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A trip to San Francisco is never complete without the obligatory trip to Pier 39 on the Embarcadero. And a trip to Pier 39 is never complete without feeding your gob full of hot buttered garlic crab served on a vast piping hot platter at the legendary Crab House. The food is one of THE BEST things about San Francisco and the Crab House has been a favorite of ours for many years. After a slap up lunch we mooched around the pier then strolled past Fisherman's Wharf down to Ghirardelli Square for an ice cream sundae dessert, then, feeling completely stuffed, we watched the turnaround for the cable cars on Beach Street after which we walked up the hill, puffing and panting, to walk down the twisty-turny Lombard Street. Fabulous! On the way back to the trailer, we stopped for more photos of the Golden Gate Bridge from Fort Baker. The pics do all the talking!
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When we first visited San Francisco when Henry was only 6 years old, he got confused between Azkaban Prison from the Harry Potter books and the austere Alcatraz Island that he could see offshore in the bay, shrouded in a cloud of dense grey fog, or was that the Dementors floating around the island guarding the prison? He was a little afraid that we would run in to Sirius Black, Bellatrix Lestrange or, even worse, Voldemort himself. We told him Dumbledore would protect him and he would be safe. Of course, this was before the Half-Blood Prince took care of Dumbledore! Jump forward 16 years to a beautiful clear day with blue skies and sunshine with absolutely no Dementor-Fog in sight, we once again set off to visit Alcatraz Island. This time Henry felt the place was strangely familiar as he had visited the island so many times, skating there in Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 4 and fighting zombies in Call of Duty: Black Ops II. He kept surprising us by pointing out various sights with which he was familiar including the iconic Power Station and the prison yard with its barely visible baseball diamond. He referred to the crowd of people as NPC's (Non playable characters). Hilarious!   As we departed Pier 33 we could see the whole of San Francisco from the Bay Bridge all the way around to the Golden Gate Bridge, from Coits Tower to the Palace of Fine Arts. The city on a hill acting like a giant amphitheater with beautiful and well dressed buildings sitting in excited anticipation, shoulder to shoulder in row upon row of staggered seating looking out in to the bay to watch the latest drama unfold on Alcatraz Island. The island itself got its name from the Spanish word "Alcatraces" which translates to "pelicans." We could see, even from a distance as we approached the island, that the birds had had become the latest inmates and had taken over the island. Pelicans, gulls, cormorants and other sea birds riotously flocked together in a loud cacophony of squawking wise guys jostling for position and the best nesting spaces. We landed on the island and could immediately see the handwritten signs affirming Alcatraz was a Native American protest site.
All tribes in the U.S. are currently claiming Alcatraz as belonging to them in accordance with the Treaty of Fort Laramie signed in 1868. The Treaty states all retired, abandoned, and out of use federal lands must be returned to the tribes. Since Alcatraz Penitentiary was closed in 1968 and the island officially declared as surplus federal property, Native Americans have fought for its return to tribal possession. We set off up the hill to explore the island. We were surprised that there were so many derelict buildings that had not been protected or preserved. We walked past the Warden's House that used to house the prison warden's and their families back in the day. It was in ruins, overgrown with weeds and now inhabited by scary seagulls, serious about defending their turf. At the top of the hill we came to the Power Station, similarly dilapidated. We peered through the broken window to see the furnaces that used to power the island with electricity. We ambled past the impressive water tower, several guard towers, a makeshift morgue and other brick buildings that included a solid outer wall signaling the fort that sat on Alcatraz before the prison was even conceived. We eventually arrived at the main cell house where the prisoners of Azkaban, oops, Alcatraz, were held captive.
The whole place was austere and pretty grim. The cells were cold and very small, barely enough room to swing a dirty rat, never mind a proverbial cat. Metal bed, tiny sink and a seatless toilet. Cell after cell after cell. Floor after floor after floor. From 1934 to 1963 the cell block housed over 1500 inmates. Alcatraz was reserved for the most hardened of criminals including the infamous Chicago gangster Al Capone as well as George "Machine Gun" Kelly, Robert Stroud, a convicted murderer and ornithologist, known as "The Birdman of Alcatraz," and the notorious Boston mob boss James "Whitey" Bulger. We visited the dining room, saw the kitchens, visited the museum that used to be the Officer's Club, a fully functioning hospital that took care of the medical needs of both the prisoners and the staff, and I was delighted to discover a library too. I could feel the wicked hard vibes as I walked down those hallways. Alcatraz was a hard prison inhabited by hard men doing hard time.
