MEMORIES

MEMORIES

Seacliff Beach has been a favorite family getaway since the fifties. We always called the cement ship at the end of the fishing pier the ”cement boat” even though she is more properly the “concrete ship”. I first saw the S.S. Palo Alto on a family picnic. Our family had moved from Fresno to Santa Clara in the spring of 1958. My dad loved Sunday drives to explore nearby attractions, So one Sunday we ended up at Seacliff Beach. I was ready to jump in the surf as soon as I saw the breaking waves, but I settled for admiring the beach and ship, enjoying our picnic, and then our trip back home.

S.S. Palo Alto with masts (removed in 1959).

It took a few years before my second visit to Seacliff. I moved from Santa Clara to Richmond in the fall of 1958 to attend a high seminary in Richmond, As I studied Latin and Greek there, I longed for the beaches near Seacliff. At the end of my sophomore year, my dream came true. The junior seminary was going to move to St. Francis High School in Watsonville. The high school had access to Camp St. Francis near Seacliff Beach. At random times, the Director of the Seminary would announce a spontaneous bus trip to the beach. As we learned to body surf or searched for surf clams, we could see the cement boat and Seacliff beach in the distance.

When I graduated from St. Francis High School in 1962, I hopped on a train with my classmates to New York for five years of seminary life in Newton, New Jersey. California beaches were only a dream. But in the summer 1965 I was assigned to be a camp counselor at Camp St. Francis. Another dream became a reality. When I wasn’t supervising a cabin with 20-30 boys ages 7-13, I was running the camp candy store, or life guarding at the beach. That was my favorite job until the Camp Director assigned me to drive a pickup full of boys to the cement boat every Wednesday to go fishing.

Seat belt laws were just starting, so the boys would hold onto the side of the pickup while I drove them about 10 minutes from the camp to the cement boat. Old-timers on the pier would adopt some of the boys for the afternoon helping them with tangled lines, baiting hooks, and reeling in fish. When one of the boys caught a large flounder, the fishermen helped him pull his fish onto shore so that his line wouldn’t break. In 1965 the boys could also drop crab nets from the cement boat or fish off the sides.

Back at the camp between camp sessions, I would join some of the counselors in a jog down the beach to a pizza place at Rio del Mar and a short walk to the cement boat:

Late that summer I flew back to New Jersey to finish my final two years of college. By May of 1967, all of the graduates waited anxiously for their teaching assignments at a Salesian High School. I was elated when I was assigned to teach at St. Francis High School in Watsonville. Now as a teacher, I couldn’t wait until the Director announced another trip to Camp St. Francis. When the students were on vacation, I would join Bro. Zanella and some locals early in the morning raking clams at the beach. I remember driving to the beach in December with another Brother to do some body surfing. My life guard training came in handy when I was pulled out on a rip current. I treaded water for a long time until I found a way around the current. By the time my buddy arrived with some help, I was back on the beach.

During the summer of 1970 I decided to take a break from seminary life. I took a job as a librarian in Wheatland and started dating. I met another teacher at church and decided that married life was for me. I married the beautiful and talented Barbara LaPlante in 1971 and we started a family. As the family grew, we took trips to Fort Bragg and other beaches. A few times we visited Seacliff beach where I taught some of our kids to body surf.

In 1998 and for a few years beyond we joined the RVers at Seacliff with our Seabreeze RV:

In 2002 Barbara and I traveled south to Saint Francis camp on a Sunday afternoon. Some Cursillo participants tried to run us off until I spotted Fr. Nick Reina. I told them he owned the place and we were his guests. Nick showed us and another couple around the camp. No more barracks, cold showers, dusty baseball fie1d. It had become now a beautiful retreat center minus part of the cliffs that had eroded. The beach and spectacular view remained the same:

In 2004 we began a family tradition celebrating my Mom's birthday at the beach. My sisters and their families would join ours in July to enjoy Seacliff beach or nearby Pajaro Dunes. We took some of our most treasured family gathering pictures with Grandma Helen, family, relatives, and friends. See pictures and links below:

2004: Grandma's 85th: