The establishment of the U.S. Coast Guard in the states of Washington and Oregon is tied to the increase in maritime trade during the western expansion of America. Great Britain and Spain controlled the area encompassing the present day Pacific Northwest states prior to 1846. Spain eventually gave up her claim and later, due to pressure from the United States, Great Britain also ceded her land in the region. When the Oregon Territory was created, in 1849, the region was thinly populated. For example, there were approximately 304 Americans living north of the Columbia River. Then gold was discovered in California and the resulting large wave of emigrants caused a demand for lumber to build new homes and in mining operations. Large stands of timber growing almost to water’s edge made the Pacific Northwest a logical location to obtain and ship the needed raw material. Then as some gold seekers became disillusioned they began to drift northward to see if a change could improve their lot. Many of these people settled near water and the sea became an important communication link for the small settlements. For instance, in 1853, when the Washington Territory was formed, there were 3,965 inhabitants, about half of whom lived around Puget Sound. Thus, by the 1850s the Pacific Northwest had a brisk seagoing trade.
With the establishment of a new territory and a growing maritime business, there also developed a need for the government to collect customs revenue. The first customs activities were centered at Astoria, Oregon, and then, in 1851, the Puget Sound Collection District was established in Olympia, Washington. The office was moved two years later to Port Townsend, Washington, then the largest port on the Sound. The Collector of Customs not only took in revenue, he documented vessels, administered marine hospitals, supervised lighthouses, and even undertook a little steamboat inspection.
The major problem facing the new Collector of Customs in the region was smuggling. The large amount of coves, inlets, and rivers, plus the nearby British territory, made Puget Sound a smuggler’s dream. The loss of revenue to the United States was put forth as the main reason for sending a revenue cutter to the Pacific Northwest. In addition, it was reasoned, a cutter would help ships in distress and would make an appropriate vessel for government officials to make their rounds. The Treasury Department apparently felt these were valid arguments for it dispatched the cutter Jefferson Davis, which sailed into Puget Sound on September 28, 1854. The cutter marks the first unit of the U. S. Coast Guard to be stationed in the states of Washington and Oregon.
The Jefferson Davis was a topsail schooner, built by J. M. Hood at Sommerset, Massachusetts, in 1852-1853 for $9,000. She was 94 feet, 9 inches in length, 23 feet in breadth, 8 feet 11 1/2 inches in depth, and with a tonnage of 176 1/95. Captain William C. Pease, the youngest Captain in the U.S. Revenue Cutter Service, commanded a crew made up of three officers and at least thirty-two men. The U.S. Revenue Cutter Service, in which Pease served was founded, in 1790, by Alexander Hamilton, the first Secretary of the Treasury, to prevent smuggling and the loss of revenue to the new nation. The Service operated under the Treasury Department and is one of the predecessors of the modern day U.S. Coast Guard.
The Jefferson Davis proved her worth. Very shortly after her arrival, Captain Pease and his command were caught up in the unrest between the Native Americans and whites of the region. The cutter found herself being employed as a troop transport, a platform for gunfire missions, and at one point Pease sent Third Lieutenant J. H. Harrison ashore to help command an infantry unit in combat. In the dispute over the San Juan Islands--known as the "Pig War" — the Jefferson Davis and the cutter Joseph Lane, from Astoria, helped in delivering dispatches. In addition to these combat duties, the small cutter helped mariners in distress. In the days before the telegraph, it was almost impossible to tell when a ship was definitely lost. In the case of sailing vessels, a ship could be overdue without being in trouble. The cutter, therefore, responded to many false alarms. For example, on December 6, 1854, the Jefferson Davis proceeded to search for the schooner L. P. Foster, whose owner feared she had been driven aground on Vancouver Island. The cutter searched for many days and weathered a strong westerly gale off the west coast of Vancouver Island, only to find that the missing schooner wasn’t lost in the first place.
When the Jefferson Davis sailed into Puget Sound, she marked the first step in the federal government’s role in assisting mariners of the region. If trade were to increase in the Pacific Northwest, however, a system of aids to navigation would be needed to help prevent shipwrecks. The northwest coast of the United States is noted for its rocky headlands, large amounts of precipitation, fog, and strong winds, the traditional enemies of sailors. In 1848, there was not a single lighthouse along the 1,300 miles of rugged coastline stretching from Puget Sound to the California-Mexico border. The Act that created the Oregon Territory did call for lighthouses at Cape Disappointment and New Dungeness, both in the present state of Washington, and the establishment of buoys in the Columbia River and Astoria harbor. Before the lighthouses could be built, however, the government decided to send the Coast Survey to check the sites to see if, indeed, the locations were suitable for lights.
The Coast Survey began their work in 1849 and sent back their recommendations. The report stated there should be a total of 16 lights, including Cape Disappointment and New Dungeness. Washington, the Survey felt, should have additional structures at Smith Island, Cape Flattery, and Willapa, later Shoalwater Bay. In Oregon, a light was considered necessary at the mouth of the Umpqua River. Between the years 1852 and 1858, all of the recommended lighthouses were erected and manned by the U.S. Lighthouse Service, another predecessor agency of the U.S. Coast Guard.
All of the first lighthouses in Washington and Oregon were of a single design: a Cape Cod dwelling with the tower rising through the center of the house. The design was by Amni B. Young, an architect employed by the Treasury Department.