We walked from the depressing cells out into the exercise yard and oh what a difference! We were greeted by the dazzling sun and clear, blue skies. From atop the steps we had a panoramic view of San Francisco to the south and Sausalito to the north. We could see life outside the prison walls going about its daily business. 
 We continued to explore the island finishing up at the lighthouse with stunning views of the applauding city. On the day we were there, it happened to be September 11th and the flags were flying at half mast. To see the Stars and Stripes proudly flying brought a lump to my throat as I remembered that fateful day 22 years ago when Henry was just a newborn baby, just 6 months old. It was a scary day. To see the flag flying from Alcatraz on such a beautiful day over such a beautiful city reminded me of the grit and resilience of America and brought an unexpected feeling of hope for the future. 
 We sauntered around the island until late in the afternoon when we eventually made it back to the docking area. We sailed back to Pier 33 and then headed straight to Boudin Sourdough Bakery for an early dinner. Time with family, eating steaming hot clam chowder in a freshly baked sourdough bowl overlooking Alcatraz in San Francisco Bay. Priceless.
We set out in the dark, before dawn so that we could watch the sun rise through the fog over the Golden Gate Bridge. It was chilly and clear as we left Petaluma, but the closer we got to the bay, the foggier it became. First we drove to the Golden Gate Bridge Vista Lookout on the Marin County side of the bay but it was so dark and foggy, we could barely see the bonnet of the truck. We got out, looked blankly into the fog, laughed, got back in the truck and headed for the bridge. In the eerie morning fog, the ghostly Golden Gate Bridge loomed up before us, as if we were traveling across the sky. We headed to Baker Beach, still in the dark, parked up, walked to the beach which was deserted except for a lone fisherman we could barely make out in the distance, and waited for dawn with our hot coffees. I walked the length of the beach to get as close a view of the bridge as possible and as the sun rose and the fog cleared a little, it was a magnificent sight to see the iconic "International Orange" of the Golden Gate Bridge stretching across San Francisco Bay. A memorable morning!
We spent the rest of the day doing a mini tour of the city. We drove to Lands End and stopped for yet another incredible view of the bay, just as the fog was lifting, then on to Golden Gate Park where we stopped to see the Murphy Windmill, the largest windmill in the world when it was built in 1908. From there we drove through the arts district of Haight-Ashbury to check out the Grateful Dead House which was the communal home and headquarters of the band from 1966 to 1968 and has since been designated an Historical Landmark. We sought out the pastel-painted Victorian homes known as the "Painted Ladies" standing shoulder to shoulder on the slopes of Steiner Street on the edge of Alamo Square. From there we headed on up to Twin Peaks to get a glorious view of the whole city. Instead we got a glorious view of the unfathomable fog. I recognized the very spot where Ken Block made donuts in his famous You Tube video driving the streets of San Francisco. Cool! Check it out...
We continued driving the city (not like Ken Block), enjoying the rise and fall of the streets, as if we were teetering and toppling over the edge at the top of a roller coaster. San Francisco felt familiar as we had seen it so often in films and TV shows. We enjoyed looking out for the parking meters touched by Adrian Monk and Mrs. Doubtfire's house. We stopped for a stroll around the Palace of Fine Arts down by the marina. Built in 1915 for the Panama-Pacific International Exposition, the extravagant, neoclassical icon stood with a quiet dignity, the idyllic pond still and serene, even the grey herons were sleeping with their heads tucked under their wings. It was very quiet down there. Nevertheless, Kim and Henry were keeping a beady eye open for robbers and car jackers.   After such an early start we were all absolutely ravenous so we headed to Chinatown for a late lunch/early dinner. After finally figuring out the color coding for the painted curbs to determine where we could park, we found a spot right at the Dragon Gate. The stores reminded Kim and I of our time in Malaysia- lots of waving cats, jade jewelry, fancy bowls and chopsticks, beautiful Kuan Yin statues, colorful dragons and some incredible antiques spilling out into the streets. We followed our noses to a Dim Sum House, grabbed a selection of hot food and sat outside eating the steamed dumplings as we watched the bustling world go by. The dim sum was phenomenal and we scoffed the lot! Of course we were thinking of Kim's sister Teresa, who loves dim sum. It was her favorite Chinese food when she came to visit us when we lived in Penang.
The journey back over the Golden Gate Bridge at the end of the day was much clearer and we could see the two 746-foot tall towers of the spectacular suspension bridge in all their glory.
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AuthorLaura Barnes is a retired educator. Mostly she loves books, travels and mischief. She dabbles in writing. 
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