Omaha daily bee., 1889-01-27
WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON.
Pen Pictures of Scenes Near the
Mouth of the Columbia.
rHEsALMoN PACKING INDUSTRY.
Description OF the Preparation of a
Delicious Edible-The People who
Prepare 1.-THE Salmon jar
ncrics and Their Operation.
A Dan of Salmon.

THE BEE "A sleepy grunt, u thor-
oughly British eXpletive, and looked
over the edge OF my berth to see my
stateroom mate tossing n soap dish II
other toilet accessories out on the hoor,
which the rolling of the steamer had
thrown upon him from the wash stand.
The steamer was rolling fearfully and
through the diminutive window in the
side OF the stateroom came the cold gray
light of n dawn on the ocean.
A day or so before the Queen of the
Pacific had steamed slowly, and with
qucenly grace, through the shipping in
San Francisco harbor and out through
the Golden Gate. Once upon the ocean
her PROV was pointed northward, and
we were on our way to where rolls the
mighty Oregon"
1t was then | made the acquaintance
of my temporary room MAZE, u typical
British "bog-trotter," who was on his
way home to London from Melbourne,
and who wanted to see us much of this
''blawstcd kcntry" as his coupon ticket
as long rs our arm-Called for.
We had arrived off the mouth of the
Columbia river in the night, and the
pilot had "stood OFF, until daylight
should assist him in making the diff
cult passage across the bar. We
dressed and hurried on deck. A cold
fog cncircled the steamer, which rolled
from side to side in long sweeps, as the
huge green waves bore down and swept
beneath her with an angry swish.
From shoreward came the booming Of
the breakers tumbling across the Olaf
CON emit and tho Mechanically tnljnp nf
a bell buoy in the passage. Bye and
bye the fog cleared away somewhat, and
u bell tangled away down in the bowels
of the ship. The pilot shouted-inco-
herently to merely ordinary ears-to
the wheelman, and we started across
one of the most dangerous river bars in
America.
As we neared the coast, Cape Hancock
doomed through the disappearing fog to
the northward, its rocky height sur
mounted by "A lighthouse. At its base
lie the t~reacherous sands Of Peacock
spit, with the breakers frothing and
Peacock spit owes its name to the fact
that here went down the British man
o'-war, H. M. S. Peacock one stormy
winter night, as she was trying to make
a snug harbOr within.
The southerly entrance to the mouth
of the river is menaced by the equally
deadly Clatsop spit, with its eve chang
ing and shallow sands. Both these spits
can show a long record Of wrecks, and
could they give up their cad would
marshal a vast army Of seamen, fisher
men and those who go down to the sea
in ships"
Across the bar, just inside, is a long,
narrow, low ribbon of sand, called Sand
island. on which the surf beats inces-
sanity. On the ocean side Of Sand
island the boiler and cylinder of aonce
powerful ocean steamship, the Repub-
lie, sticks, nose up, in the sand at low
tide, a target for the gunners at Fort
Candy on drill days.
AS we cross the bar the sun comes out
and we round Cape Hancock, swinging
into the channel OF the river. An i'm
aginative mind can picture this river
bar when only the aboriginies and u
few OF Astor's trappers had seen it.
perched on the brow of the cape the
scene is unchanged to-day.
Just around the caDe'S rocky wall, on
a sunny little bay, is Fort Candy. The
sodded parade ground extends down to
the waters edge, hemmed in by a cres-
cent of barracks and cosy officers quar-
tiers. Here also are the cottages Of the
signal service and l~ife-saving station
officers. All around are rocky hills
covered with sombre pines.
On the south shore the fiat sandy sur
face OF Point Adams juts into the chan
mel, from which the new government
ietty projects like a long finger. Fort
Stevens, garrisoned by a solitary ord
nance officer, makes a pretence OF
guarding the mouth Of the river, and
from here Point Adams light flashes q
warning across the breakers.
We pass the mouth of the historical
Lewis and Clark river, the first salmon
cannery ONE into view, and we are in
a land where salmon is king"
Astoria Is, | venture to say, one of
the most picturesque and interesting
towns in America. Here many years
ago was the headquarters of the Aston
fur company. From here the trappers
SET forth on their long hunts through
the trackless forest, returning at the
furs and pelts.
The passengers crowd to the, side of
the ship as we steam slowly past can
after cannery, and past the narrow
strip of town which extends along the
river for a couple of miles. 1t is u ver-
liable American Venice, and the larg-
est producer of the succulent canned
salmon III the world.
We land at the long covered wharf of
the o. II. & N. Co., are packed into a
dilapidated hack and rum
bled off up "a planked street to an excel
lent breakfast OF fish of innumerable
varieties n many styles of cookery.
The season had commenced, and we
were anxious to become acquainted
with the interior Of "a cannery, and the
modus operandi of packing the fish.
The streets Of Astoria are peculiarly
interesting to Il 'tenderfoot." The town
is Almost wholly built over the river,
brick buildings of no inconsiderable
weight are erected on piles, driven
and deeply into the muddy bot
tom of the river, and below the planked
one hears the waves smashing |
among the timbers. You stand on the
sidewalk and look over the railing
into the watery vacant lots, and
impressed with the belief that you
are on IL bridge instead of blocking n
very busy sidewalk. Planked streets
run up and down and across, and every
cross-street end in a steamship or can
merry dock. On n rickety pile, arising
from n vacant let of water, is tackled the
For sale" sign OF an e~nterprlsing real
estate dealer. Near by a Chinaman is
Through n hole In the street,
catching a mess of ''mld catsr and