactory manner as I consider that everything appertaining to a life saving station must be kept in first class condition, I always show my men a good example….” Loch provided examples of not being repaid for groceries, of his men bragging about slighting their duties, of carelessness with loose powder, of one man leaving a lit pipe in his drawer, of sand in the patrol clock and fear on beach patrol. “I must state that I have had a great deal of annoyance at this station with shiftless men who come here to make a few dollars and then flit.” Loch rested his case. It was now in the hands of his friend and superior, Thomas Blakeney.
District Superintendent Blakeney then asked the U. S. Life-Saving Service’s top administrator, General Superintendent Sumner Kimball’s help in making a decision. Directing praise towards Keeper Loch, Blakeney recommended that the surfmen be considered deserters and be treated accordingly. “I have no question of the substantial truthfulness of the statements made by the keeper, and that the men became uneasy and dissatisfied because of the isolated location of the station.”
Evidently, no action was taken for some time. By spring of 1892 the men had not been paid or replied to, so they each wrote pleading for their back pay and their honor; they surmised that Blakeney had not forwarded their letters to Kimball. Not until September, well over a year after the events, Kimball decided “after careful consideration” to give them their pay, although less the 20% noted in Loch’s handwritten addendum to the Articles of Engagement.
Was Keeper Loch the monster portrayed in the letters from the surfmen, or were the men conspiring to get out of duty at the station? Evidence presented in the archives may produce a verdict against Loch, alleged to be an unstable and violent man, who was accountable to no one by benefit of the stations’ isolation. The story may ring true for other life-saving stations in the country. Although there are usually bad apples in any kind of group, Loch’s record for keeping a proud crew was dismal. It should be noted that after Loch’s departure the chaos ceased, no other surfmen died during the Life-Saving Service years, and under subsequent keepers Point Reyes Life-Saving Station built one of the most admirable and courageous records of sea rescues in the nation.
Originally published at https://annetkent.kontribune.com.
