I was watching Mythbusters tonight;  the episode was about trying to fool working dogs with different methods:  distractions, disguise, etc.  One of the set-ups they used was trying to get contraband into a mock concert.  They got a crowd of "extras", set up a taco truck, had a low-rider complete with a blasting stereo to drive in, and had lots of loud talk and confusion...like a real concert.  Well, they couldn't fool the dogs.  They did distract one of the dogs with a female Shepherd in heat, but the handler pointed out that their SOP is to remove other dogs during a search.  That isn't what I wanted to share with you.  The Mythbuster crew operates out of the San Francisco area and often do their stunts on inactive military bases.  The concert scene was set up on Fort Mason, at the piers.  That's what I want to write about.

In the summer of 1958 my family went to Japan...well, the Chief went to Japan on ten days notice and we packed up and followed along a couple of months later.  We were scheduled to fly out of Travis AFB.  My Uncle Lloyd was the Provost Marshal at Fort Mason and volunteered to help us out.  Fort Mason is kind of a touristy place now but in 1958 it was still an active, full-fledged Army post.  We went up to the bay area a couple of days early and made a nice family visit out of it.  Uncle Lloyd was an Army Major, a Military Policeman, and a formidable individual.    His house sat up on a hill overlooking the bay, just twenty yards or so from the cannon they fired off every evening when the flag was lowered.  (You know, you kind of get used to stuff like that when you live around it...but you really ought to warn the visitors about it).  As the Chief of Police of Fort Mason, Uncle Lloyd was responsible for the shipment of prisoners to and from Alcatraz.  One of the three deep-water piers on Fort Mason was designated as the "secure area" where the boats that shuttled the prisoners operated.  It was posted with "No Entry" signs everywhere..."Authorized Personnel Only"...that sort of thing.  One morning early, Uncle Lloyd rounded me and my cousin Jack up and loaded the station wagon full of fishing stuff and we headed out to catch dinner.  I had been fishing with my Aunt Essie on occasion so I was not a total stranger to it.  But fishing off a quiet lake shore or creek bank was nothing compared to what happened next.  Lloyd pulled up to the big chain-link fence at the "Security Pier", got out, unlocked the gate, and drove  right up to the edge of the pier.  I was a little nervous;  I pointed out that there were signs all over the place saying we couldn't be there.  Uncle Lloyd smiled (a rare event) and explained that in the world of Fort Mason, he could go anywhere he wanted to.  So we spent the better part of the day fishing off the end of the security pier, raiding the cooler, eating tuna sandwiches, and hauling in some pretty hefty salt-water fish.

You may have heard that one of the things that was a major deterrent to escaping from Alcatraz, (aside from the raging currents, frigid water, and machine gun towers all around it) was the fact that the bay was full of sharks.  All kinds of sharks.  Little ones like the spotted dogfish all the way up to hefty Tigers that were more than six feet long.  And just outside the bay were some of the biggest Great Whites in the Pacific.  Well, the story's true, I'm here to say, 'cause that day we brought up two or three Sea Bass that were enough to feed both families, but we must have pulled in a dozen sharks of all varieties...and a bunch of huge crabs.  We threw the crabs back.  Uncle Lloyd said to me, "I know your dad loves crabmeat, but I can't stand that crap."  At that point in my life I was in total agreement with that sentiment.  But Uncle Lloyd's attitude about the sharks was just a tad disturbing.  Most of the sharks we pulled in were in the two-to-three-foot range.  Lloyd would put a foot on each side of the shark, pinning it to the dock by standing on its pectoral fins.  Then he would drive a bayonet into its head.  The shark would start to curl up and spasm.  Then he threw it back.  He said the odd behavior would attract its brothers and cousins and they would eat him. (I have since learned that some of those larger sharks are durn fine eatin'...oh well).

We also caught five or six sharks that I considered pretty dangerous and scary.  The biggest was at least six feet long.  I didn't know from sharks in those days; we hadn't had "Jaws" to pique our interest yet.  Whatever brand it was, it came to the surface and expressed its displeasure by attacking the pier and anything it could reach.  Lloyd got it on the pier and stood on it like he did the others.  But for the big one he started by cutting off its tail.  Then he cut a deep slash in its belly and tossed it back into the bay.  I didn't ask why.  I just assumed he didn't like sharks much.  And there didn't seem to be a shortage of them.  Watching him in action reinforced the notion that the Chief had planted in my little brain that Uncle Lloyd was one bad hombre.  In any case, I caught a number of sharks and crabs and the other fellas caught the food fish.  I got sunburned and dried out and thoroughly exhausted.  And we had a wonderful fresh-fish dinner.  And I cemented a life-long memory of how easily Lloyd wielded that bayonet.

Seeing the piers of Fort Mason on Mythbusters tonight was a pleasant surprise.  It took me back over fifty years.  The trip to Japan was eventful and arduous and loooooooong.  I guess I should get that all down in another article. In any case, it has been fun recalling that fishing trip and the silvery, flashing, sharp-toothed sharks and the times we had in San Francisco.