Like all kids I liked to go fishing. I think the first time my mother let me do it on my own was in 1934, when I was twelve.
    In San Francisco you only had one choice, the Bay. Maybe there was fishing at Lake Merced, I  don't remember, I never went there, but if so I'm sure it cost more than I could pay. My allowance was ten cents a week.
    That was the most important thing in the Depression, have fun for the least amount of money.
    I fished at the Muni Pier at the end of Van Ness Avenue. There were a couple of bait shops nearby, which was convenient, but at the Pier you had to stand up.
    I liked the waterfront near the Ferry Building much better. You had your choice of piers and there were plenty of places to sit down, and it was much warmer than at Muni, no fog or wind. And you got to watch ships unload, or see a white Matson Liner, like the Lurline or Mariposa head off to Hawaii.

 

Mariposa at Pier 24, 1934
Bay Bridge tower construction far left.

    But my favorite fishing spot was Sausalito across the Bay in Marin County. First of all you had a wonderful trip on a big Southern Pacific Ferry. That was an adventure in itself for a kid.
    You got the ferry at the foot of Hyde Street. There was one problem; I only had the fare for a one way trip.  But I solved that. Here's a photo of the Hyde Street pier.

 

    Notice the cars lined up waiting to go aboard. The fare included the automobile, the driver and one passenger. What I did was go down the line of cars until I spotted one with no passenger. Then I would ask the driver, "Can I sit in your car until we get on the ferry?" It never failed, and once I was on board, I got out of the car and went up on deck.
    Highlight of the trip was seeing Alcatraz.  in 1934 it had just become a Federal Prison with some notorious residents. As I passed the island I looked at the cell block and wondered what Al Capone and "Machine Gun" Kelly were doing. 
  When I got to Sausalito I walked down to the Japanese bait shop, which was right on the water. For fifteen cents the owner gave you a bamboo pole with a long line and four hooks and a bag of shrimp.
    For the rest of the day I would sit on the end of the pier catching smelt, which were plentiful in those days. Lunch was a peanut butter sandwich my mother had made for me.
    When it was time to go back to San Francisco I walked to the ferry, past the waiting automobiles and bought a passenger ticket for ten cents.
    No driver wanted a kid with a sack of smelt in his car.

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