Many of the lighthouses along the coasts of Washington and Oregon posed unusual problems. The site chosen for the light at Cape Flattery is a good example. The structure would be situated on high rocky Tatoosh Island. The terrain, however, was not the main difficulty. The island was the traditional summer location for the Haidas and the Nootka tribes of Canada to fish and hunt whales. The white-man’s incursion onto the island was looked upon with disfavor. To add fuel to an already inflammatory situation, a smallpox epidemic broke out, killing at least 500 in the local Makaw village. The Native Americans laid the blame for the plague at the doorstep of the white man.
The lighthouse construction party arrived at Tatoosh Island with a tense situation on their hands. Before any work began on the light, the men built a blockhouse for protection against an expected attack. The feared encounter never materialized and, in December 1857, the light was placed in commission. Even after the station was completed, friction with the Native Americans continued. The combination of friction, low pay, bad weather (it rains an average of 215 days a year at the island), and lengthy tours of duty made it difficult to retain keepers. Once, all four keepers resigned at the same time. Enough men were eventually found who were willing to endure the isolation and loneliness. John M. Cowen, for example, arrived at Tatoosh on May 5, 1900, and remained there for thirty-two years and six months. To appreciate the difficulties of living on the island, Mrs. Cowen related that a "70 mile (an hour) gale wrecked chimneys and roofs, and blew Mr. Cowen end over end for 300 feet. Only by clinging to the grass and crawling on his hands and knees was he able to avoid being blown from the island into the sea...’
To the east of Tatoosh Island, within the Straits of Juan de Fuca, another early lighthouse has an unusual history. The New Dungeness Lighthouse was one of the original lights mentioned when the Oregon Territory was formed. The light sits on Dungeness Spit, a narrow finger of sand jutting out into the Straits. The Straits are noted for fog, drizzle, and strong winds. Thus, the lighthouse was an important aid to navigation as shipping increased in the Puget Sound region. New Dungeness Light was first displayed on December 14, 1857. The tower was masonry, painted half black and half white, thereby also making it a daymarker. The markings, as seen from the Straits, causes "an illusion to the human eye (that) frequently (seems to) raise the tower to five times its actual size and then suddenly change(s) it to a low, black line close to the ground." The lighthouse, in 1871, was once isolated when the actions of the sea caused a fifty-foot gap to appear in the spit. The same seas, however, also quickly filled in the gap. Probably the most unusual aspect of the light was the fact that, unwittingly, it was constructed on the site of a battleground where local Native Americans fought rival tribes. The unusual aspect is that, while many battles took place at the site, whites were never involved. "The government. Concerned for the safety of the keepers...ordered the lighthouse equipped with heavy green shutters for protection in ease of an. attack." Eventually, the battles became so common place and the dangers so nonexistent to the inhabitants of the light, the keepers "unconcernedly pulled the shutters closed and went about their duties."
To the south, one of the most difficult of all lighthouses on the West Coast to establish was built at Tillamook Rock, Oregon. This light marks dangerous offshore rocks. Tillamook Rock is a rough, crag-like rock where the sea dashes wildly against it. Only one side of the rock even presented a suitable location to place a light. It took several weeks of waiting out rough weather to land just one man, armed with nothing but a tape measure, to provide the measurements from which plans were drawn. Quarrymen were eventually landed to level a site. The men working on the construction labored from October 1879 to January 2, 1881, under the most severe conditions imaginable. The seas made landing dangerous, with wind and seas threatening to wash the workers off the rock once they managed to get aboard. A large boom was finally installed that helped in landing men and supplies.
Tillamook Rock, once placed into commission, provided difficulties for those that served at the station. The force of the sea caused incidents that strain credulity. Green water has been reported topping the light’s lantern room, some 133 feet above the sea. In December 1886, a half-ton mass of concrete was sheared off and flung some ninety feet above normal water. In 1894, thirteen panes in the lantern room were completely shattered and rocks, seaweed, and fish were flung into the room. The iron roof received so many holes that in 1898 it had to be replaced with thick, flat reinforced concrete.
It took a special person to stay on Tillamook Rock. One lighthouse keeper, as a reward for long and faithful service at the isolated station, was selected to help care for the U.S. Lighthouse Service’s exhibit at the Panama Pacific Exposition in San Francisco in 1898. After a week amongst the crowds, the keeper pleaded to return to his rock. "No more of them noisy wise cracking crowds for me, I’ll live here until I die," the keeper reported upon his return to Oregon. Robert Gerloff actually hated to go ashore and it was rumored that he had spent a five-year stretch on the rock without relief. When it came time for his retirement Gerloff pleaded with the Service to allow him to stay aboard Tillamook Rock as a paying guest, but his request was denied and the old keeper left the light for the last time.
The most isolated and dangerous duty in the Lighthouse Service was aboard lightships. These small, special ships guarded areas where it was impossible to build a light structure. The obvious danger in this type of duty is that the vessel must remain on station no matter how fierce the gale. Another real danger is the possibility of being rammed by another ship attempting to feel its way through thick weather. The William F. Channing, for example, struck the Columbia River Lightship, in January 1950. The lightship on this station had been involved in collisions on two previous occasions.
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