Most of the boats in view belong to a "third generation" of fishing craft which have made history at the "Wharf".

From the days of the Gold Rush until the turn of the Century, the San Francisco fishing fleet was composed of lateen-rigged sailboats. They were copies of the craft which the Italian fishermen knew in their native land. Green was the prevailing color of the tiny boats, and the name of a patron saint appeared on the hull. The fishermen themselves were as colorful as their craft. Their natural talent for song was to be heard in renditions of arias from Verdi, lusty if not always true to the ear. In the fog-shrouded waters outside the Golden Gate, the singing was a means of communication. You could not see a companion boat, but you knew it was there.

The "second-generation" of fishing boats came with the introduction of gasoline engines; small but dependable "put-puts". What became known as the Monterey Hull boats came into general use. The gas engine made it possible to fish more days of the year, gave a wider range for their operation in the ocean water and provided power to haul in the nets or lines.

Even today, several hundred of the Monterey-type boats remain as a part of the fishing fleet. Often likened to the "vintage" automobiles of the Model-T era, the Monterey Hull craft ride at harbor alongside a "'third generation" of commercial fishing boats; diesel-powered craft which overshadow them in size; cruising capacity and are often equipped with two-way radio telephones and "sonar" depth-finders.

In those older days the fishermen got their news about the weather from Nature instead of a radio report. If the moon was in the east, the tide was coming in; or if in the west, the tide was flowing out the Golden Gate. A circle around the moon meant rain. Porpoises playing around the boat indicated a bad wind was brewing.

Old timers around Fisherman's Wharf have other tales to tell, recalled from the period of the last sailboats. It was hard work. If the boat was becalmed, they waited long hours for a breeze, or got out the oars and rowed. Sometimes they would throw a grappling hook into the rudder chain of a passing steamer and get an easy ride home. When the steamer crews called out imprecations against these marine hitchhikers, the Italian fishermen screamed right back in words that soon became a part of waterfront "lingo".

In those earlier periods the favorite fishing spots were outside the Golden Gate, just beyond the waves breaking on the rocks and sandy beaches. It took great skill to manage the boats so they did not drift ashore and be wrecked. In terms of money, the rewards were very low, if today's standards of value are to serve as a measure. The average fisherman made $2 or $3 a week, sometimes as much as $5. But, on the other hand a loaf of bread could be bought for less than five cents, and good red wine came from grapes that could be purchased for $5 a ton.

Today, as in the past, it is the fishing fleet, operated by the grandsons and great-grandsons of these past generations, which make Fisherman’s Wharf a place of activity; the center of an ocean-oriented industry beloved by native San Franciscans and visitors alike.

The opening of crab season in November is a festive occasion. It is the day when the cauldrons along Fisherman's Wharf are lighted, ready to receive the boxes piled high with Dungeness crab hoisted from the decks of the first boats that come chuffing back into port. It is a time for gourmet feasting that will last through the weeks and months to follow.

Traditionally, the opening of the crab season is preceded with a religious procession and a priestly blessing of the fleet. The boat decks are piled high with crab traps. The first day's harvest is anxiously awaited as an indication of what the season will bring the "crabbers" as a reward for their work.

A century ago, Chinese fishermen and the early arriving Italians with their lateen-rigged Genoese sailboats, found crabs in plentiful supply from the Straits of Carquinez on the inland reaches of San Francisco Bay to the sandy shorelines off Berkeley, Oakland and Alameda. Over the years, clams, the natural food of the crab, disappeared from the Bay. The best crab catches were then made just outside the Golden Gate. Today, the "crabbrs" must drop their crab pots far out near the Farallon Islands in 18 to 35 fathoms of ocean water.

When the crab fishermen arrive at their fishing ground, their first chore is to set the crab traps, made of wire and about the size and shape of a tire. Inside each they place a bait jar and drop the weighted pot over the side. A small marker buoy painted with the owner's colors and tethered to the trap floats to the surface. Each of the boats may drop up to 200 pots. By the time the last pots have been dropped, night has fallen. In the early dawn it is time to begin hauling in the traps. Only the largest crabs are selected. The smaller ones are returned to the water.

In the early days of the fishing fleet, good food based on the Italian cuisine was to be found only in the homes of the area. But, even before there were any sidewalks or restaurants at Fisherman’s Wharf some of the fishermen set up cauldrons of boiling water in which to cook the freshly caught crabs and dispensed them in paper cups as a crab cocktail to be enjoyed by visitors.

During the last quarter century many restaurants have been established, with the traditional steaming crab cauldron in front of their place of business. Men in smocks attend the cauldrons and still offer the visitors paper cups of fresh-cooked crab meat cocktails, or whole cooked crabs to take home.

Many of the dishes available at these restaurants are developments of seafood dishes which the fishermen parents or grandparents of the present operators prepared in their native Italy, or in their San Francisco homes. It is dining such as to be found in no other place.

The inventor of the cable car was Andrew Hallidie, a Scottish engineer and wire rope manufacturer. The inspiration for it is said to have come from an incident observed by Hallidie in 1869. He reportedly came upon a team of four horses struggling to haul a public conveyance up a steep San Francisco street. One horse slipped on the fog-slick cobblestones, causing the car to roll backward dragging all four horses with it. He promised himself he would put an end to this unintentional cruelty to animals.

As an engineer, it did not take Hallidie long to design the cable railway, by which an engaged cable in a slot would carry a car uphill or down at the same speed. Financing the project was more difficult, but faith and confidence prevailed and construction began in May, 1872. Many labeled it "Hallidie’s Folly". Laboring against a franchise deadline granted by skeptical city fathers, Hallidie and his crew worked through the night on the final day of grace. On August 2, 1873 at five a.m., Hallidie took the grip man's position in the original cable car and triumphantly made the first run from the top of Nob Hill, safely down steep Clay Street to the wonderment of the doubting spectators.

Today the cable cars still run from Hallidie Plaza at Market Street, up Powell Street, past the hotels on Nob Hill, and down to Fisherman's Wharf beside the Golden Gate, providing the scenic ride which is the preferred mode of transportation for most of the millions of people who visit Fisherman's Wharf annually.