Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Treasure Island



CCXLVII





Treasure Island



As the 1930s entered their latter half, Juan Trippe was understandably irked at the world’s only transoceanic airfield, as well he should have been. He owned it. Or at least he rented it from the U.S. Navy. It was a strictly utilitarian flying boat base at Alameda Point on the Oakland Estuary built in 1927 when the wetlands were filled in and an East-West runway and three hangars were constructed. A series of nineteenth century ship hulks, including some of Civil War vintage, were sunk offshore to create a breakwater. The area soon became known as the “Yacht Basin” and in 1930 the United States Army Air Corps, which controlled it then, named the complex Benton Field. A few wooden barracks buildings and prefabricated metal structures popped up over time but Benton Field was underutilized.




The Yacht Basin



The Army gave Benton Field to the City of Alameda, who in turn handed it over to the Navy for management. Since the Army, the Navy, and the City of Alameda all used Benton Field, but none of them very much, it was difficult to say who had the ultimate responsibility for it.




The China Clipper (NC14716 or “Sweet Sixteen”) undergoing maintenance at Alameda



When Juan Trippe came looking for a Pacific Coast homeport for his flying clipper ships, the Yacht Basin seemed a perfect, if strictly temporary, spot. The area was just large enough to land and moor the M-130s and the S-42Bs that Trippe expected would serve as the backbone of his Pacific service. Plus, it was cheap. Trippe paid the Navy a nominal rent as an old Naval Aviator might, and ignored the tangle of Army and Municipal interrelationships he might otherwise have had to address. 



A Municipal plan showing development along the Estuary



The China Clipper first left Alameda on November 22, 1935, and for the next year carried out survey flights and carried mail and cargo only, as Trippe reached across the sea step-by-step. The cargo crates and mail sacks could have cared less about the flaking paint on the barracks or the rust spots on the prefabs, or the general air of untidiness that pervaded the site, but long before passenger service began on October 21, 1936, Trippe knew he needed to upgrade.



With little raw material to work with on the ground, Pan Am could only point out that Alameda’s facilities were “temporary” and had “attractive signs”.



The problem was that there was no immediate upgrade available, so Pan American tried to put lipstick on a pig. Even with a fresh coat of paint, a comfortably redecorated “terminal” and a bar and grill on site, Alameda still had all the charm of the back side of a strip mall. The hulks poking up through the water in the bay like so many broken teeth only added to the seedy atmosphere.



The crew of Sweet Sixteen prepares for their first departure from Alameda as an excited crowd looks on



Pan American Airways wanted anything but to be seen as seedy. The whole brand was predicated on glamour, but their decidedly unglamorous China Clipper facilities spoiled the effect even before the effect took hold. Honolulu and Midway and Wake and Guam and Manila might all be tropical and exotic and replete with shrimp cocktails and umbrella drinks, but the promise of Alameda was the promise of a per-the-hour motor hotel.




During World War II Benton Field became known as Alameda Point Naval Air Station and was greatly expanded. The Yacht Basin was landfilled and the Pan Am facilities were torn down. Hangar 14 was decorated with a Pan Am logo in honor of the airline’s connection to the site, but the hangar was never used by Pan Am despite local urban legend



As always, Juan Trippe had a plan. As almost always, he kept it to himself. It focused on a place called Treasure Island, a place that didn’t even exist yet when the China Clippers first took to the skies.




The China Clipper calling at Alameda with the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge in the background



San Francisco, like Pan American Airways, was growing into itself. In 1935, the China Clippers linked San Francisco to the Orient by air for the first time. In 1936, the White City By The Bay celebrated the opening of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, and in 1937, it celebrated the opening of the Golden Gate Bridge, then the world’s largest and longest suspension bridge. To cap this era of civic growth and pride, the city fathers planned The Golden Gate International Exposition. It was slated for two summer seasons 1939 and 1940, it was meant to celebrate San Francisco, and not coincidentally, it ran at the same time as the New York World’s Fair of 1939-1940.  


A China Clipper takes to the air over the Golden Gate Bridge


After reviewing several sites and finding none of them suitable, the city decided to enlarge Yerba Buena Island in the bay, landfill the Yerba Buena Shoals, and use the reclaimed land for the Exposition.


The map to Treasure Island

The resulting island was just under a mile square and was accessible by ferry. A large part of the cost was borne by the Works Progress Administration, with smaller sums being contributed by the State of California, the City of San Francisco, private donors, and corporate sponsors, including Pan American. 



Pan Am’s hangars under construction on Treasure Island, 1937

 
Juan Trippe casually suggested to the Exposition’s directors that the island could be used as a municipal airport following the close of the Fair. The plan received dynamic endorsement, and Trippe had a permanent home for the China Clippers. A permanent Administration Building costing one million dollars and two hangars were constructed thereafter, with much of the cost spread between the funding sources.
 


An artist’s conception of Treasure Island as an aerodrome

In laying out his proposal to the city, Trippe made sure that the overall cost of transforming the fairgrounds into an airport would be modest. The fair’s wide, well-paved midway (called the “Gayway”) was given the dimensions of a runway, and the secondary paths were constructed with their use as taxiways in mind. A marina was built on the south end of the island with mooring facilities for flying boats. The space between Yerba Buena Island and Treasure Island was named Clipper Cove.


Pan Am’s Treasure Island Airport, imagined 1938

The most memorable structure of the Exposition was the 400 foot tall Tower of the Sun with its reflecting pool, which became the symbol of the fair.


The Tower of The Sun, Treasure Island, 1939

Sadly, much like the New York World’s Fair which was in progress on the east coast, the Golden Gate International Exposition lost significant money. The public mood was growing darker by the day. By the time both Fairs opened for their first seasons in the Spring of 1939, the shadow of war had nearly waxed full. Autumn would see virtually all the world at war except the United States of America, leading to calls for cancellation of the second season of both Fairs. They went on regardless in 1940, ghost towns celebrating a world that was vanishing by the moment. 


The Trylon and Perisphere, Flushing Meadow, New York, 1939

The war was to disrupt and destroy many plans and lives, and it would change the trajectory of Pan American Airways in ways which Juan Trippe never could have imagined.


Dusk for the Tower of the Sun. With the ending of the Exposition Pan Am moved into what the airline thought would be its permanent home on the Pacific coast. The landplane airfield was fated never to be completed, but the remaining M-130s, S-42s, and new Boeing 314s (shown) used Treasure Island as their base for a single brief year until the World War changed everything
 

 

 

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