Last December we’d (barely) landed in San Francisco amit a huge storm that every local had expertly dismissed as an afternoon shower. Two days later the storm ominiously pounded San Francisco well into the night.
We figured that tomorrow’s trip to Alcatraz and a Segway tour would be either rained out or suitably miserable. Much to our surprise however the sun woke up to blue skies, and we were treated to some of the best weather we had while in the city.
After our first experience with a Segway (which was easily enough fun for one day) we walked Fisherman’s Wharf to the dock at Pier 41. Five slightly chaotic minutes of lining up and one obligatory photo later – one wonders why you’d like a photo of your brother and yourself infront of a ferry – and we were on our way to the rock. For anybody who hasn’t been before, heed my warning and don’t fool yourself; the open-air top deck should only be reserved for people who can’t fit into the rest of the boat, or need a whole-body blowdry.
For some reason (it could have been the wind forcing my eyes shut) the island snuck up on me, and I didn’t quite notice our arrival until we hit the dock with a dull thud. Everybody politely stood and queued to get off, as Americans do quite like no other country I’ve visited, and we shuffled off patiently single-file onto the dock and into the path of a welcome lady behind a megaphone. Those who tried to ‘escape’ early and make their way up the steep path were kindly asked to stay, albeit in triple-decibels.
As you hear the welcome speech you can’t help but look to the structures directly above, and I found it strange to see what consisted of a “Welcome to Alcatraz!” sign.
It turns out, after the prison was closed in 1963 the visitors kept on coming, although illegally and completely unorganised. That is until a group of Indians got together (dubbed Indians of All Tribes) who decided that they’d like to reclaim the island as their own. Three years passed, and what many say most of the destruction as well, before the US Army removed the remaining tribe members from the island. After which the government declared it a historical landmark and took an active role in it’s preservation and restoration.
Amazingly enough, even the first sign you see on the island still displays some of the troubled recent history on the island, and is a preview of things to come as you tour the island.
After walking the seemingly endless three-stage ramp to the main prison (which would have been a great introduction for all new prisoners) you find yourself ushered through a nondescript side door and into an informal lobby where you can purchase audio tour headsets.
The headsets are well worth the money, with some great commentaries and history of the prison. Unlike places like the Louvre, the tour forces you in a certain direction, although this has the benefit of not having number plates over everything. Thanks to some of the ambient noises in the audio tour there’s an initial side-effect of people spinning on their heels to see what they thought they just heard behind them. I was guilty of such foolishness throughout the tour.
The main artery of the cell block, dubbed Broadway, greets you as you enter. Looking at this section of Alcatraz might make you think they’ve done agreat job of restoration and preservation, and by all appearances everything looks pretty much as you’d expect it did while the prison was operating. It’s not until you get further inside and really start to dig around that you see how bad a shape Alctraz really is in.
Even though there are three tiers of cells, visitors are only allowed on the ground floor. You get a real sense of missing out, which only increases when you see just how much of the cell block you can’t access. Safety of course would presumably be the main concern, as concrete rot and general health problems (lead paint, taking a dive from the top mezzanine) would make the insurance companies nervous.
Next door to Broadway was A-Block, the first part of Alcatraz that I found off-limits. Unchanged since it was a military prison, A-Block is the touted only remaining original section of the entire prison. The bars are flat steel, something that all other cells have had replaced since, and the paint scheme is different also. The overall condition is not too bad here, but I was again disappointed to not have access. Looking back I think people are lucky to be able to see this part of the prison at all – as I’ll get onto later. Oh and yes, those are oil heaters to keep the prisoners warm during the freezing Bay nights. I hope they had warm sheets.
Al Capone is by far the most infamous Alcatraz resident, and they make light of this in the audio-tour by pointing out his “supposed” cell. Why this hasn’t been confirmed I find strange, but perhaps it just adds to the mystery. The cell on the left in the next shot is the cell, I mean “supposed” cell, of ole Scarface. As with the rest of the mezzanines, no access is available.
Most people know of the escape attempt made famous by the film Escape from Alctraz, but not so many have heard of the famous “Battle of Alcatraz”, which occured in 1946. Instead of describing it, there’s a great article on it at alcatrazhistory.com. The cells themselves are a little unnerving and unlike most of the other cells that were open, I didn’t see a single person going inside them. #403 is on the left.
On the other side of the cell block (facing San Francisco itself) are the solitary confinement and the infamous hole cells.
Strangely, these look fairly hospitable. Not only do they feature the same amenities, they get the warm afternoon sun during winter, and are practically double the length of regular cells. Prisoners were sent here if they became rowdy or troublesome to cool off. I can see how they cooled off as this is easily the most luxurious spot in the entire cell block. A tale is told however of a carnival on the beach at San Francisco at night, of which favourable winds carried the sound of people laughing and having fun all the way over to these cells.
The hole cells are aptly named. They are the same size as solitary confinement, although the bars are replaced by a solid steel wall and instead of a basin and toilet, they had a hole in the floor. Possibly to deter re-enactments, somebody has since filled the holes with concrete.
The infamous dungeons of Alcatraz, the real holes, are completely off-limits. No clear path leads to that area and nothing at all is said of them.
Walking back into the main cell block I was treated to some of the worse conditioned cells. The cell on the left appears to have had a fire in it at some stage, but both are examples of how Alcatraz had, for a long time, been left to rot and fall apart. These cells are on the first mezzanine, so like everywhere else they are off-limits – all damage done has been before the prison opened to the public.
Walking back to the other end of A-Block, you get a better view of the original state of the bars and how this end of the cell block really has remained untouched. Some parts of the mezzanine above reveal concrete cancer, so that coupled with harmful products of yesteryear (think lead) might make this a task too large to repair.
This marks the end of the first part of my Alcatraz Photo Essay, of which I’d guess there will be three parts. Next will be the rest of inside, then the third the exterior. These take a surprising amount of time for me to do, but I’ll be hard at getting the other parts to you as soon as I can. I’ll open the photo gallery as soon as all three parts are done; it’ll contain more photos than the ones in the essay. I hope you enjoy it.
